TERMS OF ENDEARMENT: 4K UHD Paramount Presents...Blu-ray (Paramount, 1983) Paramount Home Video

Anyone born will be able to relate to Terms of Endearment (1983), director, James L. Brooks’ poignant valentine to the mother of all mothers - acerbic, Aurora Greenway. From the moment Shirley MacLaine’s caustic matriarch – part invigorating confidant/part meddlesome yenta – unapologetically stirs her infant daughter as she peacefully sleeps in her crib, just to hear her cry (so she knows she hasn’t died of infant crib syndrome), coming to terms with Terms of Endearment strikes a resonant chord. This ain’t I Remember Mama! Nevertheless, Brooks’ message is pointedly clear. Moms are great. But they can also be a royal pain in parts south of the equator. As offspring, we are grateful they care. We just wish they could do a little less of it when we want them to butt out of our lives. Terms of Endearment is the sort of character-driven pic Hollywood on masse used to take dead aim to produce per annum, if for no other reason, then to compete for the coveted Best Picture Academy Award. Alas, in more recent times, it has been viewed as the albatross that no one roiling in Tinsel Town seems even remotely to recall how to handcraft with the same microscopically focused attention to detail and affection Aurora Greenway lavishes upon costar, Debra Winger’s Emma.

Based on Larry McMurtry’s novel, Terms of Endearment is a cornucopia of laughter and heartbreak celebrating the undeniable bond between mother and daughter; the generation gap made all the more poignant by the advent of a medical emergency looming large on the horizon. And MacLaine and Winger get to the emotional core of their characters from the outset, their oft’ strained ‘friendship’ unpretentiously played out, their laughter through tears even more heartsore, yet joyous.  Terms of Endearment came at the tail end of a decade-long infatuation in American-made movies to tell introspective stories about living in quiet desperation in middle-class America (Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore – 1974, Kramer vs. Kramer – 1979, and, Ordinary People – 1980, among them). It isn’t all rose bushes and picket fences, unless of course one counts the thorns and the splinters. But if anything, the runaway success of all three – the latter two, winning Best Picture in their respective years – ensured the 1980’s would continue to look ahead to even more sincerely anchored familial melodramas (Yentl – 1983, Places in the Heart – 1984, Steel Magnolias – 1989).

And Terms of Endearment is infinitely blessed to have Shirley MacLaine as its sharp-tongued matriarch, a gal with no compunction to make her presence and intentions known. This forthright no-nonsense attitude clashes with her daughter, Emma’s more laissez faire outlook on life. Emma sees everything through rose-colored glasses, or at least the halcyon afterglow of a good toke. Aurora, a creature from another epoch, is best defined by a more ambiguous cynicism, martyred as the widow raising a child on her own while pursued by several middle-aged bachelors. Emma just wants to be let alone.  The one thing Aurora will never do - even if her life depended on it. And it just might. Apart from Brooks’ central narrative, charting the panged separation of a mother expected – but unable – to let entirely go, even after her only child marries the only man mom deems totally unworthy of her little princess, Terms of Endearment remains a nourishing tale about the indestructible bloodlines that bind us from cradle to grave. The movie is nothing without its mother/daughter sparring. On occasion, MacLaine and Winger come dangerously close to the edge of sentimentality, only to pull back the aching heartstrings, making every moment as psychologically enriching and emotionally real as the movies have ever dared. It would be hard to appreciate Terms of Endearment as anything better than a chick flick - except that Brooks’ screenplay never takes the easy route, relying on sheer estrogen or the tug-o-war chemistry of its stars to propel the story ahead.

And so, there is a real juicy part for then cinema bad boy, Jack Nicholson, doing a variation on his ‘slick bastard’ public persona, herein reconstituted as has-been astronaut, Garrett Breedlove, a man having traded his fame and mystique to gain access into the boudoirs of some very sexy ladies. It was all good a decade or so earlier…maybe. But now the paunchy and balding flyboy just seems like a dirty old man, his slovenly drunkenness more crude than charming, his inability to face the inevitability of growing old robbing Garrett of a more meaningful life. This should be a scene-stealing tour de force for Nicholson. But Jack plays Garrett right down the middle as a guy well past his prime, allowing the shallowness of his character’s character to shine through, ensuring our empathy for this pathetic shell of a one-time swinger who now needs a quart of gin just to work up enough gumption to make a complete ass of himself. Nicholson’s performance ingratiates us to a real prick, and, it works brilliantly: a stand-out without aspiring to be one.

Aurora is both fascinated yet repulsed by her ‘next door’ neighbor. How could there ever be anything between them except air? The unexpected ‘relationship’ that blossoms and steadily grows inward from something outwardly superficial sustains the middle act of Terms of Endearment, carrying the audience over the threshold of dividing our time between Aurora and Garrett getting on, and Emma and her husband, Flap’s (Jeff Daniels) fast decaying marriage. Having moved away to Des Moines for Flap’s work - presently suffering through homesick heartaches and Flap’s burgeoning infidelities - Emma’s realization that mom was right all along brings mother and daughter nearer still, despite this separation of miles. Flap Horton wasn’t Mr. Right after all - just Mr. Right Now. This is a bitter pill for Emma to swallow. In fact, she does her damnedest to hold the family together, and not just for the sake of their children - Melanie (Megan Morris), Tommy (played at intervals by Shane Serwin and Troy Bishop) and Teddy (Huckleberry Fox), who increasingly come to resent her for trying.

The middle act of Terms of Endearment is a series of vignettes, some more replete with something meaningful to say than others. One recalls, as example, the benevolent ‘cute meet’ between Emma and Sam Burns (John Lithgow), the latter offering to pay the difference on Emma’s grocery tab after she comes up short at the checkout. Dealing with three hungry children, the embarrassment of being poor, and, a cashier (Judith A. Dickerson) intent on making Emma feel even more like a social outcast than she already is, Lithgow’s unlikely knight in shining armor is exactly what Emma needs just then; a friendly gesture capped off by Sam’s classic admonishment of the cashier. “You’re a very rude young woman,” he tells her. “I don’t think I was being rude,” the woman begrudgingly replies. “Then you must be from New York!” he reiterates in deadpan disgust, eliciting a hearty laugh from the audience. Because Terms of Endearment never stoops to convention for the proverbial ‘feel good’, we end up coming away from the movie ‘feeling good’ as it were, but for the unlikeliest of reasons, and, at the most unexpected moments.

After Emma is diagnosed with terminal cancer one might expect the immaculately put together Aurora Greenway to shift into mother/tiger overdrive. Instead, Brooks’ screenplay and Shirley MacLaine’s performance counterbalance Aurora’s outward ‘take charge’ attitude with a spiraling inner fragility, almost rhythmically coming to a crescendo in the scene where Aurora bursts from her daughter’s hospital room, frantically racing around the nurse’s station and demanding someone – anyone – give Emma an injection of morphine to momentarily arrest her severe pains. MacLaine whips herself into a fevered frenzy. spouting her lines with a manic intensity and leaping about as though she had been given the proverbial ‘hot foot’, until, in dire frustration, she finally screams with abject determination, “Give her the shot!” The terrorized nurse’s compliance with this request is met by a split-second transformation into the old Aurora, MacLaine instantly composed as she very politely but directly adds, “Thank you.”

In any screening of Terms of Endearment I have ever attended, this scene always gets acknowledged for its truthfulness. It is, after all, a curious, yet brilliantly played moment with MacLaine going after the reality of a mother’s hopelessness with emboldened impatience, miraculously reshaped into magnanimity in the blink of an eye. Blink and you will miss it. But clear-eyed – if you can be, realizing, as Aurora must, that the time between her and the very best friend she has ever known – her own child - is prematurely drawing to a close, allows the audiences to be teleported alongside MacLaine and Winger, from empathy into that very rarified essence of miraculous joy through occasional angry tears that all parents suffer through with their children. And MacLaine, more than Winger, makes us feel this outrage from losing a child on an intuitive level, unafraid to appear on camera, haggard, careworn and utterly defeated as she greets Garrett on the steps of the motel, she has moved into to be nearer her dying child. Acting this good comes once in an actor’s lifetime. Alas, its ilk and intensity has all but vanished from our present-day movie-going experiences.

We begin, then, with Aurora and Emma. Each is searching for the love of their respective lives, as yet, unthinking it just might be the one they share together. James L. Brooks fast tracks through Emma’s childhood. It isn’t really what interests him. The love-hate mother/daughter relationship that evolves as Emma enters her twenties is far more fascinating and complex: becoming friends with affluent, Patsy Clark (Lisa Hart Caroll), whom Aurora detests – not so much because Patsy is a bad influence, but rather because she divides Emma’s time spent away from her – and a burgeoning romance with Flap Horton, ultimately leading to marriage (definitely the kiss of death for Aurora’s monopolization of Emma’s time and love). This leaves the middle-aged widow despondent. Since the death of Emma’s father, Aurora has filled her days with managing Emma’s life, while entertaining romantic offers from a gaggle of superficially attractive suitors.

Emma elects to marry Flap instead of going off to college in New York like Patsy. In short order, gives birth to two children - Tommy (Troy Bishop) and Teddy (Huckleberry Fox). A third, Melanie (Megan Morris) will follow after Flap announces he is moving his family to Des Moines, thereby separating Aurora from Emma for the foreseeable future. Mutual contempt between Aurora and Flap is stirred. In point of fact, Aurora sees right through him. He isn’t the guy for Emma. He’s just the one occupying a small corner of her heart. Once in Des Moines, Flap begins having numerous affairs with women from the college. Mysterious phone calls to the house clue Emma in to his infidelities. Feeling alone and friendless, Emma telephones home to ask mom for some money. Unable to deduce from the phone call, Emma is already seven months pregnant with Melanie, Aurora encourages her daughter to consider an abortion. Distraught, Emma politely terminates the call before bursting into tears. The strain of her situation is temporarily quelled by an unlikely kindness that blossoms into an affair with married middle-aged banker, Sam Burns.

In the meantime, Aurora finds herself developing a curious attraction toward retired astronaut, Garrett Breedlove: newly moved in next door, but whose penchant for booze and broads Aurora cannot abide. Garrett astutely assesses Aurora is sexually frigid, uptight and commitment shy. He makes several attempts to break her of this frigidity, copping a feel and taking her for a perilous ride along the windswept beaches in his speeding convertible.  Garrett could, in fact, go for Aurora. If only Emma had not come home with her three kids just then, having discovered Flap in the arms of Janice (Kate Charleson), a perky grad student. This is not exactly the ‘happy family’ Garrett – a confirmed ‘old’ bachelor – had in mind.  He gets cold feet and breaks up with Aurora, leaving her feeling betrayed and humiliated. Emma terminates her relationship with Sam after Flap informs the family of his new teaching position in Kearney, Nebraska. It sounds like a fresh start – except Emma soon discovers Janice has enrolled at the university too and Flap has actually followed her there to continue their affair. Things go from bad to worse when, while taking Melanie to the doctor for her flu shot, the attending physician takes notice of two large lumps under Emma’s armpit. Biopsies confirm Emma has cancer. To cheer her up, Patsy invites Emma for a Manhattan getaway. Since moving to New York, Patsy has become quite the debutante - a successful career woman with a chichi wardrobe and trust fund friends who cannot understand why any woman – given half the option - would want to be saddled into motherhood. Emma feels decidedly out of place among this ‘go-getter’ sect. So, to break the ice, Patsy tells everyone Emma has cancer, leading to a moment of faux compassion – misguided and misplaced - that Emma finds quite hilarious.

Returning home to start her treatments, Emma is devastated when doctors inform her nothing has changed. In fact, her cancer is advancing at an alarming rate. Emma will not survive it. As it is now quite clear, life-altering decisions have to be made, Emma confides in Aurora the perilous state of her condition and elects, with Flap’s reluctant consent, that after she is gone Aurora will become the guardian of their three children. While Flap divides his time between his career and the hospital, Aurora never leaves her daughter’s side. Garrett unexpectedly flies to Nebraska to comfort Aurora who, for the very first time, shows distinct signs her usual iron-cast resolve has eroded. In a moment of weakness, Aurora confides in Garrett, she loves him. He replies with his stock answer, “I love you too, kid.”  As Emma’s condition worsens Tommy becomes resentful, even blaming his ailing mother for their circumstances and separation from their father. Later that afternoon, Aurora blasts Tommy for his mis-perceptions, reminding him of the sacrifices Emma has made. In response, Tommy confides his own worst fears about losing a parent. He breaks down and cries on Aurora’s shoulder as Emma quietly dies, knowing, at least, she has done the right thing by placing her children’s future in her mother’s care.  At the post-funeral gathering in Aurora’s backyard, Garrett bonds with Tommy. Patsy and Aurora reach a tenuous understanding. Both women will be actively involved in Emma’s children’s lives. The scene concludes with Aurora quietly sitting next to Melanie - a renewal of the now (grand)mother/daughter bond beginning all over again.

Terms of Endearment ought to be a template for the Hollywood drama. It attains some deeper understanding of the importance of family and solidifies, with exceptional clarity, the tenuousness of life, ultimately translated into life-affirming cinema magic. MacLaine, Winger and Nicholson are at the top of their game – pros, who sincerely believe in and enrich that material beyond the written page. An old Hollywood adage suggests a good script marks the half-way point to achieving success. This is, of course, true. But the other half is undeniably dedicated to that pluperfect melding of star with role, and herein, Terms of Endearment is monumentally blessed. Though she has oft been exquisite, herein, Shirley MacLaine has never been better. Her Aurora Greenway is so authentic and unflinchingly direct, it is easy, at a glance, to amusedly find her a royal pain in the ass. Yet, she is so right about everything, it is either very clairvoyant, or just plain annoying. A little of each, as far as Winger’s Emma is concerned. Nevertheless, there is a fascinating counter-lever here. As Emma’s attitude grows more serious with her situation, MacLaine’s matriarch becomes more whimsical. Life is a gift. So is a child. Aurora lets down her hair. She also lets her daughter go with the understanding neither has wasted any time in this relationship. It is this rewarding nugget of wisdom audiences have taken away from the movie ever since the houselights came up. No matter how the outside world views us, we are always loved at home. These are the real terms of familial endearment.  

Terms of Endearment has received a ‘director approved’ 4K remaster off an original camera negative and the results should please everyone. Everything we loved about this movie gets crystalized with startling clarity and depth of focus in this gorgeous 4K UHD Paramount Presents… collector’s set. The overall improvements in color density are irrefutable. Flesh tones finally achieve a naturally warm aesthetic, virtually absent from all prior home video incarnations.  The palette here favors some wonderfully saturated blue and earth tones. Grain is the only thing I sincerely question. In some scenes, it is more amplified than others. Never does it appear unnatural, though, at intervals, in can be rather intense. Nevertheless, detail and sharpness are beyond reproach. We get the same 5.1 DTS audio as was available on the previous standard Blu-ray (also included in this set). It sounds solid, with Michael Gore’s memorable theme rising to the occasion. Primarily a dialogue-driven movie, the 5.1 finds subtler ways to distinguish itself, with excellent sonics across all channels, to create a sustained ambiance. The one unforgiveable sin – no extras on the 4K and very limited extras on the Blu-ray.  The standard Blu contains a ‘film-maker’s focus’ and decade’s-old audio commentary. Only the ‘focus’ featurette is new to this release. Aside: I could have done without Paramount’s crap-tac-u-lar pop art cover.  Mercifully, a reproduction of the original poster is also included on the inside gatefold. Bottom line: Terms of Endearment never gets old. This 4K release will surely delight fans. An absolute ‘must have’! Thank you, Paramount.

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1