GOODFELLAS Blu-ray

Martin Scorsese is the greatest filmmaker in the history of the cinema. It’s a bold statement, but after watching GoodFellas again, for what must be the 10th or so time now in my quarter century (and change) of existence, I can say that with relative certainty. Now, there are directors who I enjoy more – who mesh with my sensibilities on style and content, like Michelangelo Antonioni, Brian De Palma, Robert Bresson and John Carpenter, but none are as inherently “good” at storytelling as that mousy little Italian from the Bronx. Compared to his contemporaries (like De Palma or Carpenter) or to the celebrated auteurs of the genre (Antonioni and Bresson, among many others), Scorsese demonstrates an almost effortless command of genre, able to switch gears from period melodrama to hard-nosed gangster pictures with utter ease. While he certainly shows an affinity for the movies on the mean streets, he’s proven with black comedies like The King of Comedy and After Hours to period dramas like The Age of Innocence and The Aviator and even musical (New York, New York) and documentarian (My Voyage to Italy) interludes in between, that he can handle anything. And he can do it so well that his skill is virtually transparent.

We’ve come to expect things from Scorsese’s work – a roaming camera, quick cuts, insular leading men, bursts of emotional violence and deep seeded religious torment, and usually we get them. But what makes Scorsese so good is the way he we’ve these auteur trademarks into his work with such transparency. In Carpenter films I’ll pick out the Hawksian line exchange, the arbitrary four actor cinemascope composition, the Western outlook. I’ll see Carpenter in those moments, shining through whatever story he is telling. With Scorsese, his common storytelling recipes instead only help spice his actual story. They serve the material first before the director, even if they are obvious marks of his authorship. Case in point that virtuoso tracking shot when Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) takes his bride to be Karen (Lorraine Bracco, who'd land The Sopranos based on her work here) from the street, between the crowd, in through the basement and up and seated into the night club. It’s one of the most complicated and choreographed sequences I’ve ever seen, requiring virtually a city block worth of lighting, extras and blocking, and requiring nearly a full 1000 footer of 35mm film stock per take. Looking at the scene in a film class, it’s simply amazing. Scorsese’s defining shot. But looking at it within the scene, you’re hard pressed to even notice the complexity of the shot itself because it integrates so clearly with the fluidity of the moment. This is Karen discovering a whole new world, and the shot shows the interconnectedness the mob has with people and place. It may have Scorsese’s stamp all over it, but it works so well within the context of GoodFellas that you’d be hard pressed to point it out. That’s what makes a master of the medium.

Now when it comes to GoodFellas specifically, we could talk about the performances – how pitch perfect Liotta, De Niro, Pesci and Sorvino are in bringing depth, range and volatility to characters usually conceived of as shallow heavies in the Hollywood era. We could talk about the kinetic cinematography, the crisscrossing editing or even Saul Bass’ pitch perfect title cards. All these things are great, and all further demonstration of how strong a collaborator Scorsese is with both his cast and crew. But what makes the film for me is how accessible, enjoyable and in motion his film is. When you hear Scorsese speak at award ceremonies (and we’ve heard plenty these last few years!) he’s always motoring a mile a minute with endless tangents of interest, and when you watch how fast and observant GoodFellas is with time, psychology, characterization and metaphor, you can see that energy bleed through into his films. It’s not a “gangster movie” as we know it, like The Godfather or Scarface or Angels with Dirty Wings. It’s a biopic, it’s a period piece, it’s a drama, hell, it’s even a thriller for that tricked out bit of drug-induced paranoia that closes off the third act of the film. It’s so many things rolled into one, and each and every aspect is so compelling, from the little things like the observations about gangster names (“everyone is named ‘Peter’ or ‘Paul’!”) to the bigger things like Tommy’s (Joe Pesci) little guy complex or the thin line between laugh and death (“funny how?”). Whatever it is, it never feels like it’s a film about a theme or a story – it just feels like it is. It lives.

GoodFellas is probably the most visually stylish and kinetic film I can think of that still manages to come off as almost documentarian-like in its truths and closeness to character. You really feel like you are that camera following Henry into the night club, or the guy taking those stabs to the stomach for telling Tommy to fetch his shine box. Scorsese throws you right into the story (with that opening “from as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a gangster” line) and never lets you out until those last frame gun shots hit you like a sobering alarm clock. It’s an upper, it’s a downer and it’s an all around jolt to the safe artificiality of the cinema. GoodFellas is a movie that is so bustling with life you almost feel like a character is going to come out of the screen all Purple Rose of Cairo style to whisk you into Scorsese’s fabulous world. And you wish it could be so. It’s as vivacious a film Scorsese has ever made, and as long as I’m living I’ll have comfort knowing that GoodFellas will be living right there beside me.

presentation...

Speaking of life, this new 1080p transfer certainly is as close to it as we’ve come with the film on home video. Previously released on HD-DVD, the film gets a minor face lift here on Blu-ray, slightly richer colors and a bit more cleanup. Some of the scenes still play a bit darker than they probably should. Also, there were a few scenes where I noticed some artificial sharpening, but for the most part the picture looks solid without looking falsely crisp or processed. It’s not quite as sharp as the new films today, but as the film approaches its twenty year anniversary, it still looks pretty damn dapper. Not Jimmy Conway dapper, but hey, here’s a twenty, go buy a drink.

The sound is presented in disappointing Dolby Digital 5.1. I can see using that for the early days of HD-DVD, but a few years later on Blu-ray, when everyone is using lossless TrueHD or DTS-HD, and this certainly sounds dated. Not only is the track thinner and more muffled compared to HD audio masters, but there’s a pretty lazy use of the surrounds. There is very little depth to the track, and overall it’s merely passable. For a film of such pedigree, the sound deserved so much more.

extras...

On this Blu-ray you essentially get everything that was on the special 2-disc DVD and the HD-DVD in addition to a feature length Turner classics documentary on gangster films on a separate DVD. “Public Enemies: The Golden Age of the Gangster Film” if nothing else, will certainly give you a laundry list of interesting gangster films to add to the movie queue. It examines the big stars from the era, the big producers who made them, and the big studio, Warner Brothers, where many were made. It tries to make connections between the past and present, and offers up some interesting historic events that helped shape the course of the genre. Also included on the disc are some amusing gangster-themed cartoons. Neither are essential for the enjoyment of GoodFellas, but they do offer a nice perk for fans of the genre.

Now, on to the older stuff. There are two commentaries culled together from past interviews from the last two decades. The first, “Cast and Crew” contains Scorsese, Liotta, Bracco, Sorvino, Frank Vincent and a number of the top brass on the film. The second, “Cop and Crook” has the real Henry Hill along with former FBI agent Edward McDonald. Hill’s commentary isn’t quite as engaging or revealing as one would hope, but the cast and crew piece is just stuffed with interesting stuff. That’s five hours of extras right there.

There are also three featurettes. “Getting Made” again culls together a number of older interviews, including some with Pesci and De Niro, as well as a bunch of behind the scenes footage to really give you a sense of the production. The best bits are the candid shots of Scorsese directing on set. Totally engaging. The next doc, “Made Men: The GoodFellas Legacy” features a number of top Hollywood directors talking about how good the film is and the kind of influence it has had on their careers. Among the directors are the Hughes brothers, Jon Favereau, Joe Carnahan, Richard Linklater and Frank Darabont. Who knew Darabont screened it every Saturday while making Shawshank? The last featurette again goes for the “truth” angle by interviewing Henry Hill and others on the reality of the gangster lifestyle. Again, ehh, not so good, but I guess it’s good to have here.

Rounding off the set is “Paper is Cheaper than Film”, which is a sizable storyboard-to-screen comparison. Finally, the classic theatrical trailer is also included. Like Warner’s other HD product, this does not have a main menu and the movie just begins playing upon insertion. The package is in a nice shiny bookcase packaging similar to previous Blu-rays for JFK and Natural Born Killers. There’s a nice picture-laden booklet glued in between the two discs. The packaging gives the film class worthy of a fine plate of pasta at the Copacabana.

wrapping it up...

GoodFellas is a brisk and beautiful bit of filmmaking levity by Martin Scorsese. So stylized, yet so verite-like in its directness, it’s one of those rare movies that can just do it all and captivate you every step of the way. It’s so much more than just your standard gangster film, it’s a living, breathing document of life and death, family and friends and all the bumps in between. And a lot of violence. The video is slightly better than the HD-DVD but still not quite perfect, and the sound is sadly missing the HD upgrade it deserves. The bonus documentary is a nice addition, and the featurettes are great, but those with HD-DVD players would probably be better off getting that disc for a couple bucks rather than shelling out $34.99 for this modest upgrade. Regardless, though, this is a masterpiece that demands to be in your collection. Don’t be surprised to wake up to the gun shots of Joe Pesci if you don’t get it.

overall... Content: A Video: B Audio: B- Extras: B+ Final Grade: B

HEAT Blu-ray

“I told you I’m never going back…”
-Last Lines, Heat

While it maybe be De Niro’s character, Neil McCauley saying that, it may as well be taken as De Niro’s commentary on his future career. After two decades of giving nuanced subtly both edge and pathos, depending on the character he played, De Niro seemed to lay it all out in Michael Mann’s truly iconic Heat. The movie ended up becoming one of those warmly reviewed but coldly received movies that sort of just got lost in the shuffle in 1995. While I wouldn’t levy all of De Niro’s career choices forward on this film alone, I’m sure it’s lack of awards and audience acclaim left him seeking a more commercial place in the spotlight. The Fan would come next, and between bombastic action or silly comedies like Analyze This and The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle, Deniro became less an actor and more a figurehead for what good acting used to be. He also became a producer, and from the late nineties onwards, his career choices have been driven more by the producer’s desire to make money rather than the actor’s need to make art. But enough of that, let’s focus on one of his great roles in one of the grandest films of the nineties, newly on Blu-ray from Warner Brothers.


Heat pits De Niro against Pacino, but not really. Not really in the sense that neither ever share a frame of film together. They have a scene where they are in the same room, but the shots never allow either a chance to converge. They aren’t pitted together, either, because ultimately Mann reveals both characters to essentially be the same. They are professionals so obsessed with their work that they cause harm to those they love the most. They live for the thrill of the chase, but when the race is over they can’t leave the sidelines. De Niro is professional robber Neil McCauley, while Pacino is driven lieutenant Vincent Hanna. Neil’s got a team of robbers, lead by Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), and Pacino has a team of officers, lead by Sergeant Drucker (Mykelti Williamson). Neil’s seeing Eady (sweet Amy Brenneman) and Vincent’s married with a daughter (Natalie Portman in one of her first roles), but for both of them, their family are their colleagues. Their job is their life.

What Michael Mann does over the next three hours is completely pick apart the cops and robbers genre, removing it from the good guy/bad guy archetypes it had become to one that taps into the universal essence of being. It matters less that Pacino gets his man, and more that in getting his man he’s given up everything. More than that, the poetically heart-wrenching finale finds that he hasn’t stopped a bad guy, but he’s lost a friend. He’s lost a part of himself. The supporting cast is terrific, the score, comprised of some beautiful steely ambient tracks from Brian Eno and a show stopping finale from the Kronos Quartet, is sublime, and the action scenes are just as intense as the dramatic ones. Like a De Niro performance in its prime, the film is both riling and understated, tense and contemplative, visceral and poetic. It came from a time when everyone was re-writing history, from Kevin Costner with Dances with Wolves to Clint Eastwood with Unforgiven, but there’s no question that Michael Mann re-wrote it best. Heat’s a film that burns brighter each and every year, and one of the true contemporary classics.

presentation...


After being one of the most ubiquitous DVDs of its time as a snapper cased budget title, Heat finally made the leap to the big leagues a couple years ago with a packed two disc special edition. Presentation wise, the DVDs were hardly different. The special edition had a slightly squeezed aspect ratio and at times slightly sharper picture because of the higher peaks in the bitrate, but overall the differences were negligible. Color timing was still the same and detail wasn’t at its best. This Blu-ray is an improvement in both detail and color timing, with details like the pores on skin or threads on a jacket now visible. While there is still noticeable grain from time to time, this is more a stylistic choice and less a fault of the transfer. Color has been corrected in most scenes, too, restoring a slightly colder hue that fits with the theme of detachment the film weaves so exquisitely. This Blu-ray is noticeably darker in scenes, which is odd considering most Blu-rays open up the contrast range, but given Mann is a perfectionist when it comes to overseeing the visuals of his films on DVD, I wouldn’t doubt he was behind that change. Overall, a decent upgrade compared to the previous DVD, but still not quite reference quality.


Heat blazes in a Dolby TrueHD 5.1 track, and it sounds great. Really full and almost organic at how the sound effects and all of the ambient musical tonalities come out bleeding from each speaker. It’s mostly subtle, but the big heist sequences certainly pack a punch too. The end sequence, with the airplanes flying by, makes a significant impact in TrueHD. A very strong upgrade.

extras...


The first extra bullet lists “New Content Changes Supervised by Director Michael Mann”, but by the looks of it, he didn’t have to supervise all that much. The extras are essentially identical to the previous two-disc DVD. Considering how packed that set was, though, I’m not really complaining. First is a commentary with Michael Mann. It’s got a lot of dead space in it, (and how could it not at 170 minutes?) but Mann still does expunge a lot of good detail about character and his overall director’s intent.


There are 11 additional scenes included, running just under10 minutes total. Some scenes are just a few collections of Pacino one liners, while most others are longer scenes with supporting characters like Tom Sizemore or Danny Trejo that add to the story but aren’t essential to the narrative. They are all presented interlaced and full screen letterboxed.


The meat of the extras are the five featurettes that run close to an hour and a half total. Each deconstructs a different facet of the film, and the people behind these must be commended for assembling so much of both the cast and the crew. Almost all the actors have come back again to speak, save for De Niro who participates via a 1995 interview. What’s great is that all the crew, from the first assistant director to the sound mixer, are back to talk about their recollections of the film. You can tell this was an important film and a passion project for so many because everyone has such vivid recollections of Michael’s vision and the awestruck moments that happened throughout the production.


Breaking it all down, here’s how the featurettes are brought together:

The first three featurettes are grouped together with an optional play all function. The first is “True Crime” (14:45) which talk about the real life cop and criminal who inspired Vincent and Neil in the film. The second is “Crime Stories” (20:25) where the actors reflect on their impressions of the story, Michael Mann talks about trying to add dimension to stock characters and how it had its genesis as the television pilot for L.A. Takedown. Of the three “Into the Fire” (23:52) is the best, talking about the actual production, including the heist sequence and the training that had to be done, rife with footage of De Niro firing real bullets on the gun range.


Curiously the other two featurettes, done in the similarly intertwined recollections fashion, are included on their own. The standout is naturally “Pacino and De Niro: The Conversation” (9:54) where actors, producers, a critic and Michael Mann all reflect on the magic that was the first scene where Pacino and De Niro share the same scene. They talk about first the actual effect the meeting has in the final film, and then later reveal how it was accomplished and just how professional both actors were in pulling the whole thing off. The second bit, “Return to the Scene of the Crime” (12:12) has the location manager and the associate producer returning to all the locations in the film, including the final scene at the LAX airport, explaining how the locations were, why Michael Mann wanted it and whether or not it would be possible to film there today.


Heat is such an important and epic picture, it’s wonderful that Warner treated it as such with its extras, avoiding any facet of promotion and instead zeroing in on the material as if it were a full class on film. The biggest surprise for me was just how eloquent everyone was in describing themes and interpretations from the film. Ashley Judd and Jon Voight in particular really come off as quite insightful and intelligent.


Rounding off the extras are the three trailers that were found on the original DVD, and ones that are nearly as iconic as the picture itself. The “Two Actors Collide” trailer has always been a favorite, and even in its short timeframe, evokes such an incredible, even nostalgic, mood.

wrapping it up...


Heat is a sprawling 170-minute character study masked as an L.A. crime picture. It’s Michael Mann’s ability to capture both the big picture and the small moments sometimes together at the same time that makes the picture such a touching and enthralling rarity in cinema. This is one of the rare movies where I’ll occasionally just fire up the ending and find myself floored nearly to tears at the beautiful tragedy that Mann creates. It’s one of a kind, and with a powerful presentation and hours of truly worthy featurettes, deleted scenes and commentary, Heat’s a movie everyone should warm to. Whether you get this Blu-ray or the supplementally same DVD, this is an essential purchase.

overall... Content: A Video: B+ Audio: A- Extras: A- Final Grade: A