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	Gone with the Wind (4-Disc Collector's Edition)
	""And you, miss, are no lady!""	2009-11-18
This is a review of the fiddle-dee-dee-luxe Blu-ray edition. As with the "Wizard of OZ" BD set, the GWTW set is elaborated -- and made "spendier" (as a friend of mine used to say) -- with the addition of material that might not be absolutely necessary. The box is covered in red velvet flocking (green would have been funnier -- qv, Carol Burnett). There's a CD "sampler" of Max Steiner's score, running a measly 45 minutes. Given that Mr. Steiner was the master of excessive scoring (Bette Davis had some pointedly unkind things to say about it), a "sampler" could have filled two CDs, and still not exhausted the music (though the music might exhaust you). As with "OZ", there is short, hard-backed book that's even more superfluous, plus reproductions of some of the watercolor set-design paintings (in their own little envelope), and various memoranda sent to and from David O. Selznick. I was kinda expecting a reproduction of Rhett's pocket watch, but it likely would have been of even poorer quality than the watch in the "OZ" box. The best bonus is a reproduction of the 25-cent (a lot of money in 1939) souvenir booklet. It includes pieces by the principals, notably one from Clark Gable telling how badly he wanted to play Rhett Butler and much he enjoyed every minute of making the film. (He didn't want the part, and got along quite badly with the original director, George Cukor.) As I write this, I have not viewed the supplemental material on the second disk. The third disk duplicates the "When the Lion Roars" feature included in the "OZ" box -- though the package labeling suggests it's unique to GWTW. GWTW always had an unsharp, muddy-looking image -- until the Ultra Resolution transfer of the original three-strip negatives of a few years ago. It was a major improvement, and the DVDs showed the film as it had never been seen. This edition apparently uses a new Ultra Resolution transfer, at twice the resolution (4k versus 2k) of the previous. Some scenes -- such as Ashley escorting Melanie to the balcony of Twin Oaks -- are breathtaking, far superior to what the DVD offered (and that wasn't exactly chopped liver). What most surprised me, though, was the awareness of how -- whether by accident or design -- the film's color balance is adjusted to produce specific effects. Many scenes have an appropriately warm, "burnished" coloration that /does not/ carry over to the scene's subtle colors. For example, at the fund-raising dance, there's a bottle of pastel-colored candies (which you'll probably never notice in the SD edition) that retain their correct colors, "unromantized" by the rest of the image's warmth. Similarly, in the scene outside the hospital where Belle Watling makes a donation, her costume is vividly colored, even though everything else is drab. Several sequences are outstanding, particularly the one where Scarlett leaves the hospital and returns to Aunt Pittypat's home to tend to Melanie. It is a model of Technicolor cinematography, one that any cinematographer would be proud of -- as good as anything being done today. In short... This edition is a major improvement over the outstanding DVD edition. It gives the impression that the movie makers were able to manipulate Technicolor to get specific aesthetic effects, something you don't normally associate with Technicolor. And it shows just how beautifully photographed this film was. The DVD probably captured a lot of this (I no longer have it for comparison), but you'll never see it in standard definition on a "small" screen. The sound is so-so, "flat" and not particularly clean. (Disney does a much better job cleaning up the audio of its classic films.) It would sound better in a theater, with big horn speakers that started rolling off above 5kHz. If GWTW was recorded in RCA multi-track, the stems don't appear to have survived. Music and dialog are strictly mono throughout, but individual sound effects (particulary explosions) are panned to the rear when possible and appropriate. This is an expensive set, but it represents such a significant improvement over the last DVD edition (as good as it was) that it's worth seriously considering. Even if your BD player has a good scaler, the DVD won't look anywhere nearly this good on your HD monitor. Highly recommended.
	Gone with the Wind
	""And you, miss, are no lady!""	2009-11-18
This is a review of the fiddle-dee-dee-luxe Blu-ray edition. As with the "Wizard of OZ" BD set, the GWTW set is elaborated -- and made "spendier" (as a friend of mine used to say) -- with the addition of material that might not be absolutely necessary. The box is covered in red velvet flocking (green would have been funnier -- qv, Carol Burnett). There's a CD "sampler" of Max Steiner's score, running a measly 45 minutes. Given that Mr. Steiner was the master of excessive scoring (Bette Davis had some pointedly unkind things to say about it), a "sampler" could have filled two CDs, and still not exhausted the music (though the music might exhaust you). As with "OZ", there is short, hard-backed book that's even more superfluous, plus reproductions of some of the watercolor set-design paintings (in their own little envelope), and various memoranda sent to and from David O. Selznick. I was kinda expecting a reproduction of Rhett's pocket watch, but it likely would have been of even poorer quality than the watch in the "OZ" box. The best bonus is a reproduction of the 25-cent (a lot of money in 1939) souvenir booklet. It includes pieces by the principals, notably one from Clark Gable telling how badly he wanted to play Rhett Butler and much he enjoyed every minute of making the film. (He didn't want the part, and got along quite badly with the original director, George Cukor.) As I write this, I have not viewed the supplemental material on the second disk. The third disk duplicates the "When the Lion Roars" feature included in the "OZ" box -- though the package labeling suggests it's unique to GWTW. GWTW always had an unsharp, muddy-looking image -- until the Ultra Resolution transfer of the original three-strip negatives of a few years ago. It was a major improvement, and the DVDs showed the film as it had never been seen. This edition apparently uses a new Ultra Resolution transfer, at twice the resolution (4k versus 2k) of the previous. Some scenes -- such as Ashley escorting Melanie to the balcony of Twin Oaks -- are breathtaking, far superior to what the DVD offered (and that wasn't exactly chopped liver). What most surprised me, though, was the awareness of how -- whether by accident or design -- the film's color balance is adjusted to produce specific effects. Many scenes have an appropriately warm, "burnished" coloration that /does not/ carry over to the scene's subtle colors. For example, at the fund-raising dance, there's a bottle of pastel-colored candies (which you'll probably never notice in the SD edition) that retain their correct colors, "unromantized" by the rest of the image's warmth. Similarly, in the scene outside the hospital where Belle Watling makes a donation, her costume is vividly colored, even though everything else is drab. Several sequences are outstanding, particularly the one where Scarlett leaves the hospital and returns to Aunt Pittypat's home to tend to Melanie. It is a model of Technicolor cinematography, one that any cinematographer would be proud of -- as good as anything being done today. In short... This edition is a major improvement over the outstanding DVD edition. It gives the impression that the movie makers were able to manipulate Technicolor to get specific aesthetic effects, something you don't normally associate with Technicolor. And it shows just how beautifully photographed this film was. The DVD probably captured a lot of this (I no longer have it for comparison), but you'll never see it in standard definition on a "small" screen. The sound is so-so, "flat" and not particularly clean. (Disney does a much better job cleaning up the audio of its classic films.) It would sound better in a theater, with big horn speakers that started rolling off above 5kHz. If GWTW was recorded in RCA multi-track, the stems don't appear to have survived. Music and dialog are strictly mono throughout, but individual sound effects (particulary explosions) are panned to the rear when possible and appropriate. This is an expensive set, but it represents such a significant improvement over the last DVD edition (as good as it was) that it's worth seriously considering. Even if your BD player has a good scaler, the DVD won't look anywhere nearly this good on your HD monitor. Highly recommended.
	Gladiator [Blu-ray]
	"Why is everyone complaining about the image quality?"	2009-11-14
I've seen several reviews -- both in magazines and on-line -- excoriating this transfer for its mediocre image quality. I'm not sure what they're talking about. As for sharpness and real detail, this transfer has gobs of it. Richard Harris is a lined and wrinkled geezer, and the close-ups of the women -- well, woman -- plainly reveal that they're (she's) not wearing makeup. My only complaint is that this is the first Blu-ray I've seen with visible edge enhancement. You will occasionally see trailing-edge overshoot. It's not common, but it does occur. Regardless, the BD's image quality quite obliterates the DVD's. Oddly, the CGI looks much more believable in the Blu-ray than it does on the DVD. I've seen this with other films, and have no explanation, other than the extra detail makes the fake stuff more plausible. As for the film... It's "Ben-Hur" redux, without the Christianity. The /overall/ arc of the stories are the same -- a man is unjustly accused of crimes, then has to "prove himself" to the Roman populace. The principal difference is that "Ben-Hur" is a story of revenge in which the principal character eventually discovers how unimportant revenge is, while "Gladiator" is explicitly not about revenge, but about a man's desire to return to what /is/ important to him. Russel Crowe might /think/ he's the world's greatest actor, but he ain't. The otherwise-sharp script portrays him primarily as someone who /doesn't/ want to be where he is. It's hard to act /negative/ attitudes, and he does little except yearn and pine and be noble. Perhaps this is all for the good -- the part is better underplayed. Richard Harris is far more effective -- and memorable -- as Marcus Aurelius. Outside of the fact that the story is a broad fictionalization of real people and events, there are surprisingly few (apparent) errors or anachronisms. Surprisingly, it gets the "thumbs-up/down" gesture wrong. The thumb represents the sword -- "thumbs up" means cut the guy's throat, "thumbs down" means bury the sword in the sand. And when Oliver Reed's character complains that his giraffes won't mate -- "You sold me queer giraffes!" -- it reflects a modern view of sexuality that would have made no sense to Mediterranean people. "Gladiator" is, overall, an very entertaining and well-paced film -- but it's hardly an Oscar contender. It won because, as with many Best Picture winners, it lavishly combines Spectacle and Sentiment. Though almost everyone dies, it's still a Happy Ending. The extras are lavish, including a 3.5 hour (!) feature on the film's making. The first 12 minutes or so of it were transferred with the wrong cadence, and every time something moves, you see scaning-line breakup. There are also at least 100 short segments on various aspects of the film and its production. (I believe all of this appeared in the three-DVD set, but I no longer have it for comparison.)
	Blazing Saddles
	"I'd /like/ to give BS only four stars..."	2009-11-14
...simply for Mel Brooks' heavy-handed and obvious vulgarity, but I'm obliged to give it five, for Madeline Kahn's performance as Lili von Shtupp. Specifically, her rendering of "I'm Tired", a perfect send-up of Marlene Detrich. (One would like to think that Ms. Dietrich fell into convulsive laughter after seeing it.) Brooks says he wrote the song before Kahn was cast, but she sings it as if it were written for her unique talent. Is it a true classic? As with "Young Frankenstein", I don't know. But it is funny, mostly because of its blunt treatment of racism. In this regard, it's a much more honest film than "Crash". The cinematography by Joseph Biroc does little to enhance his excellent reputation. The daylight scenes are flat, almost washed-out. The night scenes, though, are richly colored and jsut plain beautiful. "Blazing Saddles" is one of only two of Brooks films shot in Panavision, and it generally doesn't work. Too many scenes look overly "distant", when a tighter view of the characters would have been more effective. Amazon's attractive price makes the BD a must-have, if only to see Madeline Kahn in a classic performance.
	Gladiator
	"Why is everyone complaining about the image quality?"	2009-11-14
I've seen several reviews -- both in magazines and on-line -- excoriating this transfer for its mediocre image quality. I'm not sure what they're talking about. As for sharpness and real detail, this transfer has gobs of it. Richard Harris is a lined and wrinkled geezer, and the close-ups of the women -- well, woman -- plainly reveal that they're (she's) not wearing makeup. My only complaint is that this is the first Blu-ray I've seen with visible edge enhancement. You will occasionally see trailing-edge overshoot. It's not common, but it does occur. Regardless, the BD's image quality quite obliterates the DVD's. Oddly, the CGI looks much more believable in the Blu-ray than it does on the DVD. I've seen this with other films, and have no explanation, other than the extra detail makes the fake stuff more plausible. As for the film... It's "Ben-Hur" redux, without the Christianity. The /overall/ arc of the stories are the same -- a man is unjustly accused of crimes, then has to "prove himself" to the Roman populace. The principal difference is that "Ben-Hur" is a story of revenge in which the principal character eventually discovers how unimportant revenge is, while "Gladiator" is explicitly not about revenge, but about a man's desire to return to what /is/ important to him. Russel Crowe might /think/ he's the world's greatest actor, but he ain't. The otherwise-sharp script portrays him primarily as someone who /doesn't/ want to be where he is. It's hard to act /negative/ attitudes, and he does little except yearn and pine and be noble. Perhaps this is all for the good -- the part is better underplayed. Richard Harris is far more effective -- and memorable -- as Marcus Aurelius. Outside of the fact that the story is a broad fictionalization of real people and events, there are surprisingly few (apparent) errors or anachronisms. Surprisingly, it gets the "thumbs-up/down" gesture wrong. The thumb represents the sword -- "thumbs up" means cut the guy's throat, "thumbs down" means bury the sword in the sand. And when Oliver Reed's character complains that his giraffes won't mate -- "You sold me queer giraffes!" -- it reflects a modern view of sexuality that would have made no sense to Mediterranean people. "Gladiator" is, overall, an very entertaining and well-paced film -- but it's hardly an Oscar contender. It won because, as with many Best Picture winners, it lavishly combines Spectacle and Sentiment. Though almost everyone dies, it's still a Happy Ending. The extras are lavish, including a 3.5 hour (!) feature on the film's making. The first 12 minutes or so of it were transferred with the wrong cadence, and every time something moves, you see scaning-line breakup. There are also at least 100 short segments on various aspects of the film and its production. (I believe all of this appeared in the three-DVD set, but I no longer have it for comparison.)
	Mongol: The Rise of Genghis Khan (+ Digital Copy) [Blu-ray]
	"The Rise of Khan"	2009-11-02
Despite scenes of gross, grisly gouging (heads smashed, sharpened objects poked into and through people, and almost as much digital blood flying as in "300"), this is actually a rather charming and affecting film. Really. The focus is on the people and their relationships, with the battles secondary. (But don't worry -- if you like seeing humans converted to hamburger, you won't be disappointed.) The producers know what sells -- the actor playing Temudgin is Jeff-Bridges cute, and the actress playing Borte (his bride) is beautiful, without looking as if she just steppe-d (ar, ar) off the runway. But this is no Hollywood biopic (qv, "The Conqueror"). Both the acting and direction are understated, and there are only a few Scenes Of Great Portent. Some questions are left unanswered -- such as how the wolf releases Temudgin's slave shackles and how he repeatedly escapes from his captors. But the story of Ghengis Khan is as much legend as fact, so it's not /that/ important. The film ends as Temudgin is made khan of all the Mongols, leaving room for a sequel. ("The Wrath of Khan"?) The cinematography is outstanding, with lots of wide shots of magnificent landscapes, dotted with tiny human figures. However, in some scenes the highlights are flat and burned out. This seemed more like a technical or transfer problem, than a deliberate aesthetic choice by the director. It detracts only slightly. This Blu-ray disk is so inexpensive, it's virtually an impulse purchase. Give in.
	Enchanted [Blu-ray]
	"not /quite/ so charming as one might like"	2009-11-02
This is a terrifically entertaining -- and clever -- film, and I wholeheartedly recommend it. But... If I might get serious... Leonard Bernstein once said that no composer consciously sets out to write "insincere" music. "Enchanted" is a conscious parody of Disney style and content that, at the same time, tries to remain sincere. But parody is inherently un-sincere. It's difficult to spoof something while treating it ingenuously. The two work against each other. This is most apparent in the film's best sequence -- the "Happy Little Working Song", which skewers "Whistle While You Work". The former brutally satirizes what is implicit in the latter -- dirty animals are cleaning up the place, including the dishes! Stephen Schwartz couldn't resist having Giselle acknowledge that they rats, roaches, and pigeons are "vermin", or having her sing: "We'll keep singing without fail, otherwise we'd spoil it, Hosing down the garbage pail and scrubbing up the toilet.", something the "real", naive Giselle would never sing. But this is a spoof, so why not? The sequence ends with a slap at "Disney cute" -- one of the pigeons eats one of the cockroaches. If we hadn't caught on that the film was a take-off, we know now. The problem is that there's no easy way to balance sincerity and spoof. It's not unlike making a comic horror film. James Whale did it -- once -- and no one else has duplicated it, not even Sam Raimi. "Enchanted"'s script and direction lean on the sincere side, without going overboard on the send-up. But the result isn't sincere enough to draw any strong emotion, while the parody lacks "edge" -- except in the scene mentioned. There's no way this obviously tongue-in-cheek tone could have been continued throughout the rest of the film without -- well, spoiling it. It would be unfair -- and insincere -- to ask Bill Kelly (the writer) and Kevin Lima (the director) to achieve what is virtually impossible. So I won't. Just enjoy "Enchanted" for what it is -- a Disney self-parody that's been a long time coming. Parents should be aware that the PG rating includes "mild innuendo" -- /sexual/ innuendo, both straight and gay. It will probably go right over most toddlers' heads, but don't be surprised if you get the odd question or two. ("Mommy, why is that man smiling at the prince?") This BD is typical of Disney, which is to say, gorgeous. Other than a game and some bloopers, there's nothing on the BD that wasn't on the DVD. But the animation, costumes, sets, and effects benefit greatly from high definition.
	Casio Men's Ana-Digi Edifice Bracelet Watch #EFA119BK-1AV
	"Lots of great features, but..."	2009-10-30
The face is not only cluttered, but the digital elements (which are light-against-dark) are hard to read except in bright light. Perhaps the worst part of this watch is the band. Instead of using easily removed spring-loaded pins (I forget the correct name) to adjust the bracelet length, a cheaper system using pull-out bars -- which is very difficult for a consumer to easily adjust -- has been substituted. This sort of band seems increasingly common on watches. It's a good-enough reason not to buy any watch with one.
	Angels in America
	"simply a terrific piece of writing, acting, and directing"	2009-10-30
Amazing as it might seem, I had seen neither the play (it premiered in Seattle) nor the movie, which I'd bought, then put aside unviewed (like so many other things). It was only Wednesday night when I popped it into the player and was knocked for a loop. (I can't think of a less-trite expression.) It is, first and formost, a brutal, testicle-kicking attack on post-Reagan "conservatism". It's fortunate that Roy Cohn -- one of the most-vicious American politicians of the last century, and a homosexual who died of AIDS -- actually existed, so that Tony Kushner did not have to invent him. He is a convenient personification of everything the author (and I) detest in American society. I am at a loss to say anything "intelligent" (or even original) about a movie in which every character is deeply flawed, a film that is sufficiently complex (and ambiguous, where appropriate) that it cannot reveal everything in a single viewing. "Angels in America" is worth seeing simply for the quality of writing, acting, and direction. (The special effects ain't bad, either.) If I have any complaints, it's that theatrical metaphor -- which is acceptable within a stage work's lack of literal reality -- can seem a bit heavy-handed in a film, which appears to be literally real. It's a mistake to view "Angels in America" solely as a chronicle of how AIDS devastated the gay community. Yes, it's also a polemic, but Kushner gets away with it by remembering that you cannot tell a story about ideas, you can only tell a story about people. Like any Great Work Of Art (and it is one), it is, fundamentally, about how human beings cope with life. It's one of the best motion pictures I've ever seen, and I cannot recommend it too highly.
	Young Frankenstein [Blu-ray]
	"questions about the BD transfer..."	2009-10-25
I rarely comment on the quality of Blu-ray transfers, as they're generally excellent. This one has me wondering. Not only is it grainy, but it doesn't /look like/ a B&W film. (A good one, anyway.) The highlights look as if they're approaching "burnout", while the black areas aren't really black. And though there are plenty of midrange tones, there's no pleasing gradation gradation between light and dark. "Ma and Pa Kettle" was better-photographed. Worst of all, the image has a yellowish cast, as if my display's color temperature was set too low. But it's a Pioneer Kuro, and they're generally close. Besides, I haven't seen this cast on other B&W films. So I suspected the problems with "tonal gradation" were due the film had been shot in color, and printed in B&W. However... the supplemental materials say the film was shot on B&W stock (AGFA was named, but they likely meant Ilford), and that a well-known cinematographer was hired to provide the kind of classic B&W look Mel Brooks wanted. And guess what -- that's what the scenes in the supplemental material look like! They do not have a color cast, and they have the beautiful gradation of a classic B&W film. Lovely. Who knows. Fox doesn't have a customer-relations department, so there's no one to ask. The picture is otherwise good, so if you want this disk, you might as well buy it. I will keep trying to find out. As for the film itself... I feel about "Young Frankenstein" much as I feel about "Superman II". The good things in these films are offset by poor directorial decisions. In the case of S2, during the big "blow-out" between Superman and the villains, Richard Lester inserts comic moments (of such things as ice cream flying in a man's face, or a person being dragged off by a torn-away pay phone) that are not only unnecessary, but distort the film's tone. As for Mel Brooks, he never heard a crude or vulgar joke he didn't like, * and if he thinks the audience might not "get" a joke, he shoves it in its collective face, sometimes repeatedly. Much of Brooks' humor is not only "obvious", but he /misses/ the obvious, as well -- why doesn't the film start in color, and switch to B&W when we arrive in Transylvania? By the way, the "Transylvania station" joke is retained. TV cuts often omit it, because it offends some people. Most people consider "Young Frankenstein" a classic. Perhaps it is, and I'm being overly critical, but I tend to see this glass as half-empty, not half-full. The one thing that is unquestionably classic is Madeline Kahn's performance. It goes beyond perfection, if such a thing were possible. Parents should be aware that, despite the PG rating, "Young Frankenstein" has a fair of amount of crude/vulgar humor and worse, an on-screen rape only /slightly/ less graphic than the one in "Brokeback Mountain". The PG-13 rating would be appropriate, but it didn't exist in 1974. * The issue isn't crude humor, per se, but the quality thereof. "South Park" and "The Venture Bros." are much better at it, mostly because they go for the jugular.
	The Adventures of Ma & Pa Kettle - Volume 2
	"better than the first box..."	2009-10-11
Movie series/sequels almost always go down hill (the "Thin Man" movies are perhaps the best example, with Universal's various horror series displaying the same decline). The "Ma and Pa Kettle" series don't, mostly because they weren't particularly inspired to begin with. Oddly, the second volume has the two best films of the series, "At the Fair" and "At Home". Rather than getting the Kettles involved with gangsters or spies, they focus on the Kettles' community, and their interactions with their neighbors. "Fair" has Ma trying to win the bread and jam competitions, but accidentally entering the jam in the horse race, while Pa is arrested for doping the horses with concrete bread. (Don't ask. But it's almost plausible. Almost.) It's fairly funny, and ends a lot like "Cars". (Really.) "Home" has their second-oldest son competing for a college scholarship, * with the wonderful Alan Mowbray ** as a stuffy competition judge. He's the perfect foil for the Kettles, and delivers the same enthusiastic performance as Marjorie Main. Note also Richard Eyer as one of their sons, and Mary Wickes as a librarian. "At Waikiki" isn't too bad, with Pa taking over his rich cousin's position as head of a Hawaiian fruit company. The ending is semi-clever, so I won't spoil it for you. If all the films in this series were of this (relative) quality, it could be recommended with some enthusiasm. But the writers too-often fall back on the obvious, the trite, and the worn-out, rather than developing stories where the focus is on the Kettles and their neighbors, rather than some preposterous situation. PS: Apologies for not mentioning Percy Kilbride's excellent performance as Pa. He reduces indolence to a science. One can believe he's never worked a day in his life. * The need for higher education is a running theme throughout these films. It's probably sincere, but it also serves as a convenient plot device to force the Kettles to find a way raise money. ** The young'uns won't recognize his name. See Wikipedia or IMDB.
	The Adventures of Ma & Pa Kettle - Volume 1
	"not much better than a mediocre sitcom"	2009-10-10
Betty MacDonald's poular novel "The Egg and I" became a popular film that introduced Ma & Pa Kettle and their brood of 15 (or is it 16?) children. Like the dwarfs in "Snow White", they were an instant hit, and Universal exploited that popularity in nine more films. (The last two are not included in this series.) The image quality is exceptional. The DVDs appear to have mastered from immaculate negatives. One doesn't care that these films aren't in color, simply because they look so good in B&W. The sound is also remarkable -- clear, crisp, and noise-free. It's unfortunate that many better films have not been so well-preserved. Let's be honest. These are unabashedly G-rated movies you can show the kids without fear. But they're only intermittently funny. The writers can't think of much beyond putting the Kettles in outlandish situations, then failing to play off the Kettles' common sense and good natures against sophisticated "city folk". The best reason for watching these movies is Marjorie Main. She throws herself into the role of Ma Kettle 115% (or is it 116%?), going well beyond what such thin material requires. (One might argue that such thin material /requires/ good perfomances to come off.) And her voice, capable of cracking cast iron, is always fun to hear. (June Foray has at least two Main-like voices.) Similarly, Richard Long, who later had a successful TV career, brings a sense of conviction to the role of the Kettles' eldest son. And you'll have fun looking for well-known character actors, such as Ray Collins. A really clever writer might have done something really clever with these characters. But these films were "programmers", bottom billing on a double feature, and you don't assign your best writers to them. Your youngest kids will probably enjoy them, but there's little of lasting interest in them for adults. Recommended, but only tepidly.
	The Virginian
	"the cow-boy as god -- and sex-god"	2009-10-03
This review is based on the Penguin edition, which includes an excellent introduction by John Seelye, plus the deleted "Hank's Woman" episode and footnotes explaining archaic language. My comments might offend some readers. When reading a novel, do you mentally cast the movie version? In appearance, speech, and manner, Randolph Scott * or a young Sam Elliott are obvious choices for The Virginian. But Cary Grant (!!!) also crossed my mind, and this observation from the 7/31/2009 "New York Times" offers confirmation: "Watching [Grant] is to be reminded of a time when intelligence, grace and self-containment were their own rewards." Intelligence, grace, and self-containment are major consituents of the Virginian's personality and character, and major reasons for the continued popularity of this novel. But they are not the whole story. "The Virginian" was the first modern "Western" novel -- the ur-bach (primal stream), in fact -- which set the standard, not only for the plotting of such works, but for the way we view cowboys -- the "strong, silent" type, the stranger of impeccable character who wanders into town, cleans things up, and then -- depending on the writer's taste -- either wanders off into the sunset ("Who /was/ that masked man?") or marries the schoolmarm. This characterization and plot have become so clichéd that one might expect "The Virginian" to be not only a bad novel, but a shallow one. It is neither. Unlikely as it might seem, it's about the morality of violence, and the nature of male sexuality. People commonly misread "The Virginian" as a paean to the "fundamental decency" of the cowboy, even going so far as to project "Christian" virtues on their behavior, but this is more a creation of Hollywood and cheap novels, than any reflection of reality. The Virginian is relatively restrained in his behavior, compared to the average cow-boy, but he's no church-goin' Boy Scout, not by a long shot. The unnamed hero appears to be based on a guide, George West, whom Owen Wister was likely infatuated with. There's no question that the narrator is sexually attracted to The Virginian from the first, and bluntly praises his animal good looks: "For he now climbed down with the undulations of a tiger, smooth and easy, as if his muscles flowed beneath his skin." And later: "[he] looked at [Mollie] with such a smile, that, had I been a woman, it would have made me his to do what he pleased..." Though people a century ago might have interpreted Wister's praise of The Virginian's catlike body as amusing asexual hyperbole, it seems hard to believe the author's willingness to -- shall we say -- be mounted by another man went by without notice. But it did. Though The Virginian intends to settle down when the right woman comes along, he has no intention of remaining celibate beforehand. He has a one-night stand with the blond "biscuit cutter" at the restaurant (which, we are told, she thoroughly enjoyed), and explains to the author (in the deleted "Hank's Woman" episode) that he (and most men he knows) aren't sexually attracted to "good" women. And he sings dirty songs (one of which has 79 unprintable verses). Wister says The Virginian talked with him about sex uninhibitedly: "...he fell into the elemental talk of sex, such talk as would be an elk's or tiger's; and spoken so by him, simply and naturally, as we speak of the seasons, or of death, of of any actuality, it was without offence. But it would be offence should I repeat it." Perhaps most significantly, The Virginian talks of having "sprees" with his friend Steve, and that they "most always hunted in couples back in them gamesome years", implying that they sometimes shared the same women. This can be interpreted as an indirect form of same-sex intercourse. The schoolmarm's (Mollie Wood's) reaction to The Virginian is hardly less physical than the author's. "She did not dare to trust herself face to face again with her potent, indomitable lover." And her relatives are least as much attracted to his studly good looks: "Is the fellow as handsome as that, my dear?" her aunt asks, and later muses "She is like us all. She wants a man that is a man." Though she is concerned with his character, sex is not far from her mind. The Virginian's ethics include the principle that "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do", and its complement, that every man has to work out his own problems. If you don't, you're not a man, and one does not come to the assistance of another man except under extreme circumstances. And a real man is obliged to set a high standard for others to emulate. The Virginian is violent only when there's no other choice. He's quick-witted, with a dry sense of humor, able to resolve (or postpone) most conflicts (including personal insults) with the right choice of words. It takes a novel's worth of Trampas's insults and worse nastiness before The Virginian is finally forced to shoot him down, when Trampas challenges him to a gunfight the quiet Easterner can't back out of. This bothers him, because, though the world is better off without Trampas, * there should have been no need for him to have killed the man. That it was wholly Trampas's fault is not much justification -- or excuse. But The Virginian's deepest moral dilemma occurs when learns that his best buddy, Steve, has been rustling cattle for some time. **** The Virginian feels that Steve should be hung, pronto, without a trial, especially as Steve betrayed his best friend's trust. But he agonizes over it, wondering, in particular, whether he'd failed to help Steve overcome temptation. And though the school marm says she'll leave him if he does it, he nevertheless strings up Steve. (The hanging of Jake Spoon in "Lonesome Dove" is obviously inspired by this part of the story.) The Virginian's reaction to what seems the unavoidable need to put a man to death is believable. Up to this point, we've seen that he is a restrained, intelligent, thoughtful person who rarely does anything on impulse (the "child-swapping" episode being the principal exception), and that he is deeply concerned with what is right and what is wrong. So when he goes into an agony over killing Steve (though a restrained, cowpoke sort of agony), we agonize with him. The Virginian's mixture of the Dyonisian (animal grace, love of sex, intense association with the natural world) and the Apollonian (intellect, self-awareness, rationality) is likely intentional. He is portrayed as an ideal, quasi-godlike human male -- though fundamentally pagan/Classical, not Christian. In one famous episode, he maliciously humiliates a pompous, self-righteous minister. There are other significant characters besides the ones mentioned. Shorty is a kind-hearted but naïve cowpoke who also comes to a terrible end. It's worth noting that, though The Virginian vigorously encourages Shorty to "do the right thing", he does not "intervene" (as a protective parent might) to physically stop him from associating with bad people. Shorty is left to make his own choices, even though they lead to his destruction. And then there's the rancher Mr. Balaam, a monster in human form. What he does to Shorty's beloved horse goes beyond anything you might read in a horror novel. It's not for the squeamish. If I have any complaint about "The Virginian", it's that it's sometimes a hard read. Wister was a good writer (no J F Cooper, he), but his prose is occasionally dense or complex. This isn't helped by his (apparently) accurate rendition of the way Western folk spoke circa 1875. Some passages (such as the famous one about "moistness") verge on the incomprehensible -- Wister is /not/ an omniscient narrator who explains what each character is thinking, or why he acts the way he does. Given the remoteness of the era (in both time and space), there is a loss of context that would help the reader better understand what's going on. Regardless, if you like Westerns, "The Virginian" is a must-read. Even if you don't, "The Virginian" is a significant cultural milestone, and is worth reading for that reason alone. * Randolph Scott was of the same "Virginia elite" as The Virginian. He was born to play the part. Stan Freberg adroitly skewers the stereotype in "Bang Gunnleigh, US Marshal Field". * For those who have seen only the TV series, which bears almost no relation to the novel, Trampas ain't Doug McClure. Not no way, not no how. **** We see almost nothing of Steve. This is mostly because the story is told mostly from Wister's perspective, and The Virginian is rarely with Wister and Steve at the same time. One wonders whether Wister was sexually jealous of their friendship. (!!!)
	Virginian
	"the cow-boy as god -- and sex-god"	2009-10-03
This review is based on the Penguin edition, which includes an excellent introduction by John Seelye, plus the deleted "Hank's Woman" episode and footnotes explaining archaic language. My comments might offend some readers. When reading a novel, do you mentally cast the movie version? In appearance, speech, and manner, Randolph Scott * or a young Sam Elliott are obvious choices for The Virginian. But Cary Grant (!!!) also crossed my mind, and this observation from the 7/31/2009 "New York Times" offers confirmation: "Watching [Grant] is to be reminded of a time when intelligence, grace and self-containment were their own rewards." Intelligence, grace, and self-containment are major consituents of the Virginian's personality and character, and major reasons for the continued popularity of this novel. But they are not the whole story. "The Virginian" was the first modern "Western" novel -- the ur-bach (primal stream), in fact -- which set the standard, not only for the plotting of such works, but for the way we view cowboys -- the "strong, silent" type, the stranger of impeccable character who wanders into town, cleans things up, and then -- depending on the writer's taste -- either wanders off into the sunset ("Who /was/ that masked man?") or marries the schoolmarm. This characterization and plot have become so clichéd that one might expect "The Virginian" to be not only a bad novel, but a shallow one. It is neither. Unlikely as it might seem, it's about the morality of violence, and the nature of male sexuality. People commonly misread "The Virginian" as a paean to the "fundamental decency" of the cowboy, even going so far as to project "Christian" virtues on their behavior, but this is more a creation of Hollywood and cheap novels, than any reflection of reality. The Virginian is relatively restrained in his behavior, compared to the average cow-boy, but he's no church-goin' Boy Scout, not by a long shot. The unnamed hero appears to be based on a guide, George West, whom Owen Wister was likely infatuated with. There's no question that the narrator is sexually attracted to The Virginian from the first, and bluntly praises his animal good looks: "For he now climbed down with the undulations of a tiger, smooth and easy, as if his muscles flowed beneath his skin." And later: "[he] looked at [Mollie] with such a smile, that, had I been a woman, it would have made me his to do what he pleased..." Though people a century ago might have interpreted Wister's praise of The Virginian's catlike body as amusing asexual hyperbole, it seems hard to believe the author's willingness to -- shall we say -- be mounted by another man went by without notice. But it did. Though The Virginian intends to settle down when the right woman comes along, he has no intention of remaining celibate beforehand. He has a one-night stand with the blond "biscuit cutter" at the restaurant (which, we are told, she thoroughly enjoyed), and explains to the author (in the deleted "Hank's Woman" episode) that he (and most men he knows) aren't sexually attracted to "good" women. And he sings dirty songs (one of which has 79 unprintable verses). Wister says The Virginian talked with him about sex uninhibitedly: "...he fell into the elemental talk of sex, such talk as would be an elk's or tiger's; and spoken so by him, simply and naturally, as we speak of the seasons, or of death, of of any actuality, it was without offence. But it would be offence should I repeat it." Perhaps most significantly, The Virginian talks of having "sprees" with his friend Steve, and that they "most always hunted in couples back in them gamesome years", implying that they sometimes shared the same women. This can be interpreted as an indirect form of same-sex intercourse. The schoolmarm's (Mollie Wood's) reaction to The Virginian is hardly less physical than the author's. "She did not dare to trust herself face to face again with her potent, indomitable lover." And her relatives are least as much attracted to his studly good looks: "Is the fellow as handsome as that, my dear?" her aunt asks, and later muses "She is like us all. She wants a man that is a man." Though she is concerned with his character, sex is not far from her mind. The Virginian's ethics include the principle that "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do", and its complement, that every man has to work out his own problems. If you don't, you're not a man, and one does not come to the assistance of another man except under extreme circumstances. And a real man is obliged to set a high standard for others to emulate. The Virginian is violent only when there's no other choice. He's quick-witted, with a dry sense of humor, able to resolve (or postpone) most conflicts (including personal insults) with the right choice of words. It takes a novel's worth of Trampas's insults and worse nastiness before The Virginian is finally forced to shoot him down, when Trampas challenges him to a gunfight the quiet Easterner can't back out of. This bothers him, because, though the world is better off without Trampas, * there should have been no need for him to have killed the man. That it was wholly Trampas's fault is not much justification -- or excuse. But The Virginian's deepest moral dilemma occurs when learns that his best buddy, Steve, has been rustling cattle for some time. **** The Virginian feels that Steve should be hung, pronto, without a trial, especially as Steve betrayed his best friend's trust. But he agonizes over it, wondering, in particular, whether he'd failed to help Steve overcome temptation. And though the school marm says she'll leave him if he does it, he nevertheless strings up Steve. (The hanging of Jake Spoon in "Lonesome Dove" is obviously inspired by this part of the story.) The Virginian's reaction to what seems the unavoidable need to put a man to death is believable. Up to this point, we've seen that he is a restrained, intelligent, thoughtful person who rarely does anything on impulse (the "child-swapping" episode being the principal exception), and that he is deeply concerned with what is right and what is wrong. So when he goes into an agony over killing Steve (though a restrained, cowpoke sort of agony), we agonize with him. The Virginian's mixture of the Dyonisian (animal grace, love of sex, intense association with the natural world) and the Apollonian (intellect, self-awareness, rationality) is likely intentional. He is portrayed as an ideal, quasi-godlike human male -- though fundamentally pagan/Classical, not Christian. In one famous episode, he maliciously humiliates a pompous, self-righteous minister. There are other significant characters besides the ones mentioned. Shorty is a kind-hearted but naïve cowpoke who also comes to a terrible end. It's worth noting that, though The Virginian vigorously encourages Shorty to "do the right thing", he does not "intervene" (as a protective parent might) to physically stop him from associating with bad people. Shorty is left to make his own choices, even though they lead to his destruction. And then there's the rancher Mr. Balaam, a monster in human form. What he does to Shorty's beloved horse goes beyond anything you might read in a horror novel. It's not for the squeamish. If I have any complaint about "The Virginian", it's that it's sometimes a hard read. Wister was a good writer (no J F Cooper, he), but his prose is occasionally dense or complex. This isn't helped by his (apparently) accurate rendition of the way Western folk spoke circa 1875. Some passages (such as the famous one about "moistness") verge on the incomprehensible -- Wister is /not/ an omniscient narrator who explains what each character is thinking, or why he acts the way he does. Given the remoteness of the era (in both time and space), there is a loss of context that would help the reader better understand what's going on. Regardless, if you like Westerns, "The Virginian" is a must-read. Even if you don't, "The Virginian" is a significant cultural milestone, and is worth reading for that reason alone. * Randolph Scott was of the same "Virginia elite" as The Virginian. He was born to play the part. Stan Freberg adroitly skewers the stereotype in "Bang Gunnleigh, US Marshal Field". * For those who have seen only the TV series, which bears almost no relation to the novel, Trampas ain't Doug McClure. Not no way, not no how. **** We see almost nothing of Steve. This is mostly because the story is told mostly from Wister's perspective, and The Virginian is rarely with Wister and Steve at the same time. One wonders whether Wister was sexually jealous of their friendship. (!!!)
	Lonesome Dove
	"A classic finally gets its due on Blu-ray"	2009-09-11
This is principally a review of the Blu-ray Disk. There is little to say about the film that hasn't already been said. It's a classic -- not just a great Western, but a great movie, one of those very rare films that perfectly captures the tone of the book it's derived from. (The book was originally a screenplay for Jimmy Stewart, Henry Fonda, and John Wayne. That's another story.) But I /will/ say a few things. Though Robert Duvall's performance has been universally lauded -- he utterly nails Gus -- not enough has been said for Tommy Lee Jones', which is arguably even better than Duvall's. Woodrow F. Call is a loyal, hard-working, but dismally dull human being, highly asocial and devoid of (and largely incapable of understanding) basic human feelings. This is fairly clear in the novel, and made all-too-clear in the two (quite unnecessary) prequels. When Maggie throws hot corn meal in his face, you're glad she did. What's amazing about Jones' performance is his ability to bring complexity (and even some warmth) to what is essentially a "dishwater" character, while not losing Call's fundamental cluelessness. This is particularly notable in the scene where Po Campo explains why he doesn't ride animals: "You are an animal. Would you like another animal riding you?" Jones portrays Call's utter inability to see things from any point of view other than his own shallow, parochical perspective, in an amazing piece of facial acting. Ditto for the scene where he gives Newt his father's watch. * The expression on his face is indescribable, as is his inability to articulate his feelings. And then there is Gus's death scene, as great a piece of acting (from both men) as you'll ever see anywhere. It never fails to reduce me to tears. As fine an actor as TLJ is, I've yet to see a performance from him to equal this one. Though the mini-series was shown in prime-time on CBS, I should warn parents that "Lonesome Dove" includes "adult" subject matter that is treated bluntly, and there are a few scenes of appalling violence. It is not suitable for pre-teens. As for the BD transfer... Until now, "Lonesome Dove" has never looked very good. It wasn't particularly impressive in its original broadcast, and neither the LaserDisk nor the DVD did much to improve it. The image was so soft and grainy I suspected the film was shot on 16mm -- which made no sense. Why? Because it would most-likely have been shot in widescreen on 35mm stock, in anticipation of producing a shorter theatrical version for European distribution. It turns out that "Lonesome Dove" /was/ shot in 35mm widescreen (1.85:1), and that's what's on this disk. The difference is a revelation, an extremely sharp image with gobs of beautiful (but not exaggerated) detail. I'd give the image quality a solid B+. (If there weren't even better BDs out there, it would get an A-.) You will not be disappointed. The cinematography is outstanding. Not only are scenes shot at the appropriate time of day (a rarity for any film), but the lighting is perfectly balanced. For example, indoor shots look as if they're lit by indoor (or window) lighting, but the outside (as seen through windows and doors) is /not/ "blown out". That's not easy to do, especially in a long film with a short shooting schedule. My only complaint about the transfer is that some of the night scenes (indoor and outdoor) are extremely grainy (probably because they were underexposed, due to an obvious attempt to use only lanterns, desk lamps, etc), and nothing appears to have been done to reduce the grain. Worse, some of the outdoor night shots show white horizontal streaks, as if the negative had been damaged. Most of this could have been fixed, but it wasn't. A wonderful film that you can now see as it was meant to be seen. Unreservedly recommended. * Call is so asocial, even to the point of being somewhat feral, that one wonders how he could ever have /had/ a father.
	Lonesome Dove
	"A classic finally gets its due on Blu-ray"	2009-09-11
This is principally a review of the Blu-ray Disk. There is little to say about the film that hasn't already been said. It's a classic -- not just a great Western, but a great movie, one of those very rare films that perfectly captures the tone of the book it's derived from. (The book was originally a screenplay for Jimmy Stewart, Henry Fonda, and John Wayne. That's another story.) But I /will/ say a few things. Though Robert Duvall's performance has been universally lauded -- he utterly nails Gus -- not enough has been said for Tommy Lee Jones', which is arguably even better than Duvall's. Woodrow F. Call is a loyal, hard-working, but dismally dull human being, highly asocial and devoid of (and largely incapable of understanding) basic human feelings. This is fairly clear in the novel, and made all-too-clear in the two (quite unnecessary) prequels. When Maggie throws hot corn meal in his face, you're glad she did. What's amazing about Jones' performance is his ability to bring complexity (and even some warmth) to what is essentially a "dishwater" character, while not losing Call's fundamental cluelessness. This is particularly notable in the scene where Po Campo explains why he doesn't ride animals: "You are an animal. Would you like another animal riding you?" Jones portrays Call's utter inability to see things from any point of view other than his own shallow, parochical perspective, in an amazing piece of facial acting. Ditto for the scene where he gives Newt his father's watch. * The expression on his face is indescribable, as is his inability to articulate his feelings. And then there is Gus's death scene, as great a piece of acting (from both men) as you'll ever see anywhere. It never fails to reduce me to tears. As fine an actor as TLJ is, I've yet to see a performance from him to equal this one. Though the mini-series was shown in prime-time on CBS, I should warn parents that "Lonesome Dove" includes "adult" subject matter that is treated bluntly, and there are a few scenes of appalling violence. It is not suitable for pre-teens. As for the BD transfer... Until now, "Lonesome Dove" has never looked very good. It wasn't particularly impressive in its original broadcast, and neither the LaserDisk nor the DVD did much to improve it. The image was so soft and grainy I suspected the film was shot on 16mm -- which made no sense. Why? Because it would most-likely have been shot in widescreen on 35mm stock, in anticipation of producing a shorter theatrical version for European distribution. It turns out that "Lonesome Dove" /was/ shot in 35mm widescreen (1.85:1), and that's what's on this disk. The difference is a revelation, an extremely sharp image with gobs of beautiful (but not exaggerated) detail. I'd give the image quality a solid B+. (If there weren't even better BDs out there, it would get an A-.) You will not be disappointed. The cinematography is outstanding. Not only are scenes shot at the appropriate time of day (a rarity for any film), but the lighting is perfectly balanced. For example, indoor shots look as if they're lit by indoor (or window) lighting, but the outside (as seen through windows and doors) is /not/ "blown out". That's not easy to do, especially in a long film with a short shooting schedule. My only complaint about the transfer is that some of the night scenes (indoor and outdoor) are extremely grainy (probably because they were underexposed, due to an obvious attempt to use only lanterns, desk lamps, etc), and nothing appears to have been done to reduce the grain. Worse, some of the outdoor night shots show white horizontal streaks, as if the negative had been damaged. Most of this could have been fixed, but it wasn't. A wonderful film that you can now see as it was meant to be seen. Unreservedly recommended. * Call is so asocial, even to the point of being somewhat feral, that one wonders how he could ever have /had/ a father.
	The Man Who Fell to Earth
	"My Favorite Martian"	2009-09-06
This is not only a review of the novel, but a follow-up to my review of the film (qv). Anyone attempting to adapt "The Man Who Fell to Earth" has two problems. One is that our understanding of the story depends almost wholly on knowing what's going on in Newton's mind. This isn't easy in a film, but other directors have done it, without having to resort to voice-over narration. And Tevis conveniently provides a scene near the end where Newton explains things to a Terran friend. * The other problem is that Newton is tall and very thin, having evolved on a planet with a 1/3 of Earth's gravity. A critical turning point in the story occurs when a jerking elevator causes him to break a leg. This wouldn't be plausible with a Terran actor, even one of very slight build. Roeg's "solution" to these problems seems to have been casting David Bowie. His naturally odd appearance (he somewhat resembles the novel's Newton) is, I guess, supposed to suggest that something odd is going on in his mind. Roeg apparently thought that was enough. Unlike the film, there is little ambiguous about the book. We know in the first few pages how beautiful Newton finds Earth, compared to the dry dustiness of his home world, Anthea. * Despite his longing to be with his Anthean family and friends, he is aware of the Earth's seductive beauty (especially the abundant water -- he brags, in an understated way, about owning the lake near his house), and worries that he might become overly attached. In the novel, Newton's "descent" is neither as extreme nor vulgarly excessive as Roeg portrays it. Though he starts drinking after his leg is broken, alcohol does not have the intense effect on him that it has on Terrans. It's more of a sedative that dulls his sense of loneliness and -- uh -- alienation. Nor does he become sexually involved with women, or search for sensual pleasures. He was never strongly "connected" with the Earth, and gradually becomes increasingly disconnected. Roeg apparently thought audiences wouldn't be happy with an introspective story lacking sex and violence, so he throws these things in, including the pointless murder of the president of Newton's company, and changing Newton's 40-year-old housekeeper to a twenty-something. He also drastically alters the point of Newton's visit, which is to build a shuttlecraft to ferry the 300 remaining Antheans to Earth -- not to obtain water. In short... Roeg trashed up a perfectly good novel. It's yet another example of how directors butcher books to suit their own tastes. Walter Tevis is merely a "good" writer, not a great one, but the book's conceit is so pregnant, and as Tevis generally lets it speak for itself, the story gains a dark charm, rather than being merely an ideological exposition. Highly recommended, especially if you've seen the terrible film. * I note with pleasure that Tevis repeatedly refers to Newton as human. He is, of course, just as Klingons and Vulcans are. Tall (Newton is 6'4"), very thin people are uncommon, and unheard-of among actors. Compared to Newton, Jimmy Stewart is Hulk Hogan. Even Guy Pearce is too fleshy. * Though Tevis never directly states it, Newton's home world of Anthea is Mars. Anthea is obviously (???) an anagram of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom.
	King Kong (HD-DVD)
	"more is less... much less"	2009-08-29
It seems self-evident that any work of art is a product of its time. It also seems self-evident that there's no point in remaking a movie unless there was something wrong with the original, or you've found a new way to approach the material. (David Lynch's rework of "The Fly" meets both critieria very well. Ditto for "The Thing" which is not so much a remake as a "make".) The problem with Peter Jackson's "King Kong" redo is that there's no way to improve on one of the greatest films ever made. To see the original "King Kong" as a technologically dated exercise that would have been "so much better" if only it had been made 70 years later, is to miss the way that the medium and the message * were inextricably linked in 1932. For example... The scene in which we hear the unseen Kong tramping through the trees to Max Steiner's music, suddenly appearing in front of the screaming Ann, scares the s* out of children (and not a few adults). It's one of the great cinematic moments, its effectiveness deriving from its in-your-face crudity. (No offense to Willis O'Brien or the Delgado brothers -- quite the opposite.) The original Kong wasn't a giant gorilla, but a horrifying id-monster portrayed by a frighteningly ugly stop-motion puppet. In converting Kong into a realistic animal, Jackson has, at a single stroke, discarded the horrific and dream-like/nightmare elements that made the original a classic. Realism is not fundamentally frightening or horrific. If you don't understand this, watch "Nosferatu" or "Vampyr". This realism, in turn, greatly weakens the original's "beauty and the beast" conceit. Ann's affectionate response to the big lug relects a late-20th-century view, fostered by NatGeo specials, that gorillas are intelligent, affectionate creatures -- not ugly, brutal, or automatically threatening. Fay Wray's Ann screamed her head off, overwhelmed by fear she would be killed or devoured. Naomi Watts' Ann, though frightened, sees Kong as a misunderstood critter. "Who could ever learn to love a beast?" Well, when you love a beast -- he's not a beast any more. This is the film's fundamental error of re-conception -- Kong is no longer a rampaging monster, brought to his knees by Ann's irresistable European blondness. He is now a monster only in size, munching on bamboo, rather than Ann. The original Kong was a brutal beast throughout the story, allowing us a moment of cathartic pity when he's killed. The new Kong, sympathetic throughout, doesn't evoke this contrast of emotions. "It was beauty killed the beast" no longer makes much sense. In describing the sacrificial maidens as "brides" of Kong, the original makes the not-so-subtle suggestion that Kong "molests" his victims before killing and eating them. (Kong's ripping off Ann's clothes to sniff them supports this, though Cooper and Schoedsack said they'd put this in because seen wild monkeys smelling human clothes.) But the new version has Ann showing a great deal of affection for Kong -- an affection which, if carried too far, would suggest beastiality, with Ann the perpetrator. Another major failing * is that "economy of expression" are not words in Jackson's vocabulary. He can't resist overdoing /everything/, simply because it's doable. If the original had /one/ disgusting creature, Jackson has three or ten or fifty. The scene in which Kong is gassed and Ann bids him "farewell" is ludicrously drawn-out and overdone, the restored "spider pit" sequence is -- like my movie reviews -- numbingly overlong -- and then there's the allosaur battle. I won't describe it, because I don't want to spoil your incredulous laughter at its utter preposterousness. It was at this point that whatever sympathy I had for the remake vanished. The original was a model of terseness, starting slowly, but never stopping once it got up to speed. *** The remake is not only overlong, but overwrought. Individual scenes and sequences run on for two or three times any reasonable length, to the point where the audience (this viewer, anyway) screams "Get on with it!". Jackson's pacing isn't so hot, either. Cooper knew when to pause briefly, then pick up again. The first hour of Jackson's version (which is actually quite good) shows that he (mostly) understands "structure" and "pace", but the rest of the film is a hotch-potch of action scenes, without any sense of development or "build". It's understandable that Jackson didn't want to exactly repeat the original, but too many iconic scenes have been lost, which seems inexcusable in a three-hour film: Kong smelling Ann's clothes; Kong choosing the wrong woman from the hotel, then throwing her to the street; Kong destroying the elevated train (Jackson's destruction of a street car doesn't come close to Cooper's "German expressionist" treatment). On the other hand, he exactly reproduces the few seconds of Fay Wray and Bruce Cabot running through the jungle, a delightful moment for those familiar with the original. Would that there had been more of this. There is /one/ sequence that shows how good this film might have been. The initial encounter with the natives and Ann's subsequent capture is much superior to the original - far more atmospheric, better staged, and more exciting. Nothing else in the remake attains this level. The BD was my second viewing of this film (the first having been on DVD). It clarified why I was offended. Jackson has so altered the original -- and not to much of a good end (other than getting rid of most of the silly dialog) -- that you sit there going "No, no, no, no, no. This is /dumb/." "King Kong" is less obnoxious the second time around, simply out of familiarity. That doesn't mean it's a good film, or that Jackson made the right dramatic or aesthetic choices. He didn't. The original remains exciting (and silly). The remake is something worse than a bad film -- it's a pointless, overlong bore. ---------- "King Kong" is nothing if not a great BD demo disk. Much of the film is just plain beautiful (though I do miss the Doré skies of the B&W original), and is, technically, one of the most-startling films you'll ever see. Kong really looks like a living animal, and all but a handful of the CGI effects (such as the failure of the rowboats to look as if they're actually making contact with the water) are seamless. One Amazon reviewer's claim that you can see the green screen in some shots (I assume he means a green nimbus around the foreground objects) is absurd. The BD, unlike the DVD, has virtually no supplemental material, other than a running commentary. Jackson states that the commentary will try to steer clear of material presented in the supplements -- of which there are none. If you have one of the multi-disk DVD editions, you might want to hang onto it. Science note... Neither the original nor Jackson's remake (the latter especially) pay any attention to the fact that a small island cannot support large a variety of creatures -- big ones, especially -- that need food to survive. The apatosaurs, in particular, would strip the island of its treetop vegatation in just a few months. (This has been observed in elephants.) Another science note... Someone complained that Kong moves as if he were weightless. This is a common problem in CGI animation (see "Shreck" and "Spider-Man"), but it isn't true here. The real problem is that Kong makes impossible leaps. The reason is that mass scales as the cube of body size, but stregth scales only as the square. If a normal-size gorilla can't leap several times the length of its body, I guar-on-tee one the size of Kong won't be able to do it, either. Writer's note... Does it ever occur to directors to have someone vet their script for errors? One of the American producers follows Universal (the studio) with a plural verb, rather than a singular, in the ungrammatical British fashion. And the Army officer, griping about Kong's invasion of the "sacred" New York, calls him a "mutant monkey". Though the word dates to the turn of the 20th century, it was not in common use in 1932. * Yes, yes, yes... Marshal McLuhan actually said "The medium is the massage." I was going to say Caucasian, but Caucasians are dark-haired. * How often does one encounter a film which can be described principally in terms of all the things wrong with it? ** It has been reported that this scene, in which the sailors who fall from the log are eaten by creatures in the pit, so revolted some viewers that they walked out. Cooper and Schoedsack said the scene was removed because it brought the film to a dead stop. Jackson doesn't seem to be aware that a long, poorly paced scene can have the same effect. *** There is probably no other movie in which most of the film is a continuous "chase" sequence, with barely a moment's rest. ("Speed", perhaps.)
	King Kong (Three-Disc Deluxe Extended Edition)
	"more is less... much less"	2009-08-29
It seems self-evident that any work of art is a product of its time. It also seems self-evident that there's no point in remaking a movie unless there was something wrong with the original, or you've found a new way to approach the material. (David Lynch's rework of "The Fly" meets both critieria very well. Ditto for "The Thing" which is not so much a remake as a "make".) The problem with Peter Jackson's "King Kong" redo is that there's no way to improve on one of the greatest films ever made. To see the original "King Kong" as a technologically dated exercise that would have been "so much better" if only it had been made 70 years later, is to miss the way that the medium and the message * were inextricably linked in 1932. For example... The scene in which we hear the unseen Kong tramping through the trees to Max Steiner's music, suddenly appearing in front of the screaming Ann, scares the s* out of children (and not a few adults). It's one of the great cinematic moments, its effectiveness deriving from its in-your-face crudity. (No offense to Willis O'Brien or the Delgado brothers -- quite the opposite.) The original Kong wasn't a giant gorilla, but a horrifying id-monster portrayed by a frighteningly ugly stop-motion puppet. In converting Kong into a realistic animal, Jackson has, at a single stroke, discarded the horrific and dream-like/nightmare elements that made the original a classic. Realism is not fundamentally frightening or horrific. If you don't understand this, watch "Nosferatu" or "Vampyr". This realism, in turn, greatly weakens the original's "beauty and the beast" conceit. Ann's affectionate response to the big lug relects a late-20th-century view, fostered by NatGeo specials, that gorillas are intelligent, affectionate creatures -- not ugly, brutal, or automatically threatening. Fay Wray's Ann screamed her head off, overwhelmed by fear she would be killed or devoured. Naomi Watts' Ann, though frightened, sees Kong as a misunderstood critter. "Who could ever learn to love a beast?" Well, when you love a beast -- he's not a beast any more. This is the film's fundamental error of re-conception -- Kong is no longer a rampaging monster, brought to his knees by Ann's irresistable European blondness. He is now a monster only in size, munching on bamboo, rather than Ann. The original Kong was a brutal beast throughout the story, allowing us a moment of cathartic pity when he's killed. The new Kong, sympathetic throughout, doesn't evoke this contrast of emotions. "It was beauty killed the beast" no longer makes much sense. In describing the sacrificial maidens as "brides" of Kong, the original makes the not-so-subtle suggestion that Kong "molests" his victims before killing and eating them. (Kong's ripping off Ann's clothes to sniff them supports this, though Cooper and Schoedsack said they'd put this in because seen wild monkeys smelling human clothes.) But the new version has Ann showing a great deal of affection for Kong -- an affection which, if carried too far, would suggest beastiality, with Ann the perpetrator. Another major failing * is that "economy of expression" are not words in Jackson's vocabulary. He can't resist overdoing /everything/, simply because it's doable. If the original had /one/ disgusting creature, Jackson has three or ten or fifty. The scene in which Kong is gassed and Ann bids him "farewell" is ludicrously drawn-out and overdone, the restored "spider pit" sequence is -- like my movie reviews -- numbingly overlong -- and then there's the allosaur battle. I won't describe it, because I don't want to spoil your incredulous laughter at its utter preposterousness. It was at this point that whatever sympathy I had for the remake vanished. The original was a model of terseness, starting slowly, but never stopping once it got up to speed. *** The remake is not only overlong, but overwrought. Individual scenes and sequences run on for two or three times any reasonable length, to the point where the audience (this viewer, anyway) screams "Get on with it!". Jackson's pacing isn't so hot, either. Cooper knew when to pause briefly, then pick up again. The first hour of Jackson's version (which is actually quite good) shows that he (mostly) understands "structure" and "pace", but the rest of the film is a hotch-potch of action scenes, without any sense of development or "build". It's understandable that Jackson didn't want to exactly repeat the original, but too many iconic scenes have been lost, which seems inexcusable in a three-hour film: Kong smelling Ann's clothes; Kong choosing the wrong woman from the hotel, then throwing her to the street; Kong destroying the elevated train (Jackson's destruction of a street car doesn't come close to Cooper's "German expressionist" treatment). On the other hand, he exactly reproduces the few seconds of Fay Wray and Bruce Cabot running through the jungle, a delightful moment for those familiar with the original. Would that there had been more of this. There is /one/ sequence that shows how good this film might have been. The initial encounter with the natives and Ann's subsequent capture is much superior to the original - far more atmospheric, better staged, and more exciting. Nothing else in the remake attains this level. The BD was my second viewing of this film (the first having been on DVD). It clarified why I was offended. Jackson has so altered the original -- and not to much of a good end (other than getting rid of most of the silly dialog) -- that you sit there going "No, no, no, no, no. This is /dumb/." "King Kong" is less obnoxious the second time around, simply out of familiarity. That doesn't mean it's a good film, or that Jackson made the right dramatic or aesthetic choices. He didn't. The original remains exciting (and silly). The remake is something worse than a bad film -- it's a pointless, overlong bore. ---------- "King Kong" is nothing if not a great BD demo disk. Much of the film is just plain beautiful (though I do miss the Doré skies of the B&W original), and is, technically, one of the most-startling films you'll ever see. Kong really looks like a living animal, and all but a handful of the CGI effects (such as the failure of the rowboats to look as if they're actually making contact with the water) are seamless. One Amazon reviewer's claim that you can see the green screen in some shots (I assume he means a green nimbus around the foreground objects) is absurd. The BD, unlike the DVD, has virtually no supplemental material, other than a running commentary. Jackson states that the commentary will try to steer clear of material presented in the supplements -- of which there are none. If you have one of the multi-disk DVD editions, you might want to hang onto it. Science note... Neither the original nor Jackson's remake (the latter especially) pay any attention to the fact that a small island cannot support large a variety of creatures -- big ones, especially -- that need food to survive. The apatosaurs, in particular, would strip the island of its treetop vegatation in just a few months. (This has been observed in elephants.) Another science note... Someone complained that Kong moves as if he were weightless. This is a common problem in CGI animation (see "Shreck" and "Spider-Man"), but it isn't true here. The real problem is that Kong makes impossible leaps. The reason is that mass scales as the cube of body size, but stregth scales only as the square. If a normal-size gorilla can't leap several times the length of its body, I guar-on-tee one the size of Kong won't be able to do it, either. Writer's note... Does it ever occur to directors to have someone vet their script for errors? One of the American producers follows Universal (the studio) with a plural verb, rather than a singular, in the ungrammatical British fashion. And the Army officer, griping about Kong's invasion of the "sacred" New York, calls him a "mutant monkey". Though the word dates to the turn of the 20th century, it was not in common use in 1932. * Yes, yes, yes... Marshal McLuhan actually said "The medium is the massage." I was going to say Caucasian, but Caucasians are dark-haired. * How often does one encounter a film which can be described principally in terms of all the things wrong with it? ** It has been reported that this scene, in which the sailors who fall from the log are eaten by creatures in the pit, so revolted some viewers that they walked out. Cooper and Schoedsack said the scene was removed because it brought the film to a dead stop. Jackson doesn't seem to be aware that a long, poorly paced scene can have the same effect. *** There is probably no other movie in which most of the film is a continuous "chase" sequence, with barely a moment's rest. ("Speed", perhaps.)
	King Kong [Blu-ray]
	"more is less... much less"	2009-08-29
It seems self-evident that any work of art is a product of its time. It also seems self-evident that there's no point in remaking a movie unless there was something wrong with the original, or you've found a new way to approach the material. (David Lynch's rework of "The Fly" meets both critieria very well. Ditto for "The Thing" which is not so much a remake as a "make".) The problem with Peter Jackson's "King Kong" redo is that there's no way to improve on one of the greatest films ever made. To see the original "King Kong" as a technologically dated exercise that would have been "so much better" if only it had been made 70 years later, is to miss the way that the medium and the message * were inextricably linked in 1932. For example... The scene in which we hear the unseen Kong tramping through the trees to Max Steiner's music, suddenly appearing in front of the screaming Ann, scares the s* out of children (and not a few adults). It's one of the great cinematic moments, its effectiveness deriving from its in-your-face crudity. (No offense to Willis O'Brien or the Delgado brothers -- quite the opposite.) The original Kong wasn't a giant gorilla, but a horrifying id-monster portrayed by a frighteningly ugly stop-motion puppet. In converting Kong into a realistic animal, Jackson has, at a single stroke, discarded the horrific and dream-like/nightmare elements that made the original a classic. Realism is not fundamentally frightening or horrific. If you don't understand this, watch "Nosferatu" or "Vampyr". This realism, in turn, greatly weakens the original's "beauty and the beast" conceit. Ann's affectionate response to the big lug relects a late-20th-century view, fostered by NatGeo specials, that gorillas are intelligent, affectionate creatures -- not ugly, brutal, or automatically threatening. Fay Wray's Ann screamed her head off, overwhelmed by fear she would be killed or devoured. Naomi Watts' Ann, though frightened, sees Kong as a misunderstood critter. "Who could ever learn to love a beast?" Well, when you love a beast -- he's not a beast any more. This is the film's fundamental error of re-conception -- Kong is no longer a rampaging monster, brought to his knees by Ann's irresistable European blondness. He is now a monster only in size, munching on bamboo, rather than Ann. The original Kong was a brutal beast throughout the story, allowing us a moment of cathartic pity when he's killed. The new Kong, sympathetic throughout, doesn't evoke this contrast of emotions. "It was beauty killed the beast" no longer makes much sense. In describing the sacrificial maidens as "brides" of Kong, the original makes the not-so-subtle suggestion that Kong "molests" his victims before killing and eating them. (Kong's ripping off Ann's clothes to sniff them supports this, though Cooper and Schoedsack said they'd put this in because seen wild monkeys smelling human clothes.) But the new version has Ann showing a great deal of affection for Kong -- an affection which, if carried too far, would suggest beastiality, with Ann the perpetrator. Another major failing * is that "economy of expression" are not words in Jackson's vocabulary. He can't resist overdoing /everything/, simply because it's doable. If the original had /one/ disgusting creature, Jackson has three or ten or fifty. The scene in which Kong is gassed and Ann bids him "farewell" is ludicrously drawn-out and overdone, the restored "spider pit" sequence is -- like my movie reviews -- numbingly overlong -- and then there's the allosaur battle. I won't describe it, because I don't want to spoil your incredulous laughter at its utter preposterousness. It was at this point that whatever sympathy I had for the remake vanished. The original was a model of terseness, starting slowly, but never stopping once it got up to speed. *** The remake is not only overlong, but overwrought. Individual scenes and sequences run on for two or three times any reasonable length, to the point where the audience (this viewer, anyway) screams "Get on with it!". Jackson's pacing isn't so hot, either. Cooper knew when to pause briefly, then pick up again. The first hour of Jackson's version (which is actually quite good) shows that he (mostly) understands "structure" and "pace", but the rest of the film is a hotch-potch of action scenes, without any sense of development or "build". It's understandable that Jackson didn't want to exactly repeat the original, but too many iconic scenes have been lost, which seems inexcusable in a three-hour film: Kong smelling Ann's clothes; Kong choosing the wrong woman from the hotel, then throwing her to the street; Kong destroying the elevated train (Jackson's destruction of a street car doesn't come close to Cooper's "German expressionist" treatment). On the other hand, he exactly reproduces the few seconds of Fay Wray and Bruce Cabot running through the jungle, a delightful moment for those familiar with the original. Would that there had been more of this. There is /one/ sequence that shows how good this film might have been. The initial encounter with the natives and Ann's subsequent capture is much superior to the original - far more atmospheric, better staged, and more exciting. Nothing else in the remake attains this level. The BD was my second viewing of this film (the first having been on DVD). It clarified why I was offended. Jackson has so altered the original -- and not to much of a good end (other than getting rid of most of the silly dialog) -- that you sit there going "No, no, no, no, no. This is /dumb/." "King Kong" is less obnoxious the second time around, simply out of familiarity. That doesn't mean it's a good film, or that Jackson made the right dramatic or aesthetic choices. He didn't. The original remains exciting (and silly). The remake is something worse than a bad film -- it's a pointless, overlong bore. ---------- "King Kong" is nothing if not a great BD demo disk. Much of the film is just plain beautiful (though I do miss the Doré skies of the B&W original), and is, technically, one of the most-startling films you'll ever see. Kong really looks like a living animal, and all but a handful of the CGI effects (such as the failure of the rowboats to look as if they're actually making contact with the water) are seamless. One Amazon reviewer's claim that you can see the green screen in some shots (I assume he means a green nimbus around the foreground objects) is absurd. The BD, unlike the DVD, has virtually no supplemental material, other than a running commentary. Jackson states that the commentary will try to steer clear of material presented in the supplements -- of which there are none. If you have one of the multi-disk DVD editions, you might want to hang onto it. Science note... Neither the original nor Jackson's remake (the latter especially) pay any attention to the fact that a small island cannot support large a variety of creatures -- big ones, especially -- that need food to survive. The apatosaurs, in particular, would strip the island of its treetop vegatation in just a few months. (This has been observed in elephants.) Another science note... Someone complained that Kong moves as if he were weightless. This is a common problem in CGI animation (see "Shreck" and "Spider-Man"), but it isn't true here. The real problem is that Kong makes impossible leaps. The reason is that mass scales as the cube of body size, but stregth scales only as the square. If a normal-size gorilla can't leap several times the length of its body, I guar-on-tee one the size of Kong won't be able to do it, either. Writer's note... Does it ever occur to directors to have someone vet their script for errors? One of the American producers follows Universal (the studio) with a plural verb, rather than a singular, in the ungrammatical British fashion. And the Army officer, griping about Kong's invasion of the "sacred" New York, calls him a "mutant monkey". Though the word dates to the turn of the 20th century, it was not in common use in 1932. * Yes, yes, yes... Marshal McLuhan actually said "The medium is the massage." I was going to say Caucasian, but Caucasians are dark-haired. * How often does one encounter a film which can be described principally in terms of all the things wrong with it? ** It has been reported that this scene, in which the sailors who fall from the log are eaten by creatures in the pit, so revolted some viewers that they walked out. Cooper and Schoedsack said the scene was removed because it brought the film to a dead stop. Jackson doesn't seem to be aware that a long, poorly paced scene can have the same effect. *** There is probably no other movie in which most of the film is a continuous "chase" sequence, with barely a moment's rest. ("Speed", perhaps.)
	Simple & Direct
	"an assault on stupid writing"	2009-07-25
"Simple & Direct" had a major influence on my becoming a technical writer. It is an attack on incorrect word usage and just-plain-stupid writing. Anyone who takes writing seriously should have it on their shelf next to "On Writing Well" and "The Elements of Style".
	No Country for Old Men [Blu-ray]
	"a disappointing diminution..."	2009-07-08
"Citizen Kane" is what I call a "movie movie". That is, it is as much about the /process/ of film-making as it is about telling a story. We are very much aware of the film on both levels -- tale-telling plus movies-as-artifice. The Coen brothers often make such films. This style can work well, when the story is strong enough, and they minimize their tendency to cruelly caricature people, or turn up their noses at "hicks" who never went to college. * It also works when they perfectly mimic a literary style ("Raising Arizona"). Despite the brothers' claim that "No Country for Old Men" is unlike anything they've done, it's obviously a rehash of "Fargo", and inferior hash, at that. Tommy Lee Jones and Josh Brolin play intelligent, appealing people, and Javier Bardem's turn as a psychotic murderer with a terrible haircut is frighteningly good, but the rest of the characters are mostly dull-witted boobs. In short, "Fargo" /works/, while "No Country for Old Men" is little more than an exercise in style, one that we've seen too often. "Fargo" skates dangerously close to the thin ice of the Coens' trademark style (how's that for a metaphor?), but succeeds, because, despite the Coens' tendency to hold their characters at an emotional arm's length, all have recongnizable personalities & problems, and are not merely caricatures or types. And though Marge starts off as a funny-talking buffoon, we are won over by her intelligence, dedication, and (at the end) her sincere and forthright expression of what is and isn't right. Ultimately, we are /involved/ with "Fargo"'s characters. "No Country for Old Men" isn't much more than clever writing and good acting. It's a technically well-made film, and little else. Just to clarify a point... I am an intellectual, I like intellecutal things, and I have no fundamental problem with the Coens' "intellectual" approach to film-making. But you cannot tell stories about "ideas", only about people. When you reduce people to shallow caricatures, you lose the ability to connect with the audience, which is the reason for making the film in the first place. I think I'll stop by the library and borrow the book. I suspect it's a lot better. ---------- Here's my book report. (I might post an extended review of the book, but don't know right now. If you're interested, click on "see all my reviews" and browse.) On the surface, "No Country for Old Men" has "Coen brothers movie" written all over it. It's shot through with acidly black humor and a generally dismal view of (some parts of) humanity. To my surprise, all but two or three lines of dialog were lifted directly from the book, including the following from Sheriff Bell (TLJ): "Here last week they found this couple out in California they would rent out rooms to old people and then kill em and bury em in the yard and cash their social security checks. They'd torture em first, I dont know why. Maybe their television was broke." That's not Joel and Ethan -- that's Cormac. (So is the idiosyncratic use of apostrophes and the failure to capitalize proper nouns.) The problem is that, in passing McCarthy's Coen-flavored story through the Coen's own filter, the Coen-ish elements are emphasized at the expense of the McCarthy-ish. The film is primarily a crime drama with an icing of social commentary, whereas the book uses the crime as a hook to hang the commentary on. The film doesn't ignore the philosophy/perspective/insight (whatever you want to call it), it's just that they take a back seat to the sorts of weirdness and grotesquerie that appeal to the Coens. The process of converting "No Country for Old Men" to a film both amplifies and diminishes the book. The amplification lies mainly in hearing fine actors deliver the lines. The diminution lies in the Coen's failure to clearly dramatize the book's reason for being -- an attack on the gross materialism of American society. The film shows what is easy to show -- the physical activity of the chase -- and pays less attention to the characters' inner lives -- which is not the Coen brothers' "style", and would kindly bring the film to a dead stop, anyway. The Coens are not known for their "humanity", and the relatively thin treatment of Llewelyn's and Ball's marriages -- both happy ones -- hurts the film, because it largely lacks a "humane center" against which to play the utter evil of the story. The story of Carla Jean's belief about how, when she started working at Walmart, she knew she would there meet the man she was destined to spend her life with -- which she does -- is not only poignant, but perversely justifies Chigurh's claim that everything she has done in her life has inevitably led to his murdering her. Yet it is omitted in the film. However entertaining "No Country for Old Men" is (and it is highly entertaining), it is a poor adaptation of an outstanding novel. The Coen brothers are hardly the first directors to take what they like from a story and leave behind what is truly important, and will not be the last. As odd as it sounds, if you're interested in reading the novel (and I can't recommend it highly enough), see the film first. This sequence throws what is so good about the book into sharp relief. PS: As a degreed EE, and licensed Amateur operator (KA3QXL), I have to point out that, once the transponder was placed in the air duct, its output would be shielded to the point where you'd be hard-pressed to pick it up even a few feet away. Indeed, even if it had been sitting on the floor in the motel room, it's unlikely it could have been picked up from the highway, especially with the interrogating transmitter sitting on the car's seat, where its signal would be blocked by the door.
	The Freshman
	"charming, delightful"	2009-07-01
warning -- possible (subtle) plot spoiler Quickly -- how many films include both Marlon Brando, /and/ someone playing "Heart and Soul" on the piano? Two, and this is one of them. "The Freshman" is nearly 20 years old, and I can't believe it's taken me this long to see it. If anyone doubts Brando's acting chops, this film should convince them. Though his character is an obvious Don Corleone parody, and Brando might have taken the easy way out, by going no further, he doesn't. It's a brilliant performance that never calls attention to itself. Paul Benedict, best-remembered as one of the Jeffersons' neighbors, does a wonderful turn as a self-centered, really irritating teacher. He's almost believable. If the story seems Just Plain Weird, note that nothing that happens is a coincidence. I'll say no more, other than that the "reveal" -- which makes sense of it all -- comes toward the end. Hang in there.
	The Freshman
	"charming, delightful"	2009-07-01
warning -- possible (subtle) plot spoiler Quickly -- how many films include both Marlon Brando, /and/ someone playing "Heart and Soul" on the piano? Two, and this is one of them. "The Freshman" is nearly 20 years old, and I can't believe it's taken me this long to see it. If anyone doubts Brando's acting chops, this film should convince them. Though his character is an obvious Don Corleone parody, and Brando might have taken the easy way out, by going no further, he doesn't. It's a brilliant performance that never calls attention to itself. Paul Benedict, best-remembered as one of the Jeffersons' neighbors, does a wonderful turn as a self-centered, really irritating teacher. He's almost believable. If the story seems Just Plain Weird, note that nothing that happens is a coincidence. I'll say no more, other than that the "reveal" -- which makes sense of it all -- comes toward the end. Hang in there.
	Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull [Blu-ray]
	"I think I know why so many people were disappointed..."	2009-06-25
"KCS" was not anywhere nearly as bad as I'd been lead to believe. But I understand why so many fans were disappointed. As others have said, it's not fair to condemn Indy's "refrigerator escape" without also criticizing all the other silly gags in the films (they are, after all, supposed to be tongue-in-cheek homages/parodies), most notably the "life-raft escape" in #2. Indy, Willie, and Short Round /should/ have been killed (or at least had their hips rammed into their jaws), * but it /looked/ plausible. Sort of. The "refrigerator escape" so obviously crossed the line of plausibility that audiences rejected it. (I have no problems with CGI prairie dogs, however.) "KCS"'s main problem is that, unlike the other films, there is no specific item -- the Ark, the stones, the Grail -- to drive and motivate the plot. Instead, he and the others are headed someone to find something that might be of interest. We've already seen the powers of the Crystal Skull, so why should we remain interested? And we're told so much about what to expect that the climax isn't much of a payoff. (And it isn't very exciting, either.) The result is an adventure film lacking the tension such films need. The whole thing has a set-piece "concocted" quality. The Blu-ray Disk comes in a nice little hard-back book with production photos. It's not a big deal, but it's nice to see this sort of deluxe packaging, which other companies seem to be adopting. (Maybe they're trying to maintain the price of BDs.) Now, how about the first three disks in good BD editions? * I recently met a retired Army man whose chute failed to open -- and whose legs were so badly injured he's now 3" shorter than he used to be.
	Star Trek: Original Motion Picture Collection (The Motion Picture / The Wrath of Kahn / The Search for Spock / The Voyage Home / The Final Frontier / The Undiscovered Country) [Blu-ray]
	"much better than I expected..."	2009-06-23
I will eventually fill this space in with more-detailed comments, but I have to remark on the issue of the "restoration" of ST2. Paramount made a mistake in announcing that it had been "restored". The implication was that all the films needed restoration (to some degree) and the others had not been restored. The opposite, of course, is true. ST2 was restored because it apparently needed it. It is the (relatively) worst-looking of these films: slightly soft, and with not-quite-right color. It is, nevertheless, really good-looking, and worth the BD transfer. "Star Trek: the Motion Picture" needs some defending. It suffers from less-than-snappy dialog, and a groan-inducing ending to a story whose theme has been explored in hundreds of science-fiction works. Yet, it is one of the most-beautiful motion pictures I have ever seen, capturing a real sense of the mystery and wonder of the universe, something rarely seen in SF films. And it has Jerry Goldsmith's magnificent score, a true masterpiece, which both complements and enriches the film. The deleted bits that appear in the "Director's Cut" are included as a supplement. They add nothing to the film, but in a movie so lacking humor, it would be nice to have Ilya's line "I will not take advantage of sexually immature species" restored. I saw ST:tMP in first run, and the Blu-ray transfer is a meaningful improvement on what I saw in the theater. Even if you think you don't like the film, give the Blu-ray a chance. Heck, where else are you going to see Deforest Kelly with a thick, "I wanna grab it" beard?
	Spider-Man - The High Definition Trilogy 4 Disc Set (Spider-Man / Spider-Man 2 / Spider-Man 2.1 / Spider-Man 3) [Blu-ray]
	"Superman lite"	2009-05-27
"Spider-Man" was arguably the first modern super-hero comic book. It demonstrated how a fundamentally idiotic idea (attaining super powers from the bite of a radioactive spider has been mercilessly parodied) could work, if the story resonated with the readers. Lee and Ditko had the sense to make the hero a geeky teenager who has super powers thrust on him, without the experience or wisdom to know what to do. The parallel with the transition from puberty to maturity is obvious, but it works. "Spider-Man" was probably the biggest single influence in moving comic books away from melodrama and toward drama. Sam Raimi, a director notorious for over-the-top silliness, would seem the least-likely choice for such material, but he handles it perfectly. The focus is firmly on Peter's relationships with his family and Mary-Jane, even in the third film (which has too many villains, and too many plot lines to tie up). It's underplayed, with Maguire's performance convincingly shy without being sappy. He might be a geek, but he's no dork. Rosemary Harris is especially fine as everyone's idea of the perfect nuturing aunt. Her performance is much better than it has to be. The only unbelievable character is J Jonah Jameson, but then, he was over-the-top in the comics, too; no Perry White, he. J K Simmons (perhaps best-known as the bisexual Nazi murderer-rapist in HBO's "Oz") shows he's just as good at comedy, nailing the character. (No jokes, please.) If the Spider-Man films have a problem, it's that there's a limited number of feats a super hero can perform, and only so many emotional conflicts a human being can experience. Not surprisingly, their situations and story arcs are uncomfortably like those in the first three Superman films: Peter swings up to catch Mary Jane as she falls (he later repeats the act with his aunt). He abandons his super-identify because it interferes with what he most wants out of life. People "on the street" aid him when he's in trouble. He even loses and regains his super powers. And in the third film, Gwen Stacy's inevitable fall from a building is so close to Lois Lane's helicopter fall (with the mic cable replaced by a telephone cord) that it verges on plagiarism. Not to mention that, as in S3, a drastic change in the hero's personality is a central plot element. Whether or not this is conscious copying, it does give an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu, which is why I've awarded these well-done and entertaining films only four stars. I can't resist pointing out that, as with most super-hero films, there is an utter disregard for the laws of physics. Worse, the animators don't understand one of the most-basic: F = ma. Objects and people move almost instantly from rest to motion (or back), which is not only unrealisitc, but impossible. (Disney had a good grasp of this 70 years ago. Digital animators don't seem to have caught it. Note, for example, how Shrek moves as if his body is massless.) S-M3 also overlooks e = mv^2/2 -- there's no way a swinging crane could crack a building's girders. The Blu-ray transfers are of the high quality one expects. (They /ought/ to be -- Sony owns Columbia.) The second film includes the extended "2.1" version. I don't believe there's any supplemental material that hasn't already appeared on the DVDs.
	Lonesome Dove
	"The missing scene..."	2009-05-04
Though this review does not include "adult" language, the subject matter might offend some people. This is not so much a "literary" review as it is a socio-political one. I want to kick Larry McMurtry in the shins for failing to fully develop his deconstructionist view of the American West. One of the best things about "Lonesome Dove" is that it is /not/ a literary work. It's simply a good story, well told. McMurtry's direct, unpretentious style never gets in the way. (One /can/ be pretentiously simple -- see Hemingway.) And if the first few lines, and the brilliantly developed first chapter that follows them, don't grab you, there's no way you're going to like it. (The prequels suffer from weak opening chapters.) I've read "Lonesome Dove" twice, and will probably pick it up again in a few years. My issue with McMurtry is that, in trying to present the American West as it (probably) was, * is that "Lonesome Dove" (and its prequels/sequels) avoid any mention of -- how shall I say this? -- "male relationships". The possibility that men ever get sexually involved with each other -- whether out of need for physical release, or for affection -- is not part of McMurtry's wild-West Weltanschauung. (I threw that in to show that I know some big words. I like alliteration, too.) McMurtry is not anti-gay. In "The Last Picture Show" he treats homosexuality in a sympathetic, almost comic fashion (which, for a story of the early '60s, is arguably implausible). But the thought of physical relations between men seems to bother him. McMurtry is not known for explicit sex scenes. His characters engage in sex, but he's more interested in their reasons for doing it and their reactions to it, rather than the act itself. McMurtry's admiration (and near-idolatry) of strong women perhaps explains his general avoidance of male/male sexual activity. It is, after all, an implicit rejection of the most-basic need men have for women. What is particularly odd about "Lonesome Dove" is that Gus and Woodrow are clearly "married" (Gus the querulous wife, Woodrow the taciturn husband), a relationship with precedents in Western literature (eg, Bret Harte's "Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy"), but McMurtry doesn't do much to develop or reflect on this aspect of their relationship, other than Clara's expression of ferocious sexual jealousy. (The book, more than the film, makes it clear that Clara needs men she can dominate and control.) I interpret the scene in which Gus suggests to Lorie that /she/ choose what kind of sex they'll have, with Lorie utterly failing to understand, as McMurtry's way of indicating that Gus -- portrayed in all the books as someone with better physical sight (and therefore superior insight) -- is fully aware of what his relationship with Woodrow /could/ have been. One might go even further to argue that Gus is continually running after whores precisely because it short-circuits any possibility of them becoming involved in any kind of sexual relation with each other, even an occasional "chaw for a chaw". Given Gus's propensity for taking pot shots at Woodrow's dullness, it seemed likely that he would have gotten in at least one more jab before dying. The following interpolation to Gus's death scene /should/ have been written by Larry McMurtry, but wasn't. I apologize for not quite matching his style, because my writing leans toward complexity. (Gus's "voice" is quite easy to imitate, especially after hearing Robert Duvall nail the character.) "Dangerous to write to two women at the same time," he said. "Especially when I'm this lightheaded. I might not be as particular in my sentiments as women expect a fellow to be." [added material begins here] Gus paused writing, hoping the lightheadedness would clear. Without the writing to occupy his thoughts, the urge to talk returned. "You're somethin', Woodrow. We been together most of our lives, and though I'm about to shuffle off this coil, you don't seem to think that deserves a farewell salutation." Call knew what shuffling was, but did not see the connection with a coil of rope. Was a salutation anything like a salute? Gus never passed up an opportunity to confuse or irritate him. Would Gus continue to pester him until the moment he died? Call did not look forward to Gus's death, but Gus seemed to be taking his time, just to exasperate him. "You want something else, Gus?", Call asked. "A kiss, Woodrow, a kiss. For a dear friend you ain't likely to see again." Yet another annoyance. After a kiss, would Gus then ask for a poke? After extracting a solemn promise to cart his body to Texas, Gus might consider a poke as only a small inconvenience. Why would one man want to poke another man, anyway? There was only one place to do it, and it did not seem an accommodating spot for the fellow who was being poked. Gus was annoyed that Call had shown no initiative in kissing his compañero goodbye, ** and had to be pressed to it. Gus was curious to know what kissing a man felt like. The request would serve nicely as his last chance to irritate Call. Gus found the strength to grasp Call's blouse and pull his unenthusiastic friend to his mouth. Never having kissed a man, Gus was not familiar with the procedure. A simple pressing of the lips seemed satisfactory, and likely all Call would accept. He would surely not tolerate Gus's tongue in his mouth, and Gus didn't think his curiosity extended that far. Gus brushed aside Call's beard to uncover his lips. He found them quite unlike a woman's -- thin, firm, and dry. The kiss was not unpleasant, but hardly so fine as Lorie's or Clara's. When Call did not respond, Gus made a great show of bussing him vigorously and affectionately. He couldn't demand something, then be half-hearted in taking it. Call found no reason to respond. The week's worth of stubble on Gus's face scraped his lips in an unfamiliar manner, but he found nothing arousing or even interesting in Gus's kiss, nothing that justified a return. His feelings for Gus would be no different for having kissed him before his passing. Having indulged his desire for a kiss, and been sorely disappointed in Call's failure to respond with the least bit of enthusiasm -- not altogether a surprise, as Call would likely have been as cold with a woman -- Gus released his friend and fell back on the pillows. "'I god, Woodrow, you have now kissed a man almost as many times as you have kissed a woman. Maybe more. Not a very good record in my book, or any man's book. I figure the lady kisses -- if there was any -- was scarcely more passionate. That's another reason the women-folk don't care for you." The energy Gus spent in kissing Call and rebuking his coolness made him even more lightheaded. He was not ready to return to letter-writing. He lay quietly and stared at his friend. Staring was a rare activity for Gus, as his brain was most-often occupied working his mouth. Call tolerated the stare quietly. The silence ended when a thought that had often crossed Gus's mind, but he'd never thought wise to utter, rose to the surface. "Woodrow, I have on occasion wondered what our lives would have been like if you and I had been..." Uncharacteristically, Gus reconsidered. Finishing his thought would doubtless send Call into conniptions, because he was too damned ignorant to understand what he was about to say. Call would likely storm out, taking with him the promise to bury Gus in Clara's orchard. "Don't matter, Woodrow. We wasn't born that way." Call had no idea what Gus was talking about. Though Gus's words would on occasion come to mind, he was never able to reckon what Gus had stopped in the middle of saying. But that was Augustus McCrae, forever saying things that made no sense. The lightheadedness finally passed, and Gus struggled back into a near-upright position, without Call assisting a man who was so determined to die. Gus slowly completed the letters, folding one of them. [original continues, with first sentence of paragraph deleted] Then Call saw his hand drop and thought he was dead. He wasn't, but he was too weak to fold the second note. Call folded it for him. * There is some irony in this, as the novel is based on a screenplay written with Jimmy Stewart, Henry Ford, and John Wayne in mind. "The Searchers" notwithstanding, one does not associate The Duke with revisionist views of American history. ** In both the 18th and 19th centuries, it would not have been considered odd for a man to kiss a dying male friend goodbye. (It even occurs in the 1927 film "Wings".) As we see in "Dead Man's Walk" and "Comanche Moon", Woodrow F. Call is not only unaware of metaphor, but seems devoid of common human emotions. He is quite cold not to kiss his best pard, and shouldn't have had to be asked. Though the novel doesn't mention Call's failure to kiss Gus (how could Larry McMurtry /not/ be aware of death kisses?), its omission shows nevertheless just how cut-off from normal human emotion Call is.
	Lonesome Dove : A Novel (Simon & Schuster Classics)
	"The missing scene..."	2009-05-04
Though this review does not include "adult" language, the subject matter might offend some people. This is not so much a "literary" review as it is a socio-political one. I want to kick Larry McMurtry in the shins for failing to fully develop his deconstructionist view of the American West. One of the best things about "Lonesome Dove" is that it is /not/ a literary work. It's simply a good story, well told. McMurtry's direct, unpretentious style never gets in the way. (One /can/ be pretentiously simple -- see Hemingway.) And if the first few lines, and the brilliantly developed first chapter that follows them, don't grab you, there's no way you're going to like it. (The prequels suffer from weak opening chapters.) I've read "Lonesome Dove" twice, and will probably pick it up again in a few years. My issue with McMurtry is that, in trying to present the American West as it (probably) was, * is that "Lonesome Dove" (and its prequels/sequels) avoid any mention of -- how shall I say this? -- "male relationships". The possibility that men ever get sexually involved with each other -- whether out of need for physical release, or for affection -- is not part of McMurtry's wild-West Weltanschauung. (I threw that in to show that I know some big words. I like alliteration, too.) McMurtry is not anti-gay. In "The Last Picture Show" he treats homosexuality in a sympathetic, almost comic fashion (which, for a story of the early '60s, is arguably implausible). But the thought of physical relations between men seems to bother him. McMurtry is not known for explicit sex scenes. His characters engage in sex, but he's more interested in their reasons for doing it and their reactions to it, rather than the act itself. McMurtry's admiration (and near-idolatry) of strong women perhaps explains his general avoidance of male/male sexual activity. It is, after all, an implicit rejection of the most-basic need men have for women. What is particularly odd about "Lonesome Dove" is that Gus and Woodrow are clearly "married" (Gus the querulous wife, Woodrow the taciturn husband), a relationship with precedents in Western literature (eg, Bret Harte's "Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy"), but McMurtry doesn't do much to develop or reflect on this aspect of their relationship, other than Clara's expression of ferocious sexual jealousy. (The book, more than the film, makes it clear that Clara needs men she can dominate and control.) I interpret the scene in which Gus suggests to Lorie that /she/ choose what kind of sex they'll have, with Lorie utterly failing to understand, as McMurtry's way of indicating that Gus -- portrayed in all the books as someone with better physical sight (and therefore superior insight) -- is fully aware of what his relationship with Woodrow /could/ have been. One might go even further to argue that Gus is continually running after whores precisely because it short-circuits any possibility of them becoming involved in any kind of sexual relation with each other, even an occasional "chaw for a chaw". Given Gus's propensity for taking pot shots at Woodrow's dullness, it seemed likely that he would have gotten in at least one more jab before dying. The following interpolation to Gus's death scene /should/ have been written by Larry McMurtry, but wasn't. I apologize for not quite matching his style, because my writing leans toward complexity. (Gus's "voice" is quite easy to imitate, especially after hearing Robert Duvall nail the character.) "Dangerous to write to two women at the same time," he said. "Especially when I'm this lightheaded. I might not be as particular in my sentiments as women expect a fellow to be." [added material begins here] Gus paused writing, hoping the lightheadedness would clear. Without the writing to occupy his thoughts, the urge to talk returned. "You're somethin', Woodrow. We been together most of our lives, and though I'm about to shuffle off this coil, you don't seem to think that deserves a farewell salutation." Call knew what shuffling was, but did not see the connection with a coil of rope. Was a salutation anything like a salute? Gus never passed up an opportunity to confuse or irritate him. Would Gus continue to pester him until the moment he died? Call did not look forward to Gus's death, but Gus seemed to be taking his time, just to exasperate him. "You want something else, Gus?", Call asked. "A kiss, Woodrow, a kiss. For a dear friend you ain't likely to see again." Yet another annoyance. After a kiss, would Gus then ask for a poke? After extracting a solemn promise to cart his body to Texas, Gus might consider a poke as only a small inconvenience. Why would one man want to poke another man, anyway? There was only one place to do it, and it did not seem an accommodating spot for the fellow who was being poked. Gus was annoyed that Call had shown no initiative in kissing his compañero goodbye, ** and had to be pressed to it. Gus was curious to know what kissing a man felt like. The request would serve nicely as his last chance to irritate Call. Gus found the strength to grasp Call's blouse and pull his unenthusiastic friend to his mouth. Never having kissed a man, Gus was not familiar with the procedure. A simple pressing of the lips seemed satisfactory, and likely all Call would accept. He would surely not tolerate Gus's tongue in his mouth, and Gus didn't think his curiosity extended that far. Gus brushed aside Call's beard to uncover his lips. He found them quite unlike a woman's -- thin, firm, and dry. The kiss was not unpleasant, but hardly so fine as Lorie's or Clara's. When Call did not respond, Gus made a great show of bussing him vigorously and affectionately. He couldn't demand something, then be half-hearted in taking it. Call found no reason to respond. The week's worth of stubble on Gus's face scraped his lips in an unfamiliar manner, but he found nothing arousing or even interesting in Gus's kiss, nothing that justified a return. His feelings for Gus would be no different for having kissed him before his passing. Having indulged his desire for a kiss, and been sorely disappointed in Call's failure to respond with the least bit of enthusiasm -- not altogether a surprise, as Call would likely have been as cold with a woman -- Gus released his friend and fell back on the pillows. "'I god, Woodrow, you have now kissed a man almost as many times as you have kissed a woman. Maybe more. Not a very good record in my book, or any man's book. I figure the lady kisses -- if there was any -- was scarcely more passionate. That's another reason the women-folk don't care for you." The energy Gus spent in kissing Call and rebuking his coolness made him even more lightheaded. He was not ready to return to letter-writing. He lay quietly and stared at his friend. Staring was a rare activity for Gus, as his brain was most-often occupied working his mouth. Call tolerated the stare quietly. The silence ended when a thought that had often crossed Gus's mind, but he'd never thought wise to utter, rose to the surface. "Woodrow, I have on occasion wondered what our lives would have been like if you and I had been..." Uncharacteristically, Gus reconsidered. Finishing his thought would doubtless send Call into conniptions, because he was too damned ignorant to understand what he was about to say. Call would likely storm out, taking with him the promise to bury Gus in Clara's orchard. "Don't matter, Woodrow. We wasn't born that way." Call had no idea what Gus was talking about. Though Gus's words would on occasion come to mind, he was never able to reckon what Gus had stopped in the middle of saying. But that was Augustus McCrae, forever saying things that made no sense. The lightheadedness finally passed, and Gus struggled back into a near-upright position, without Call assisting a man who was so determined to die. Gus slowly completed the letters, folding one of them. [original continues, with first sentence of paragraph deleted] Then Call saw his hand drop and thought he was dead. He wasn't, but he was too weak to fold the second note. Call folded it for him. * There is some irony in this, as the novel is based on a screenplay written with Jimmy Stewart, Henry Ford, and John Wayne in mind. "The Searchers" notwithstanding, one does not associate The Duke with revisionist views of American history. ** In both the 18th and 19th centuries, it would not have been considered odd for a man to kiss a dying male friend goodbye. (It even occurs in the 1927 film "Wings".) As we see in "Dead Man's Walk" and "Comanche Moon", Woodrow F. Call is not only unaware of metaphor, but seems devoid of common human emotions. He is quite cold not to kiss his best pard, and shouldn't have had to be asked. Though the novel doesn't mention Call's failure to kiss Gus (how could Larry McMurtry /not/ be aware of death kisses?), its omission shows nevertheless just how cut-off from normal human emotion Call is.
	The Searchers
	"A Blu-ray demo disk you /have/ to own."	2009-05-02
The image quality of "The Searchers" is nothing short of startling. We'll get to that after I've lit into the film. Yes, I'm going to tear to pieces what is generaly considered one of /the/ great American films, and (by many people) the best Western ever made. John Ford was a great director, but I've never cared much for his Westerns. Maybe I'm tired of seeing Ward Bond play the same role again and again. Or perhaps it's just that I don't care for John Wayne, who is hardly my model of ideal manliness. (Jimmy Stewart was ten times the man John Wayne was.) "The Searchers" has two major problems, neither of which -- as far as I know -- has ever been pointed out. (After writing this, I browsed the Amazon reviews and found that other people have almost-identical reservations.) They render it a far poorer film than it could or should have been. The first is that it tries to tell two stories that have little to do with each other, and fail to mesh in any meaningful way. The primary story is Ethan and Martin's five-year search for Ethan's kidnapped niece. This is intercut with the broadly comic narrative of Laurie's frustration at trying to get Martin to come back and marry her. (Note Ken Curtis, later Festus on "Gunsmoke", as her dorky, guitar-strumming suitor.) It doesn't work. The search is morbidly dark, while Laurie's plight is silly beyond belief. Any possibility of dramatic unity -- this is, after all, a serious film about a serious subject -- is destroyed. (Aristotle would have heartily agreed.) Which brings us to the other problem. John Wayne was no actor. He was more than a decade from reaching the point where he could turn in a credible/creditable performance (Rooster Cogburn in "True Grit", for which he won an undeserved Oscar). In "The Searchers" he is still John Wayne, with a limited performance range that doesn't extend beyond what John Wayne, the man, is capable of. True, Wayne had a difficult job for any actor -- he had convey his hatred of Indians and desire to kill Debbie for 99% of the film -- then abruptly change his mind. The problem is that we see no motivation for the change. He picks her up, she looks frightened (she knows what he intends), and then, out of nowhere, "Let's go home, Debbie." * It just isn't believable. Ford should have shown us John Wayne's face, so that we could have gotten /some/ idea of what was going through his mind. Why he doesn't is anyone's guess. Did he think Wayne was incapable of believably revealing his change of heart? Or did it never cross Ford's mind? Regardless, the film lands with a dramatic "thud" -- Something Important happens, but we don't have the least idea /why/. The moment the story is building up to /never occurs/. "The Searchers" would have worked far better if it had stuck with the search, and ignored just about everything else. Yes, it would have been an even darker film, but it would have packed a far stronger punch. So why do people hold "The Searchers" in such high esteem? The reason appears to be that it was one of the first "deconstuctionist" Westerns. Ethan Edwards is bluntly racist, and is determined to find his niece so he can kill her. She's been polluted by her five-year contact with the "Comanch", and his no longer a "white" woman. * She'd be better off dead, and Ethan is the man to do it. But however awful the Indians' behavior is, we are not on Ethan's side. Our broad sympathies lie with the Indians, not the Americans. ** Unfortunately, "The Searchers" doesn't achieve what it sets out to do. It's all hat and no cattle. You don't get points for trying to be profound -- you actually have to achieve it. In this, "The Searchers" fails quite badly. It's easy to imagine a remake that's far superior to the original. As for the transfer... Oh... my... God... I couldn't believe it. It appears to have been derived from the VistaVision camera negatives. I have never seen a more exquisitely sharp and detailed video image (and with zero apparent edge enhancement). Ford's use of multiple image planes, some in-focus, the others out -- is clearly displayed. *** Please note that in the supplemental material, someone describes "The Searchers" as having been filmed in three-strip Technicolor, which it almost certainly wasn't. And Martin Scorsese avers that VistaVision has greater depth of field than conventional 35mm movies. Wrong -- it has less. (It's hard to understand how someone who's been making films for four decades doesn't understand Photography 101.) If you're a fan of "The Searchers", do yourself a favor and get the Blu-ray. Even if you don't care for the film, buy it anyhow. It's a great demo disk. This was a film /made/ for VistaVision ("Motion Picture High Fidelity") -- the scenery alone is worth the price of admission. * One critic suggested that it's touching Debbie that causes his transformation. He can't bring himself to kill the flesh-and-blood being he knew as a child. It also appears to be one of the first to make a stab at proper cowboy attire. Note the dusters on several characters. * Another minor problem... Kidnapped whites almost always preferred living with the Indians. Debbie's willingness to return is not implausible, but it is unlikely. ** According to the supplemental material, "The Searchers" was the first Western to show a lot of dead Indians lying around after having been massacred by whites. *** This is common in Ford's films. Did it have anything to his being blind in one eye?