THE WIZARD OF OZ: 85th Anniversary 4K UHD/Blu-ray combo (MGM, 1939) Warner Home Video
There is much to
be said about a film that reports on the basic human need to rediscover our
hearts desires in our own backyards. What Frank L. Baum’s
turn-of-the-last-century series of children's books did for the imagination,
director Victor Fleming's The Wizard of Oz (1939) has since recreated on
a much broader canvas and for both the young and young in heart. Even by
Hollywood’s colossal standards, the production of Oz was a
mammoth undertaking; compounded by the added expense of shooting almost the
entire movie in the newly improved 3-strip Technicolor process. Arthur Freed’s
assist on this Mervyn LeRoy-produced glossy children’s fantasy/epic would
elevate his stature also to full-fledged producer at MGM – the purveyor of
nearly three decades of the studio’s most memorable musicals.
But Oz
is more than the pluperfect example of MGM’s craftsmanship, and this in a year
of such titanic achievements as Goodbye Mr. Chips, The Women, The Rains
Came, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and, of course, Gone with the Wind.
In such distinguished company, Oz remains perhaps the most
genuine, heartfelt, deliriously joyous – and occasionally frightening – fantasy
movie ever conceived. Others have tried to duplicate its infectious compendium
of songs and artful dexterity in storytelling – mostly, with no direct
comparison. Today, The Wizard of Oz is such an obvious classic, we tend
to forget just how much of a gamble it truly was in 1939. And while Hollywood
had a long-standing tradition of turning time-honored literature into movie
art, on occasion even the likes of literary giants were not enough to make for
this successful artistic and commercial translation.
Warner Brother’s
attempts at Lewis Carroll’s Alice In Wonderland (1933) and Shakespeare’s
A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935) had both been costly flops. And The
Wizard of Oz was a fantasy – not a genre readily embraced with confidence
in Hollywood back then. Oz
also presented MGM’s special effects wizards with a litany of challenges: how
to create a convincing tornado, as example. How to make a wicked witch vanish
in a puff of sulfur, or her winged monkeys fly. The ingenuity exhibited on Oz
broke new ground and set standards for decades to follow. As for casting, MGM
had desperately tried to persuade 2oth Century-Fox’s Darryl F. Zanuck to loan
out Shirley Temple. L.B. Mayer even arranged for the blond moppet to tour his
studio back lot in a filmed press and promotional junket that was designed to
garner public interest in Temple’s participation on the project. Zanuck,
however, was no fool. Temple’s loan out would pale to the profits to be made on
such a lavishly appointed spectacle. But if Oz failed, it could
also considerably impact Temple’s future popularity with audiences. Zanuck was
not willing to wager the future returns of his most bankable star. So, no deal.
Temple was out, and Mayer decided to stay close to home, casting Judy Garland
as his Dorothy Gale instead.
Judy Garland’s
star was on the ascendance ever since she appeared in a little two-reel musical
review: Every Sunday (1936) and, in the three short years that had
passed since she had matured from what Mayer once referred to as ‘his little
monkey’ into one of the brightest and most incandescent adolescent ingénues on
the backlot. That Garland could belt out a tune with gusto was perhaps no great
surprise; her upbringing in Vaudeville practically guaranteeing her ability to
reach the back of any house with those glorious pipes. But that she could also
wring pathos from a ballad, and, instinctively knew how to act, deftly handling
comedy and drama, was something of an unanticipated surprise.
If MGM could
have, they would have put Judy Garland in every movie they were making; her
abilities as great as Eleonora Duse or Sarah Bernhardt. And Garland repeatedly lived up to all the
hype that increasingly surrounded her meteoric rise to stardom: singing the
hell out of a spiritual, pop tune or romantic ballad with, what at least
appeared to be, the greatest of ease and a staggeringly innate gift to
entertain. Garland’s stardom would explode after 1939, not just for her
appearance in Oz, but also for a pair of movies opposite Mickey Rooney (Babes
in Arms, and Love Finds Andy Hardy – the latter, still the most
popular installment in the Andy Hardy film franchise). In retrospect, it is in
Judy Garland that Oz truly takes flight; Garland, able to tear
out the heart with her sentimental longings in ‘Over the Rainbow’, and then,
just as easily, bask her audience in the tender afterglow of Dorothy’s
new-found humanity at the end. Viewing Oz today, and in light of Temple’s own
formidable talents and popularity, it is virtually impossible to imagine her in
the role.
At sixteen
Garland was, in fact, much too old – and even the wrong type (at least in
theory) for the part of the Kansas waif, whisked away to the magical land
beyond the rainbow. But in hindsight, she typified the hallmarks of Baum’s
precocious heroine – chiefly, gumption – and undeniably, the raw emotional
center, necessary to warble and cajole her way through this brightly colored,
though oft harrowing and dark, fantasy landscape. Dorothy Gale has since been
interpreted as a feminist – her ability to impact the world around her in a
positive light, and, against seemingly insurmountable odds, viewed as very
pro-woman, or at the very least, imbued with the moxie of ‘girl power’. Dorothy
is never demonstrative on her manifest destiny vision quest, rather staunchly
optimistic and forthright in her singular goal – namely, to arrive at Oz’s
capital - the Emerald City - and make her demands (as well as those of her
three cohorts) known to the fellow in charge. And Garland addresses something
greater from within than the simply girl with the intuitive desire to return
home. That Garland’s Dorothy excels best when she sings is a given – especially
when retrospectively examining the remainder of her illustrious career. But to
find Garland absorbed by the character of Dorothy - the actress, as great as
any of her time, either of screen or stage, is never anything less than a
revelation.
I have seen The
Wizard of Oz far too many times to re-account. Yet, Garland’s performance
never fails to provoke unpretentious tears of joy, exuberance and – that most
intangible of all qualities for a movie to conjure (much less consistently
recreate) – magic. Arguably, Garland is the greatest illusionist of the 2oth
century – the maker of myths and the giver of life to this fanciful
never-never-land. Without refute, she remains an undisputed megastar from
Hollywood’s golden age. As the only earthling inside Oz’s
supernatural realm, Garland becomes our goodwill ambassador to this other world
– spreading lightness and cheer, offering hope and perspective to virtually all
whom she meets, who otherwise lack the wherewithal to pursue these qualities
for themselves, or have already surrendered, and are therefore at the mercy of
the Wicked Witch of the West.
For Dorothy’s
trio of yellow brick road-toting cohorts, MGM originally selected Buddy Ebsen,
Bert Lahr and Ray Bolger – all veterans of the stage who had broken through to
popular appeal in the movies. Early camera tests reveal Ebsen as a rather
goofy-looking Tin Man – serviceable but hardly the ideal. Ebsen would suffer a
near fatal accident during pre-production; inhaling so much aluminum dust used
in his makeup applications that it literally coated his lungs, necessitating a
prolonged recuperation in hospital. In his absence, MGM recast the part with
Jack Haley, changing the makeup from aluminum dust to aluminum paste. As
shooting progressed, another accident would befall: this time, Margaret
Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West, severely scorched when the fireball effect
meant to conceal her disappearance through a drop floor on the Munchkinland
stage misfired; the flames melting the highly toxic green makeup on her face
and hands.
We must also
give a generous nod to the picture’s monumentally achieved production design,
beginning with resident couturier, Adrian’s costume designs and Jack Dawn’s
peerless makeup; exquisite with details as fine as rivets, applications of
burlap and real yak hair, and a formidable array of ornate and colorful suits
and dresses for the little people of Munchkinland. Arguably, none were a joy to
wear. Judy Garland’s gingham and calico ensemble came with the added restraint
of a wire bodice to strap her bosom down to conceal her burgeoning womanhood.
Bert Lahr’s cowardly lion suit, made of real yak hair, weighed almost fifty
pounds, while Ray Bolger’s facial makeup required painful applications of
spirit gum, cloth and straw matted to his chin, face, forehead and brows.
Worse, working
without the luxury of air conditioning, the huge arc lights necessary for
Technicolor to register properly inside these vast and cavernous soundstages,
caused temperatures inside to rise well over one-hundred degrees. The lights
also occasionally sparked, making loud noises that interrupted and delayed the
shooting. While Oz’s production design was credited to Cedric
Gibbons – as the studio’s resident architect of ‘the MGM style’ – the actual
heavy lifting, under his supervision fell to Malcolm Brown, William A. Horning,
Jack Martin Smith, George Gibson, Wade B. Rubottom and Elmer Sheeley, of which
only Sheeley would share an on-screen credit as Oz’s supervising
‘art director’.
MGM spared no
expense – both in making, and marketing The Wizard of Oz – the lineups
for tickets outside Radio City Music Hall starting at five-thirty in the
morning. Over the years, rumors have suggested that Oz was a
colossal flop. Yet, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, Oz
was an overnight sensation; one that, due to its staggering production costs,
and the modest price of movie tickets in 1939, failed to recoup its initial
outlay during its first theatrical run. Undaunted, MGM continued to reissue the
movie, eventually making back its costs and turning a profit. But Oz’s
real longevity began in the mid-1950's when CBS elected to air it on national
television.
Those who had
never seen Oz in its Technicolor and sepia splendor now could
only experience it in fuzzy/grainy B&W. But that did not dissuade millions
of new admirers from instantly falling under its spell. Still, the movie might
just as easily have swung the other way, what with constant debate in the front
offices over the inclusion of the Harold Arlen song ‘Over The Rainbow’ that
some executives believed slowed down the Kansas sequence. Arthur Freed fought
like hell for it to remain in the picture. Today, one cannot imagine Oz
without this iconic and Oscar-winning song. It became the cornerstone of Judy
Garland’s later concert career.
Translated into over 50 languages since its debut, The Wizard of Oz
remains the most widely seen and instantly recognizable motion picture ever
made. There really is nothing comparable to the genuine love people continue to
have for it.
At this point,
it seems rather ridiculous to provide a plot synopsis to the movie. I mean,
where have you been if you haven’t heard this one before?!? In brief, when
Dorothy Gale (Judy Garland) is swept up by a cyclone and deposited into that
magical land beyond the rainbow she meets three of its isolated inhabitants: a
lonely scarecrow (Ray Bolger), perceptive tin man (Jack Haley) and cowardly
lion (Bert Lahr). Each represents a
piece of Dorothy’s inner quest to find her own true place within the world at
large; the scarecrow is Dorothy’s thirst for knowledge; the tin man, her desire
to be compassionate, and the lion, indicative of her own inner fears,
repeatedly tested and eventually conquered with genuine fortitude.
Unfortunately, Dorothy makes rather a bad enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West
(Margaret Hamilton).
With the aid of
her friends and a personal commitment to her safety made possible by Glinda,
the Good Witch of the North’s (Billie Burke) kiss and bequest of magical ruby
slippers – Dorothy sets out to learn that the greatest adventure of all is the
realization that one can achieve their own destiny. The film’s prophetic
introduction to infer “time has been powerless to put its’ kindly philosophy
out of fashion” has since served as the best summation of Oz’s
enduring cultural impact. Certainly, for a world bracing for the European
conflict in 1939, Oz served as a reminder of the possibilities
that life has to offer, even under seemingly impossible conditions; a
reinvigorating message to bolster and massage humanity's everlasting idealism
in mankind's progress and faith in a brighter tomorrow.
1939 was a hell
of a year in Hollywood – its spate of worthy contenders for the coveted Best
Picture Academy Award going well beyond the sacred 10 that were, in fact,
nominated for the honor eventually afforded David O. Selznick’s Gone with the
Wind. And viewed from the vantage of 85 years removed from the talents and
timeline that gave it life, The Wizard of Oz remains a peerless
achievement; like GWTW, that perfect flowering from an ancient and
empirical dream factory, where creative integrity, wed to corporate
statesmanship, evolved along a parallel course, destined to produce everlasting
works of art. Oz’s purpose is clear, serving as a reminder that
one’s place in the world does not come from the magical fulfillment and
dabbling of some omnipotent power, but is steadfast and undiluted within the
very heart and soul of our own concrete desires to give form and context to our
dreams. And even if what lies ahead does not present itself under the most
ideal of circumstances, the underlying message rings unvarnished and true. “There
is ‘still’ no place like home.” In the 85 years since gone by, the art of
fantasy films has never been so honest or as appealing.
I’m not going to
spend a great deal of time on this one…not because The Wizard of Oz isn’t
worth it, but rather because I don’t know how many more ways Warner Home Video
can rape the legacy of this perennial classic while forsaking that other monumental
achievement from the same year – Gone with the Wind, simply because some
of its racially sensitive content may ‘offend’. Aside: if you’re that easily
offended by art on celluloid, you really have no business watching movies –
period!
Seriously, Oz
has to be one of the most repurposed, repackaged, remastered movies in history.
If you already own the 80th 4K UHD, you know what you are getting
here. The same, with a bit of bling, though not enough to really make it
worth your while. Honestly, if Warner Home Video had actually wanted to do
right by Oz, they might have included the 2D and 3D editions
remastered in 4K, with accompanying Blu’s of each, and a completely remastered
2-disc CD of the complete soundtrack, and, in an oversized deluxe collector’s
box that had more to offer than a few lobby cards and poster reproductions.
Yep, that’s all,
folks. Still want to fork over in excess of $40 for another ‘limiting’ edition
of Oz on home video? I mean, Warner couldn’t even come up with
original cover art. This is the same graphic used to market the 2005
3-disc DVD set, albeit, with an ‘85th’ sticker plastered overtop.
So, how does
this 4K look? Just like the 80th Anniversary 4K UHD, derived from the same
native 4K scan of original Technicolor nitrate negatives in 8K, with HDR
applied, with the same 5.1 DTS track, and still NO original mono
mix. There’s the same audio commentary assembled for Oz’s
deluxe DVD release and the same litany of extras as before: 1990’s CBS
Special – The Wonderful Wizard of Oz – hosted by Angela Lansbury,
on the 4K disc, with all of the other same extras housed on the standard
Blu that have been around since Oz’s 70th anniversary home video
release. Still axed from this re-re-re-re-re-re-reissue, the vintage biography
on director, Victor Fleming from Oz’s 50th, and, the
fabulous doc, MGM: When The Lion Roars, that, for a while, Warner Home
Video was handing out like Pez candy with every classic movie box set.
As you might
have guessed, I am sincerely NOT a fan of repackaged movies on home video while
other worthwhile content continues to wait in the wings for even a single
hi-def release. By now, there ought to have been at least Blu-rays of Ryan’s
Daughter, Red Dust, Marie Antoinette, Maytime, High Society, Till the Clouds
Roll By, Royal Wedding, Mrs. Parkington, Mr. Skeffington, The Valley of
Decision, Week-end at the Waldorf, Scaramouche, The White Cliffs of Dover,
Random Harvest, Around the World in 80 Days, Captain Blood, A Woman’s Face,
When Ladies Meet, and on, and on, and on and on. But no. Just another Oz,
in time for the holidays. Yet, at this point, who doesn’t already own Oz
in at least one or two home video reincarnations? Want another Oz in 4K to add to
your collection. Wait until the 90th or 100th anniversary.
By then, perhaps Warner will get all their munchkins in a row and really do something
to astound us. This slapdash effort isn’t it. Recommended ONLY
for those 6 individuals around the world who have NEVER owned Oz
on any home video format before.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
5+
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