AMERICAN GRAFFITI - 50th Anniversary 4K UHD Blu-ray (Universal, 1973) Universal Home Video

It seems utter sacrilege now, but some well-intended exec at Universal once proposed, even after the rousing success of American Graffiti (1973) that director, George Lucas consider making considerable alterations and/or cuts to his homage of that time-honored past-time in coming-of-age cruising. Mercifully, cooler heads prevailed. But more and more, American Graffiti appears as a unique time capsule from another bygone era in the picture-making biz; one that used to foster young blood and creativity over slickly marketed commercial appeal and chronic franchise film-making. Produced by Francis Ford Coppola, written by Willard Huyck, Gloria Katz and Lucas, and starring Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard, Paul Le Mat, Harrison Ford, Charles Martin Smith, Cindy Williams, Candy Clark, Mackenzie Phillips, Bo Hopkins, and Wolfman Jack, American Graffiti now rings with the tinny echo of mid-seventies’ cynicism – arguably, the absolute worst decade for the American motion picture industry, though hardly the worst for American-made motion pictures. The industry, then buffeted by seismic shifts in audience tastes, a decided downturn in potential box office, and, the last gasps of establishment ‘types’, either considered dinosaurs in their own time, retired, or unceremoniously ousted after pressing their luck under new regimes that, in no way, resembled the safety and satisfaction once afforded them within the iron-clad studio systems of yore.

By 1973, corporations ran studios – not as thriving production houses, but almost into the ground, enamored more by the glamour of owning heritage real estate in Tinsel Town, or even just ‘trademark’ recognition, instead of committing to big-screen entertainment. By decade’s end, the sell-offs had begun – backlots and back catalogs parceled off to the highest bidder. What could not be liquidated via an auction house for quick cash was chucked, either in some un-air-conditioned vault to decompose beyond recognition or worse, weighted down and sunk at the bottom of the harbor. In effect, the Hollywood tear down replaced paradise to put up a parking lot…or condo development. In the deluge, Hollywood lost its two most prominent backlots. MGM became neighborhood cheap housing. 2oth Century-Fox was rechristened Century City commercial development. The acquisition of Warner Bros. by Kinney – a mortuary company – seemed to tell the tale in totem for the future of making movies, then eulogized in the industry’s bible - The Hollywood Reporter – as a soon to be extinct pastime, as quaint as the ancient horse and buggy.

Ah, but the bean counters and corporate leviathans did not count on a Robert Evans’, or Martin Scorsese, or Ron Howard, or, in the case of American Graffiti – a 29-yr.-old visionary from Modesto who, in a few short years, along with contemporary, Steven Spielberg, would reinvigorate the film industry with new aspirations to produce at least one solid blockbuster per annum. American Graffiti is so distinctly Lucas’ valentine to the Modesto of his youth, the setting – 1962’s kinder/gentler/simpler epoch when teens were just in love and eager to embrace one another as they had the burgeoning beat of rock n’ roll a decade earlier. American Graffiti is not so much a narratively-structured fable, as a series of well-timed/evocatively subtle snapshots into another, more naïve wrinkle that, in 1973, must have seemed like a mirage, fast vanishing in the rearview. At Coppola’s behest, Lucas began toiling on American Graffiti while working on THX 1138 – his college film project, eventually to blossom into his first feature-length foray into sci-fi. “Cruising was gone,” Lucas later acknowledged, “…but I felt compelled to document the whole experience and what my generation used as a way of meeting girls."

The aegis for American Graffiti was anything but smooth. After Warner Bros. abandoned Lucas’ early pitch for Apocalypse Now, he turned to finishing American Graffiti, originally titled ‘Another Quiet Night in Modesto.’ Hiring Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz to polish his semiautobiographical prose, Lucas and colleague, Gary Kurtz then began pitching their treatment to various studios to secure financial backing. Alas, nothing clicked as potential financiers became concerned about Lucas’ decision to populate his picture with vintage music, thus incurring considerable licensing expenses. Lucas’ verve, however, remained unbowed. This impressed United Artists’ president, David Picker, who wrote Lucas a $10,000 check to pursue his passion project. As Huyck and Katz were beginning to develop their own property, Lucas hired fellow USC alumni, Richard Walter in their stead. But Walter’s draft deviated so far from Lucas’ vision, Walter was promptly fired. Having spent all of UA’s development money, Lucas then took it upon himself to rewrite the script, shaping each scene around a particular pop tune floating around in his head. In all, 75 rock n’ roll classics would aligned with the property, a number that caused UA to officially bow out from a project it deemed as too experimental.

Between 1971 and 1972, Lucas tapped every major studio to partake, but to no avail. At this juncture, Huyck and Katz suggested to Lucas his finale for the piece – a sobering commentary on where all these characters ended up in adulthood - was too depressing. Undaunted, Lucas and Kurtz took their script to American International Pictures. But this too proved a dead end. Mercifully, Universal agreed to Lucas’ terms, on a $600,000 budget, later to be complimented by a $175,000 increase once Francis Ford Coppola’s name was attached to the project; Coppola, still able to bask in the afterglow and leverage his success from The Godfather (1972). As Universal had no expectations for the picture, they pretty much left Lucas and Coppola to their own devices, though some could not make head or tails of the title, American Graffiti.

Lucas’ film embarks upon its one-night odyssey on the last evening of summer vacation in 1962. We meet high school grads, Curt Henderson (Richard Dreyfuss) and Steve Bolander (Ron Howard) and two friends, cocky drag-racer, John Milner (Paul Le Mat) and nerd, Terry Fields (Charles Martin Smith) at Mel's Drive-In. Steve and Curt are supposed to leave for college in the morning. But Curt is having second thoughts. Curt's sister, Laurie (Cindy Williams) awkwardly senses her romance with Steve is fast coming to an end. Bittersweetly, this triumvirate attends their high-school sock hop.  However, on route, Curt becomes smitten with a gorgeous blonde (Suzanne Summers) who leans from the back of a Ford Thunderbird, mouthing the words, ‘I love you’ before the car pulls away and into the night. Devastated, Curt joins up with a group of greasers, ‘The Pharaohs’ whose leader informs him the girl he desires is a prostitute. Meanwhile, Steve entrusts Terry with the care of his automobile while he is away at school. Instead, Terry wastes no time picking up, Debbie (Candy Clark) – a fairly fast and loose gal. However, after Terry and Debbie park in a remote area to get a little action, thieves make off with the car. When Terry finally hunts them down, they beat him up until John Milner intervenes. Confiding in Debbie he drives a scooter not a car, Debbie playfully suggests to Terry, “It’s practically a motorcycle” and agrees to meet up with him again.

Feeling left out, John unintentionally picks up Carol (Mackenzie Phillips), a 12-year-old who manipulates him into driving her around all night.  Meanwhile, racer, Bob Falfa (Harrison Ford) challenges John to defend his drag-racing title. He also picks up a distraught Laurie after an argument with Steve. In the ensuing race, Bob blows a tire and overturns, his car bursting into flames. Both Bob and Laurie narrowly escape death. A tear-stained Laurie implores Steve not to go off to college. Begrudgingly, he agrees. Now, Curt drives to the local radio station, imploring its jockey to read a heartfelt message on air for the blonde in the White Thunderbird to telephone him at Mel’s Drive-In. She does, and although never to reveal her name, the blonde promises to meet Curt at the airfield at dawn. Alas, as he boards his plane, there is no sign of the girl. However, upon takeoff Curt suddenly sees the White Thunderbird driving on the road below and wistfully realizes the girl of his fantasies remained true to her word. An epilogue informs us, John was killed by a drunk driver two years later and Terry went MIA while on a tour of duty in South Viet Nam. We discover Steve became an insurance salesman and Curt moved to Canada where he became a successful writer.

At its crux, American Graffiti is a movie about the inevitable passage of time and the boyhood/teenage alliances that seem so vital in youth, only to fade into fond memories with the advent of growing into adulthood. Lucas uses Curt, John and Terry as surrogates for the various awkward stages of his own transitioning from teenager into adulthood. Even so, Lucas went through a hundred young hopefuls to find his ‘dream’ cast – the role of Steve Bolander paving the way for Ron Howard to transition from Opie on The Andy Griffith Show (1960-68) to Richie Cunningham in Happy Days (1974-84). Although set in Modesto, American Graffiti would actually begin shooting in San Rafael before pulling up stakes for Petaluma, California and a few nights’ shoot at Mel’s Drive-In, which is in San Francisco. Alas, shooting the picture was nothing less than an ordeal for Lucas, who became frustrated with the time it took to do camera set-ups. He was also none-too-impressed with the hijinks and setbacks taking place after hours; a crew member busted for possession of marijuana, Harrison Ford’s chronic drinking binges, resulting in Richard Dreyfuss getting tossed into the hotel pool, sustaining a gash to his forehead, and, finally, Paul Le Mat, having an allergic reaction to walnuts, sending him to the hospital. There was also the ‘small’ matter of someone setting Lucas’ hotel room afire one evening. Kids! The first of Lucas' Lucasfilm’s branded productions, American Graffiti premiered at a film festival in Switzerland before its U.S. theatrical release on August 11, 1973. Produced for Universal on a miniscule budget of $777,000, American Graffiti would go on to become one of the studios brightest money-makers of the season, garnering acclaim from the critics and an Oscar nod for Best Picture.

Universal Home Video’s track record in any home video format has been spotty at best. The studio with so much richly rewarding classic picture-making to fall back on just seems to take a very laissez faire attitude when it comes to remastering their back catalog (as well as the Paramount titles under their distribution/ownership banner). A picture like American Graffiti would seem to warrant all the bells and whistles be properly addressed in quality control for a peerless viewing experience. And while the standard Blu-ray from 2015 did do a fitting job of things, the announcement of a new 4K remaster ought to have been cause for total rejoicing. Alas, no. Curiously so. Shot in Techniscope, there is no good reason for American Graffiti to look anything less than stellar in ultra-hi-def. And knowing how meticulous George Lucas has been in curating his movies from days of yore, one would hope to find this new Uni disc stamped with ‘director approval’. If so, then Lucas must have developed an aversion to film grain. Because it’s been digitally scrubbed to the nth degree in 4K, rendering what was once a razor-sharp image into a sort of ‘dreamily’ soft reconstitution.

With this release, we’ve gone back to the sort of ‘waxy’ imagery that used to plague early Fox Blu-rays. It isn’t just grain that is gone. It’s fine detail too. Faces look as though they have been fashioned from wax – not flesh. A real mystery persists, because the main titles – now composed from original backgrounds and digitally recreated titles – perfectly capture all of the subtler nuances in Ron Eveslage and Jan D'Alquen cinematography; textures utterly lacking throughout the rest of this UHD presentation. What a head-scratcher…and a colossal disappointment. Uni offers up the same 5.1 and 2.0 DTS mixes. The 5.1 is preferred as the 2.0 doesn’t sound authentic to the theatrical, but a mono-fication of that stereo remix. Uni has included the original Blu-ray here, as it houses the extensive ‘making of’, screen tests, and audio commentary from Lucas, along with an original trailer. Bottom line: American Graffiti ought to have advanced to reference quality in 4K. Instead, it sinks well below the competency of a cable network HD presentation. If Uni’s goal is to make vintage classics look as though they were rendered in the digital realm – mission accomplished. But this isn’t what American Graffiti should look like – ever – regardless of the home video medium being utilized, or perhaps, bastardized is a better word for it. Not recommended!

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

0

EXTRAS

3