THE NEVERENDING STORY Blu-ray

They don’t make ‘em like they used to…or maybe with Wolfgang Petersen's The NeverEnding Story they never did make them like that. A labor of love for Germany with its most promising directorial upstart since Herzog, and a team of seasoned artists, puppeteers, craftsmen and composers, The NeverEnding Story is one of those great films made by great people looking to put themselves on the international map. Forgive the crass comparison, but it’s almost like an Evil Dead on a fantasy scale, where the innovations of style and presentation supersede the kind of big budgets that Hollywood uses to try and mask creative bankruptcy. That’s not to say The NeverEnding Story had a small budget, it was Germany’s largest at the time, but for a dark and quirky little export, it was the creativity of the presentation that turned it into a mainstay of American rental shelves and the canon of children the world over. Riding furry dragons, battling the nothing, naming the empress…these are the goals of a child born in the eighties.

I say that with pride, since the positive message that we’re all stars of our own story certainly is a great mantra to grow up with. I also say that with a tinge of regret, too, since the films the kiddies get today are missing so much of the core of what makes great art like The NeverEnding Story. When the saccharine of Pixar and the shallow showmanship of Harry Potter are the best kids films have to offer, maybe the nothing has indeed won. The NeverEnding Story, by comparison, is a film unafraid to trudge through the darkness of the human spirit in order to find the light of self-reflection. Perhaps that’s the German tradition, Brothers Grimm and all, but the way Petersen’s film faces the darkest fears of childhood – from losing your mother, your pet, your courage or your friends to contemplating even your own death, makes for some weighty and affecting themes. There are few films, even today, that have moved me inside the way The NeverEnding Story has in the swamps of sadness or in the ethereal final plea by The Childlike Empress. It’s tragic, epic stuff, and being brought through the emotional NeverEnding Story reel no doubt helped me cope with those kind of pressures and realities that come later in life.

It’s amazing, really, all the grand, Homer-like themes of grandiose self-discovery that are squeezed into this taut little 90-minute narrative. In addition to the whole notion of death that permeates the film in various shapes, whether it’s personified by wolf or by nothing itself, the film also immaculately weaves in themes of heaven, art and imagination. Three years before The Princess Bride, we’re captivated by a self-referential narrative where the child reading the story is more important, even, than the story itself. Unlike The Princess Bride, though, this is more than just a clever bookend. It allows Wolfgang Petersen the chance to explore the power of storytelling and art, and how the creativity of the mind is really mankind’s only way at immortality. The way Fantasia, the crumbling world of the narrative-within-a-narrative, can be rebuilt with only the wishes of a small boy, is like the ultimate personification of self-worth. What better message for a child, or anyone, really, than the notion that as long as you can dream death and emptiness can never exist? That sounds better than me than the mantra that you should treat your toys better because they have feelings, too.

The NeverEnding Story is certainly in a league of its own when it comes to the maturity of its story and its grappling with college-level themes;. When the narrative double breaks the fourth wall by not only having the characters of Fantasia refer to their reader, but then the reader refer to us, you know this is a film that dares to challenge rather than passively entertain the viewer with say a game of quiddich. But it’s Petersen’s magnificent vision, and the skills of his team, that make the presentation just as opulent as its story origins. Even today, over 25 years later, the visuals are an orgy of sprawling imagery. Fantasia certainly is as beautiful as you could dream it be, and the camera never seems at a standstill, breezing through the beautiful world like Falcor in flight. And it certainly doesn’t stop with the camera. Almost every shot in Fantasia is a composite of momentous matte work, detailed miniatures, inventive force perspective scaling or near life-like animatronics to make all those imaginative creatures come to life. And the beauty of it all is that it’s all tangible. It’s all real.

Not to sound the curmudgeon, but something dire has been lost in cinema’s move to computer effects work. I’ve been saying this for years when it comes to horror films, and how the magician-like artistry that went into devising all those murderous set pieces like those seen in Friday the 13th or The Thing has simply been replaced with an all encompassing computer program. Every image in The NeverEnding Story, yes, does invite that curious sense of awe in how the makers were able to do it, but more than that, it gives the film an organic richness that turns the fantasy into more than just eye candy, but actually something that could be real. Watching it again today, Atreyu’s quest seems filled with such peril because that poor boy really is slung through pits of thick sloppy mud, tornados-worth of wind and shoe-fulls of sand. You practically want to have a shower yourself after watching him trudge through all those dreary swamps. It’s all that organic, tangible art direction that gives the film such a real, inhabitable quality that just can never be in CG films. Even the sometimes stilted facial puppeting feels more real than pitch-perfect facial computing because you see that real, physical quality of the characters. In the way it effectively blends the layers of fantasy and reality, the film truly does create a neverending quality.

A critique of the film wouldn’t be complete without its score and Limahl’s undeniably catchy title tune. It should be noted that Limahl’s track, under the synthized guidance of one of the kings of the entire synth-pop soundscape, Giorgio Moroder, itself is neverending. It starts as it ends, with a slow fade, never beginning or ending at any single moment. It’s always going, just as our stories, like Bastian’s, are constantly being written. It’s a simple but wonderfully telling sound device that Moroder, as well as Klaus Doldinger, who composed all traditional orchestral tracks, utilize throughout the film with their elliptical, repetitive themes.

Through sound, through image and through story, The NeverEnding Story is a film that captivates and inspires. It’s one of the most grand and beautiful stories ever captured on film – one so effective Hollywood tried to copy it twice with great failure with 1989 and 1994 sequels and a few equally uninspired television series. Warner Brothers tried to do as the title said to continue on the tale, but the irony is that the first film itself has, over the years, proven itself to in essence be never ending. So filled with wonder and emotion, it’s a story so great that it demands to be seen again and again. Seen as a child and again as a teen, later in middle age and certainly later on as a senior; it’s a film so in tune with the essence of humanity that it always speaks a new tale with every viewing. By it once, watch it forever. This is your stranded on a desert island film. The quintessential family film and the one tangible document that makes a religious agnostic like myself believe that there may indeed be a heaven. That’s The NeverEnding Story.

presentation...

Wolfgang Petersen recently revealed to online controversy that he had not been approached for this Blu-ray release of arguably his most famous film. He mentioned he would have liked to have overseen the coloring of the video, but honestly, the coloring is probably this transfer’s best asset. All those sunset-hued matte paintings and oil-in-water effects work exhibit striking colors, and every other texture, from orange school lockers to the claustrophobic browns of Bastian’s emotionally-deepled homestead are all so rich in detail. They really look great. Something Petersen, and I guess Warner, could not shape, however, is the quality of the image, which sadly looks a little soft here. Nothing is ever sharp enough to render as lifelike or three dimensional. At first I thought it might be a product of all that optical work, which inherently softens an image since it in effect shoots the same thing twice, but softness was demonstrated even in close-ups without any visible effects work. I also noticed some slight flickering at times and some inconsistency in black levels during some of the darker scenes with Gmork and Bastian in the school attic. Still, for a film shot and realized as beautifully as The NeverEnding Story, this concerns seem like mere nitpicking. It’s a beautiful looking movie, and even if the sharpness or contrast doesn’t entirely hold, at least we’re finally able to experience it cleaned up nicely in 1080p HD.

The back of the Blu-ray advertises “For the First Time in 5.1 Audio!” and yes, it’s certainly cause for elation. The DTS-HD Master Audio track is wonderful – filled with a very deep sound space. There were several instances that really gave my subwoofer a workout. When the nothing comes, the sound literally sucks from all speakers, and it’s an almost overwhelming sound that really feels involving. There is also a very distinct use of channel separation, both in the front and back channels. When Fantasia is reduced to mere bits floating in space, you actually hear each piece fly by you from front to back. It’s very effective. This happens throughout, not just for select sequences. Considering the monaural origins of the source material, the resonance and envelopment of this surround sound track is all the more impressive. It’s rare that a remix track holds weight with those you’d hear in theaters today, but I’m delighted to say that The NeverEnding Story is one of them. Amazing!

extras...

The nothing must have taken a pit stop at the Warner Brothers lot, because there isn’t a single extra included on this release. Even the DVD at least had the original trailer. For a film whose resonance will surely only build as the children from the eighties show it to their children and beyond, it’s a shame there hasn’t been a full on special edition to try and encapsulate the magic. Although the images on screen are all filled with such wonder, perhaps dispelling the myths about the film would somehow deflate the magnificence of the final product. Maybe, but at least give us a “where are they now” with all the child actors so memorably captured in the film. Or even better, how about including the LP that Childlike Empress Tami Stronach released shortly after the film using similar synth stylings to Moroder's work on the film. One can dream, right Bastian?

wrapping it up...

The NeverEnding Story is quintessential storytelling, as important for our humanity as the morality plays of The Brothers Grimm. It’s got a story that explores both dark and deep themes surrounding art and humanity and a presentation so rich in visual and audible beauty that brings the fantastical Fantasia to life. The film is all about the imagination, and what Petersen and his crew of artists put on screen is certainly as fantastic as anyone could ever imagine. The image quality isn’t quite as fantastic, although it’s been cleaned up and colored effectively. The sound, though, is as rich a 5.1 restoration as I’ve ever heard. No extras is again the sad reality for a film that dreams so big, but for a film this good, any extra would be mere window dressing. It’s a window into our soul and a vast expanse of the things that make humanity so inspiring. Buy it and watch it again and again, for this is a tale that should never cease to be told. A story that should never end.

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

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

GONE WITH THE WIND Blu-ray

If America would preserve only one film from its sprawling legacy of motion pictures, there would be no better candidate than Victor Flemming’s Gone with the Wind. And no, I’m not just saying that because its main character is where I derive my namesake. No, Gone with the Wind is the quintessential American masterpiece. A film that has it all, an epic story of the history of a nation, expansive with the biggest sets, largest casts, most splendid art design and a truly timeless use of Technicolor. With a runtime just shy of four hours, pound for pound there’s no single artifact of grander splendor than this defining moment of the peak of the Classical Hollywood era. You don’t need me to tell you its greatness, though; Hollywood has done a good enough job of that with all the countless re-releases, be they on television, video, DVD or theatrical re-engagements. As long as pictures still move, there will be no wind that could ever carry this film away.

And now today, on the dawn of its 70th anniversary, the film is being released again once more. This will mark its fifth incarnation on DVD, but of greater significance its first time on Blu-ray. From the burning of Atlanta to the epic silhouettes at sunset, the film is filled with some of the most beautiful images committed to celluloid. Three strips of celluloid, to be specific. Yes, there have always been revival film exhibitions of the film with every passing decade it seems, this gives us the first time to really deconstruct the images up close. To pause it, to look deep into the deep focus photography to admire and ingest all the production value inherent in every frame. Gone with the Wind has always stood as an artifact of perfection – just how perfect is it in HD?

For me, this perfection that Gone with the Wind has attained in its grandiose cinematography, it’s colossal sets and the unending supply of extras has almost given the film a hollow sense of cold calculation. There never seemed to be any degree of creative pressure. No lack of budget to force a scene to be down-scaled. No lack of extras to force a scene into close-ups. No lack of daylight to get that countryside crane shot. Anything this film wanted, and I do refer to the film as a separate entity since it passed through so many hands creatively I couldn’t dare just call it Flemming’s, it seemingly got. Art to me has always been in fighting limitations to create greatness. Without a seeming limit on time or budget, though, it’s seemed as if Gone with the Wind never had to endure the hardships that almost any other work of significant artistic merit has had to endure. But now, in HD, the film tells a different story. Yes, it’s still a masterfully idyllic tale of the Civil War, but now, stitched into that veil of perfection, are the seams of craftsmanship.

The added resolution tellingly reveals shots that had always appeared to be sprawling vistas to instead be lifelike matte paintings. Death defying effects now reveal a grain structure that disrobe the optical imagery over-top. Those scenes on the stagecoach reveal backgrounds only achievable on a set. Yes, the clarity and color saturation indeed make the film more beautiful than it surely has ever looked at home, but even more importantly it reveals the humanity behind the production. It gives it a living, artistic blip of imperfection that it’s been long deprived since it’s made its way to the home and to new generations.

In HD no longer is this a film of almost robotic technical perfection, but instead it reveals itself as a movie driven by creativity – from the hands that painted the glorious matte paintings throughout to the optical effects of falling fire or stagecoach speed. This wasn’t just a masterpiece made by a bottomless budget, but instead one by a colossal team of artists that make the effects crews in Avatar seem like location’s manager in My Dinner with Andre. I’ve always respected, admired and awed at the film, but the way it is presented here with such clarity, I can finally appreciate it for the artistic fortitude of its creators. They have made a film where every image – from the color to the composition of actors, props and sets, is of satiating beauty. Even at four hours, this is a film that could still enthrall based on image alone.

Of course, Gone with the Wind is so much more than a pretty picture. It’s story is a wonderful combination of the macro and the micro – presenting on one hand a unified tale of the birth of America, or modernity, of the present and on the other the coming of age of one spoiled little girl. Like other grand epics to follow in its mold, Titanic and Doctor Zhivago among them, it’s able to expertly involve the audience in the plight of history by centralizing it in the heart of a lowly protagonist. It glorifies the era of Southern slavery the same way D.W. Griffith’s now sadly reviled The Birth of a Nation does, but the difference here is that it presents a developed core of central characters that aren’t just caricatured to mere brush strokes. Indeed Hattie McDaniel as the maid was the first black performer to ever win an Oscar for her impassioned performance. You won’t see that from any of the chicken eating black-faced stereotypes in The Birth of a Nation.

For a film so awe striking with all its visual splendor, it’s amazing that the performances, from Hattie McDaniel to, even more memorably, the two star crossed leads whose posterly embrace has forever resonated as a staple of fictional characterizations. As rendered by Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh, Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara are two of the grandest screen characters that just happen to reside in the most grandest of motion pictures. At a time when romance was so often melodramatic and telegraphed, the two stars inject a wily sense of unpredictability to each part that never ceases to surprise. Rhett is a rascal and Scarlett a pouty little brat, and perhaps it is these deviations from the traditional romantic archetypes that makes this love story so endearing. Or maybe it’s because the film refuses to resort to the standard clichés of romance that makes the film transcendental when Hollywood at the time was all about presenting uniformity. Gone with the Wind then, as it does now, presents a storytelling of difference that stood out from the pack not just by the splendor of its visuals, but by its refusal to be conventional, either in the story or the performances.

It’s for these reasons and so much more that Gone with the Wind forever deserves the title as the greatest of all American films. There is no way Hollywood could ever recreate the expansive splendor of the art direction, the saturation of the Technicolor process, the brawn of the lead performances or the tenacity of its convention-defying story…especially not all in the same motion picture! It’s the Mona Lisa, it’s the Bible, it’s the very idea of perfection of its medium. And on Blu-ray that perfection is preserved all the more, with its few seams revealed just to remind us that yes, this perfection was indeed culled from things that sometimes weren’t. Wow.

Presentation…

Gone with the Wind is the first film I’ve seen on this new format in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Unlike DVD, which would present films natively in 1.33:1, Blu-ray and less specifically the HD spec, present films natively in the 16x9 (1.78:1) format. As a result, the film is presented pillarboxed inside the 1.78:1 frame. As I’ve elaborated on in my critique of the film, it certainly is beautiful, the deep Technicolor hues really benefitting from the broadened color space of HD. Images are clear and very detailed without showing any signs of digital sharpening. Edges have a slight softness to them that befits reality. There is nary a piece of film damage or debris throughout. The closest you get to it are the inherent grain in the film’s many optical effects. When it comes to vintage landmarks, especially those of the Technicolor order, the desire by Hollywood is to push the saturation as far as it can go. Thankfully here there is a restraint that keeps detail in the blacks and skin tones in check, yet still allows all the other colors to breathe as surely they were intended seventy years ago. That’s the toughest thing to take with this new transfer, though – that the film is actually that old. It’s wonderful that one of the most beautiful movies still looks just as beautiful today.

The film was initially mono, and the mono is preserved here, but it’s also been given a lift to Dolby TrueHD 5.1. The audio elements seemed preserved as well as ever, with almost all traces of hiss completely removed. Every audible bit is rife with clarity, although more than the image the sound definitely reveals its age. Dialogue often contains a flat tonality, lacking the broad depth of today’s sound devices. Max Steiner’s orchestral score is effectively spread around the sound space, and occasionally during the war scenes and other major action moments, there are bits of directionality to the effects. While not quite as glorious as the pictorial restoration, the sound here still is notably restored.

Extras…

Before we get to the hours upon hours of extras, first thing’s first: the packaging on this limited edition set is breathtaking. Like this year’s earlier The Wizard of Oz, the large box is upholstered in velvet with a beautifully embossed painting of the iconic poster image on the front. Open it up and inside is a similarly spectacular array of packaging, from a large hard cover book with plenty of promotional photos to printed reproductions of important letters passed around the studio regarding casting and production. Most memorable is a 1937 letter from David O. Selznick about his three picks for the Rhett Butler part. Also included is a pitch perfect reproduction of the original 1939 program complete with beautifully painted artwork on each page. In addition to many other Selznick letters there is a nice little package of 5x7” watercolor reproduction art prints that further help to demonstrate the careful artistry that went into making the picture. All that and I’ve just talked about the paper!

Contained on the four discs in this set is possibly the healthiest array of extras any release has ever seen. Unlike previous releases of the film on video, the entire four hour picture is now presented on a single disc. No more getting up to change tapes or DVDs – it’s quite the achievement that this massive picture is contained all on a single dual-layer BD. Not only that, but there’s also a four hour commentary with historian Rudy Behlmer containing enough fact to surprisingly sustain the four hours.

Disc two is another dual-layer BD, and like the BD for the film, compresses what was once two discs of footage onto one. In this case it is over 8 hours of footage (3 new and 5 recycled from previous releases). The new footage involves the hour-long documentary “1939: Hollywood’s Greatest Year” and a new 30-minute historian retrospective on the film titled “Gone with the Wind: The Legend Lives On”. Finally, the last new extra on disc two, and certainly a notable inclusion, is the 1980 Telefilm “Moviola: The Scarlett O’Hara Story” which, you guessed it, chronicles the history of casting the part Vivien Leigh would immortalize. For those who haven’t gone through the previous 4-disc DVD, here are all the extras from that ported over to this BD:

• “The Making of a Legend” a 2-hour 1988 documentary narrated by Christopher Plummer on the rich and complex history of the film’s various stages.

• “Restoring a Legend”, made exclusively for the 2004 DVD release, about the process taken to restore the film. Too bad a Blu-ray update wasn’t also included…

• “Dixie Hails Gone with the Wind” a 1939 Newsreel of the Atlanta premiere

• “Atlanta Civil War Centennial” a 1961 Newsreel of the 100 year Civil War anniversary screening , again in Atlanta

• “The Old South” an illuminating 10-minute vintage short on the practice of cotton picking

• “Melanie Remembers: Reflections by Olivia de Havilland”a 40-minute interview with the gray and beautiful actress on what it means to be part of such a momentous picture

• “Gable: The King Remembered” an hour-long doc on the big eared Hollywood heartthrob

• “Viven Leigh: Scarlett and Beyond” a 45-minute look at the accomplished life of the actress, narrated by Jessica Lange

• “The Supporting Players” a sizable featurette on all the actors, from Ashley to Mammy, who made up the memorable cast

There are also a bunch of other little nick knacks, like the prologue detailing the history of the Civil War for non-American audiences, various scenes dubbed into different languages, several different trailers, and an awards listing. Whew!

Disc three is exclusive to the Blu-ray set, although it’s contained on a dual-sided DVD. It contains the 6(!) hour documentary, “MGM: When the Lion Roars” which, not surprisingly, details the history of one of old Hollywood’s most notable studios with thorough tribute. This was originally a mini-series in 1992 and has been effectively preserved and presented here. For film buffs, watching this is a must! This was previously featured as a Blu-ray exclusive in the similarly packaged set for The Wizard of Oz also.

And finally, this colossal set is rounded off with a comparatively stingy sampler CD of the film’s soundtrack. The CD contains eight of the film’s many tracks, although most of the major ones, like the start, the end and the escape from Atlanta all represented here.

Four discs – two Blu-rays, a DVD and a CD, as well as printed material of all sorts, truly make this the benchmark release when it comes to retrospective features. Honestly, what more could you ask for short of bringing Leigh or Gable back from the grave?

Wrapping it up…

Gone with the Wind is THE seminal American film, a demonstration of all the splendor and reverie that film as a medium can offer. Similarly, this collectible Blu-ray package represents all the involving and educating experience the home video format can offer. With nearly 20-hours of bonus material, this truly is the most thorough and enlightening tribute to any film in home video history. The video and audio are painstakingly restored and presented in a manner certainly comparable to the first Technicolor printings of this Hollywood masterwork. No film has received greater tribute than this package from Warner, and no film is more deserving than this, the finest artifact from the Golden Age of Hollywood, the indisputable king of the moving image, Gone with the Wind.

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

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