THE WAY WE WERE: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Columbia Pictures, 1973) Sony Home Entertainment

The time-honored query of ‘can opposites attract?’ is at the forefront of Sydney Pollack’s The Way We Were (1973), one of the most poignant cinema romances ever put on film. It isn’t only the iconic Oscar-winning/chart-topping Marvin Hamlisch song, only the galvanized performances given by two of Hollywood’s biggest superstars (Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand), only Harry Stradling Jr.’s lush and evocative cinematography, only Arthur Laurents’ intricately woven screenplay that takes its pro-active young Communist/Jew meets blasé/impossibly handsome Wasp love affair and renders it as tragically incompatible, grafted onto a more timely tale of America at a crossroads. No, The Way We Were continues to resonate with audiences because it reminds us of a time when to be an American meant everything – ostensibly, to be the envy of the whole world. That time has passed. And, in the intervening decades of peering through the other side of our current looking glass, we can now reflect more astutely than ever on how much has been lost in that uniquely American experience of yore, with Ronald Reagan’s promise of a shiny city on the hill, since eroded into a decaying storefront of convoluted ideals, or, more directly, an apple whose core has already been eroded by the worm.

Sydney Pollack’s vision for the picture was somewhat daring, if not experimental. And yet, it also harked back to studio-sanctioned status quo, since having decamped the backlots of Tinsel Town, leaving the mantle of quality to a younger generation of picture-makers – then, fearlessly taking chances. In many ways, Pollack brilliantly straddles this chasm between old and new in The Way We Were – looking back on all those ‘misty’ and ‘water-colored memories’ of the way movies used to be made, with a clear-eyed/unvarnished approach to the gloss and gorgeousness of it all. Interesting to consider: Redford didn’t think much of either the movie or his role in it. And Pollack, in later years, viewed it as his lesser work – commercially sound and mainstream, but artistically bereft of his usual command of the cinema language. How wrong can artists be about their work? Since its premiere, The Way We Were has become a microcosmic reflection of America’s once bright-eyed optimism turned asunder. In its’ day, it was a capsule of changing times both in front of and behind the camera. And its tale is a critique of that seismic undoing of the creative talents brought forth in the Hollywood of yore, rife for a political witch hunt in their own backyard. The Way We Were is deceptively superficial, functioning as a tragi-romance and occasionally pulpy melodrama. The spectacle of seeing Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand in their prime, locked in embrace and teetering perilously close to sublime happiness – only to watch it all slip away – has jerked many a tear over the last fifty years. Can it be? Half a century?!? Time, mercifully, has neither erased nor rewritten every line.

The Way We Were remains vital and fresh, while somehow escaping the similar fate of other movies made throughout the 1970’s. Perhaps, because The Way We Were was always a period piece, it has not dated – much - although several of the Dorothy Jeakins/Moss Mabry costumes and hairstyles lean dangerously close to falling out of period and succumbing to that irrefutable bell-bottomed style of the seventies. The picture does, intermittently, belie the decade in which the story takes place, and betrays the decade in which it was conceived. But mostly, Pollack gives us the sheer joy, glamor and spectacle of seeing two great stars at the pinnacle of their respective successes: Streisand, to have graduated from the big and bloated movie musical mélange she helped to bring down the curtain with pictures like Hello Dolly! (1969) and On A Clear Day You Can See Forever (1970), and Redford, at last, shedding his Teflon-coated image as the blonde surfer/stud, to take on the ballast of more serious roles. Important to note: Streisand and Redford are legends of their own time. When a presence is felt this strongly, there is little – if any – hope to become fully immersed in the fictional alter egos they presume to represent for us on the screen. And so, not for a moment herein are we immersed in the likes of Katie Morosky or Hubbell Gardiner (holy mackerel - what a name!). It’s Streisand and Redford – or, if preferred, Redford and Streisand – we embrace on the screen. Streisand and Redford who ignite our desire for these characters with their towering immensity and confrontational charm. Streisand and Redford who, retrospectively, illustrate for us now the way ‘they’ were in 1973, and just how much time has passed since this golden epoch when America’s best days were still ahead of them.

As already noted, Redford did not want to do this film, perhaps recognizing in early drafts, his Anglo-Saxon stud, Hubbell Gardiner was little more than luscious eye candy pitted against Streisand’s flashier ‘woman of principles’. “People are their principles!” Streisand’s Katie reminds Hubbell in a heated moment, a notion Redford understands all too well. And, as our story progresses, we realize underneath Redford’s amiable, always smiling, man about town lies a deeper oppression of the man as he truly is - self-inflicted by an utter lack of faith in his own conscience. It isn’t that nothing is going on inside Hubbell Gardiner’s head.  It’s that there is far too much for him to even articulate – except in moments when pushed by his lover into abject frustration. Maintaining the aura of a rugged bon vivant is a full-time job. Moreover, it is a mask to keep the outside world at bay while Hubbell’s truer feud from within festers. This, alas, is something Katie utterly fails to grasp. But can we blame her? Streisand’s forthright gal wears a chip on her shoulder, so blind-sighted by political activism it often misdirects her passion in self-destructive ways. At their core, Katie and Hubbell are not so much opposites, as similarly misaligned to ever go beyond hot-blooded friction.  It won’t work. Mercifully, this does not stop either from trying.

Redford’s indefatigable ‘movie star’ quality has always been his unattainability. He is the bronzed Apollo, just a little beyond the reach of any mere mortal costar, certainly, one as starry-eyed as Streisand’s Katie. Conversely, Streisand - as Katie - makes the attempt to moon over her lover only once, pitifully pleading for Hubbell to comfort her in heartbreak. For Streisand, it is a moment of uncharacteristic pure surrender and she delivers on it beautifully. The iron petticoat slips, yet the heart-palpitating beneath it never equates to mush. And Redford offers us a distinct variation on his trademarked manliness. His Hubbell is more intuitive than any of his vacuous peers give him credit, and far more troubled than any cock-of-the-walk ought to be.  If, as Katie believes, everything comes too easily to Hubbell Gardiner, it is a luxury he bitterly resents in private. Even by Katie’s impossible standards, Hubbell Gardiner embodies the masculine mystique, admired, arguably, without even trying to impress. Most certainly, he is fawned over by all those kitten-faced beauties who desire his company, and, jealously venerated by his male cohort, lacking in his outward competitiveness or physical prowess. Yet, beneath this veneer the paragon cringes. The brief flickers of insecurity that Redford shares, endear Hubbell to us even more. He’s not just a pretty face. He’s a real man. He’s also one of us.

Hubbell is an enigma to Katie at first. She is uncompromising and steadfast in her beliefs. This puts Hubbell off – again, at first.  Why? Because Katie Morosky knows her own mind – a commodity Hubbell has never completely understood on his terms. And she isn’t even pretty. Part of Streisand’s self-exploration has been the critique of the myth set against the reality of ‘what is pretty?’ It’s the modus operandi of practically every movie she has appeared in, beginning with her debut in William Wyler’s Funny Girl (1968).  A decade later, Streisand is still asking the question, ‘What is beautiful? Am I?’  In The Way We Were we get a Streisand who, superficially does not give a damn whether or not her nose or hair measure up. Ah, but then, there is the flashback, where we catch a glimpse of a college-age Katie – her naturally curly locks, soon to be straightened to conform, or rather, compete with the girls on the cover of a magazine. In the end, Katie settles. She will never be ‘conventionally cute.’  Is this okay? Arguably, as Katie and Hubbell reunite briefly, for one last time in front of The Plaza Hotel – he, with his new, demure wife looking on in silence as Katie gently brushes a shock of his hair aside, adding, “Your girl is lovely, Hubbell” even Katie remains unsure of whether conforming for her ex was ever the right thing to do.

The impetus for The Way We Were is a little convoluted to follow. Screenwriter, Arthur Laurents remembers being approached by producer, Ray Stark with the unusual concept: Streisand as a school teacher who uses music to reach out to her mentally challenged pupils. Many years before, while Laurents was still a student in college, he became fascinated by a young politically proactive student who organized radical political rallies and peace strikes in protest of Franco’s dictatorship in Spain. This began the real genesis for Laurents’ rewrite. In fact, The Way We Were is not at all the way it began, the rough cut far more politically skewed, with Katie reflecting on her youth through the eyes of another young activist at Berkeley. Her marriage to Hubbell breaks apart after the McCarthy trials brand her a communist sympathizer. To save her husband’s face and career, Katie sacrifices – pleading for a divorce. Hubbell agrees, despite the fact she is carrying his child.

Arthur Laurents first draft immediately impressed Stark who green lit the project without reservations.  Laurents also suggested Sydney Pollack to direct, a decision embraced by Streisand – who had worked with Pollack before – but receiving little encouragement from Stark who reluctantly backed Laurents on the grounds Pollack could get Redford to sign. Redford, however, was dragging his heals. Until the eleventh hour, Stark repeatedly threatened to recast the movie with Ryan O’Neal. Ultimately, Pollock wooed his reluctant star – and very good friend – by wearing him down with promises to beef up his part. At this point, Arthur Laurents bowed out - his prose distilled by the intervention of eleven writers, including black-listed Dalton Trumbo, Alvin Sargent, Paddy Chayefsky, and Herb Gardner. Regrettably, the result was a script so badly mangled and chocked full of half-realized ideas that neither Streisand nor Redford agreed to partake of it. Laurents was recalled into service, agreeing to do a complete rewrite only after he received an exorbitant salary as his compensation.

The movie’s narrative timeline is also rather complex. At the outset, we find our heroine, Katie Morosky as a dramatist toiling on a popular radio program during WWII. Katie’s anti-war propagandizing is at odds with the show’s entertainment value. To take the edge off, Katie’s boss, Bill Verso (Herb Edelmen) suggests a night at the Cocoanut Grove where Katie accidentally encounters Hubbell Gardiner in full naval uniform, seated on a bar stool but quite obviously two sheets to the wind. From this rather lengthy prologue, we regress in flashback to the real start of The Way We Were. Cue titles, Streisand’s Oscar-nominated/Marvin Hamlisch song wafting through the air, and, open with a peace rally organized by the Young Communist League. Its chairwoman, vocal Marxist-Jew, Katie Morosky tries to broker favor with her predominantly Anglo-Saxon student body. The cheap seats initially chide and goad her. But Katie rises to the occasion, eventually to rouse the crowd with her anti-war speech. Regrettably, this shining moment is defused by pranksters who hold up a sign behind her that reads ‘any peace but Katie’s piece.’  Still, resident jock and heartthrob, Hubbell Gardiner is bowled over by Katie’s passion for a cause in which she believes.

From this inauspicious beginning, the two diametrically opposed classmates romantically spar. Katie is not particularly interested in Hubbell, Hubbell’s opinions, or, in fact, his opinions about her – that is, until he confides his genuine admiration. Hubbell’s congeniality – but moreover, his hidden talents as a formidable writer – win Katie over. And why not, when such intelligence comes so neatly wrapped in an attractive blonde/buff package? The attraction for Hubbell is more indirectly satisfying, based primarily on Katie’s baffling conviction and her insatiable and almost hypnotic ability to persuade others to take up social causes. Alas, before long, friction mounts, primarily as Hubbell’s friends, J.J. (Bradford Dillman) and, more importantly, potential rival love interest, Carol Ann (Lois Chiles) pit their smug superiority, perceived as empty-headed by Katie. After some deeply felt passions ignite, things reach a fevered pitch and Hubbell and Katie part in a flurry of mutual frustration. All is not lost, however. The flashback at an end, Hubbell awakens on his bar stool. Still quite inebriated, he allows Katie to take him home to her apartment. Crawling into bed with a drunk fulfills only part of Katie’s fantasy. The other half must succeed or wither on the vine during the stark hours of the next day and afternoon. Hubbell’s frequent absences due to being stationed as a naval officer in the South Pacific, allow for badly needed separations whenever he and Katie quarrel. Still, it is always so good to come home. Eventually, Hubbell and Katie marry and decide to move to Hollywood where Hubbell can pursue his dreams – along with J.J. – of becoming a screenwriter.

From the outset, Tinsel Town is an ill fit for the socially-conscious Katie. It does not help that J.J. and Carol Ann are now a couple, the foursome constantly surrounded by sycophantic superficiality. Katie allies herself with acting coach, Rhea Edwards (Allyn Ann McLerie) and eventually finds something redeeming in Hubbell’s studio boss, producer, George Bissinger (Patrick O’Neal). However, when the FBI bugs George’s home in the hopes of weeding out communists and communist sympathizers, the old Katie’s ire is stirred. An interesting aside: the aforementioned ‘bugging’ incident has its basis in real life, at a fashionable Hollywood house party attended by Arthur Laurents where famed comedian, Charlie Chaplin attempted to provide the entertainment by doing a silent bit as both bullfighter and the bull. When Chaplin accidentally lost his balance, he struck and dislodged a picture from the wall whereupon it was discovered a listening device had been planted. Back to the movie: the resultant communist witch hunt polarizes Katie and Hubbell’s fledgling romantic détente. Hubbell’s insistence that no amount of solidarity will help the cause of standing against a government eager to spy on its private citizens is in direct odds with Katie who perceives Hubbell’s ‘do nothing’ attitude as a weak-kneed failure to stand up for his principles too. 

As the specter of the blacklist encroaches on all their lives, Katie's political activism increasingly jeopardizes Hubbell's reputation in the industry. Her persistent abrasiveness leads Hubbell to having an affair with Carol Ann despite Katie already being pregnant with his child. The couple divorce and time passes. Years later, they reunite – this time, quite unexpectedly. Having returned to Manhattan, Katie spies Hubbell in front of the Plaza Hotel with his new wife. Awkwardly, they embrace, recognizing the inevitable has taken place. Hubbell has reverted to type, playing it safe. Katie is more politically motivated than ever – peddling leaflets against the bomb. Yet, it is also quite obvious, neither has completely severed the bond that continues to throb between them. Hubbell politely refuses Katie’s invitation to tea. Instead, they embrace for the last time, perhaps as friends, with Katie brushing a wayward lock of Hubbell’s hair. Whether by choice or mere resignation, Katie and Hubbell understand what might have been between them before is truly at an end now. The way they were can never be again. 

In this penultimate, bittersweet farewell, The Way We Were is truly heartbreaking. The shared loss over a passage of time is not enough to bring all those ‘misty, water-colored’ memories back into the forefront. Katie’s realization, that Hubbell Gardiner was never more alive or vibrant than when he was with her, and his abject surrender of that life and the unborn daughter they shared, never seen in the movie, but named Rachel, tugs at the violin strings.  And yet, there is nothing even remotely maudlin about this goodbye. Streisand and Redford deliver a much more cruelly unvarnished truth about their characters’ imperfect past together. That love alone was never enough to sustain the magic of that myth. There is a sense of mourning here. We feel the loss for these characters, wanting to see them happy together, and perhaps even wishing for some distant epoch, after the credits have rolled, in which they come together again – wiser and more resolved to make things work out between them. The movie’s conclusion is far more disturbingly uncertain about all those tomorrows yet to come in each of their separate lives. Particularly, Streisand’s Katie: she appears to have reverted all the way back to her protoplasmic archetype of a woman devoted to causes rather than people. It’s college Katie all over again, only now, with a lot more water on that proverbial bridge and far more milage on the chassis of life’s regrets.  If anything, at the end of our story, Hubbell Gardiner is the one who has grown up and moved on, even as he has grown down in his aspirations to be ‘the more’ once reflected in Katie’s eyes.

While Sydney Pollack continued to refer to The Way We Were as one of his lesser works, time has proven the opposite true. Viewed today, it is the ‘what if?’ tragedy of this near-perfect love destroyed by immovable platitudes that continues to haunt us from the peripheries of the screen. Hubbell and Katie…and never this twain shall meet. For all concerned, the picture was a huge success to buoy their reputations.  Curiously, outside of a ‘limited edition’ Blu-ray via the defunct Twilight Time label, The Way We Were has never received a proper hi-def release from its alma mater – Sony Pictures…until now. In 2013, Pollack’s classic was scanned in at 4K resolution from an original camera negative at Cineric, with additional restoration efforts plied at MTI Film in Hollywood. The audio was then sweetened by Chace and given a 5.1 up-mix. In preparing this half-a-century celebration in native 4K Sony has elected to provide us with the original 118-min. theatrical cut, and, an all-new 123-min. extended version – expressly reassembled for this release.

In those 5 mins., personally overseen by Streisand for this restoration, not much goes on to either shock or contribute anything new to our story. Rather, the added footage crystalizes the conflict between the romance and politically-motivated ambitions of its protagonists. Sony is referring to this as a ‘director’s cut’ – odd, since Pollack approved his ‘final cut’ back in 1973 and has, alas, been dead since 2008. Streisand is also a director. That much is true. But The Way We Were was not directed by her…until now. There are just a few lines of dialogue scattered throughout to offer us a more well-rounded representation of Hubbell and Katie as a couple at odds with their lives and loves. Does any of this actually improve the story or dramatically alter our appreciation of it? No. On the flipside, it does not dissuade us from our misty, water-colored memories of yore, for the way things were. And Sony has taken the high road here, offering both cuts in 4K.  So, we can choose which version to favor for ourselves.

Plying the existing 4K scan with a new Dolby Vision/HDR presentation has certainly refined both color balancing and overall image clarity and sharpness. This looks pretty spectacular. Contrast is uniformly excellent. Fine details pop. The theatrical cut gets both 5.1 and original 2.0 mono mixes. The director’s cut – only comes in 5.1 DTS. Also, Pollack’s commentary, recorded more than a decade ago, is only featured on the theatrical cut. Given this is a 50^th anniversary, extras are pretty scant and disappointing. Sony ports over the same ‘Looking Back’ hour-long documentary on the making of the movie, with participation from cast and crew, plus a theatrical trailer. That’s all, folks! The extras are on both the 4K and standard Blu.  The documentary is in pretty rough shape and in 720p. We lose Twilight Time’s isolated score – a pity. Given the extensive extras Sony has recently lavished on some of its other deep catalog reissues in 4K, the anemic offering here is – frankly – disappointing. The Way We Were ought to have been part of a fourth Sony ‘Columbia Classics’ box set, with tons of newly unearthed goodies and new interviews to recommend it. Given Streisand contributed her time and advice on the ‘director’s cut’ it also would have been prudent of Sony to involve her in a commentary track for this ‘new’ edition of the movie. Alas, this did not happen. So, we have a director’s cut without any explanation for its existence. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

2