Electric Shadow

Lawrence of Arabia Blu-ray: November 13th

The essential info:

The new 4K digital version will start screening in theaters on the 4th of October. The 3-disc Blu-ray arrives on 13 November, with no extras listing announced yet. They scanned the 24-year-old restoration negative at 8K (the impossibly huge resolution of 8192 × 4320 pixels). This is the negative struck by restoration king Robert A. Harris back in 1988. [UPDATE 3: Robert Harris tells Jeffrey Wells the following: "It would have been far easier for Crisp to simply take one of our 65mm interpositives and scan that, but he decided that what was best for the film was to scan our neg, which was in very worn condition. With this Crisp knowingly opened a Pandora's Box, but for the betterment of the film. He's been working with those elements tirelessly for two years, and went far beyond what any studio executive would normally have done. My hat is off."]

No word of any new celluloid prints being struck.

[UPDATE 1: The Digital Bits posted about rumored new extras here, which include a featurette and an enhancement track.

UPDATE 2: Above is the first image of the box art and guts. Perhaps the fourth disc is a score CD?]

 


Full text of the freshly-arrived press release:

David Lean’s masterpiece Lawrence of Arabia returns to the big screen 50 years after its 1962 premiere in a 4K digitally-restored version of the Director’s Cut. Following its international debut at Festival Du Cannes this past May, Lawrence of Arabia will screen nationwide in a digital-only theatrical event in theaters starting October 4th.   The film will be available in a Blu-ray™ 3-disc collectible boxed set starting November 13thfrom Sony Pictures Home Entertainment. Additionally, the film will be featured for one night only on Turner Classic Movies, November 16th at 8:00PM in a television exclusive.  The U.S. premiere of the new restoration will take place in Los Angeles on July 19th with a special 4K presentation at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

Nominated for 10 Academy Awards®, winning seven, including Best Picture and Best Director and staring Best Actor nominee Peter O’Toole and Best Supporting Actor nominee Omar Sharif, the film is one of the crown jewels in the legacy of Columbia Pictures.  “We wanted to return this film to as pristine a condition as possible to honor its anniversary release,” says Grover Crisp, EVP of Asset Management, Film Restoration and Digital Mastering for SPE.  The original camera negative was scanned at 8K and the film went through a painstaking process of repairing problems inherent to the 50-year old film elements.  Using the latest digital imaging technology, the color grading and re-mastering was completed in 4K at Colorworks, Sony Pictures Entertainments’ digital intermediate facility.  “The original negative was seriously damaged in a number of ways, some problems dating from the original release and some accumulated over the years.” says Crisp.  “But, until now, we did not have the tools available to address these issues.   We think fans of the film will be as amazed as we are at the detail and resolution in the imagery captured by cinematographer Freddie Young to compliment David Lean’s immaculate direction.”

OUYA Adds Ethernet, Hardware Design Chief

Matt Helgeson at Game Informer reports:

The update introduces Muffi Ghadiali, a key member of the hardware design team, and announces an important change to the hardware design.

The OUYA is a Kickstarter-backed Android OS game console that is very aggressively set for a March 2013 release at a $99 price point.

Their initial goal was $950k. With 21 days left, they're now at over $5 million, with 40,000 backers.

Yet another box to connect to your TV. What does it fully replace and make redundant, or is it a box in search of a free HDMI port?

Hrmph Dark Knight Hmphmhhmppphhh

I just got out of a press screening of The Dark Knight Rises. I'll have thoughts about the film itself later on, but for now I had to get this out:

Who is it that still allows AMC to set their sound on "extra quiet" for press screenings?

What's the point of even doing these things unless the sound presentation is at least reasonably audible?

I had to lean in so far just to hear what everyone on screen was saying (not just Bane, everybody) that by the end of the movie, I had pushed my head through the screen and halfway into the center channel speaker. Nothing was more audible than a muffled mumble throughout the entire runtime.

Saying something to the press rep resulted in a microscopic uptick in the sound volume. AMC wouldn't dare blast their speakers at acceptable operating levels, since that might requirte them to...I don't know...give a good goddamn?

The worst thing about this is that we freeloading critic-types didn't get unique treatment. This is how most mass-market moviegoers will hear the movie, or rather, not hear The Dark Knight Rises.

If Christopher Nolan or Thomas Tull had been there this morning, the projection and/or management staff would all be jobless. If anyone still cared in the mass-market ehibition business, it never would have happened in the first place.

Rotten Dark Knights of Fandom

Regarding fan outrage taking the form of death threats and other violence here's Devin Faraci, reporting at Badass Digest yesterday:

Rotten Tomatoes was forced to go to tweet a reminder that any commenters who broke their basic terms of service (which I'm sure include things like 'Don't make death threats') would be banned from the site. That they would feel the need to do this only hours after the first negative reviews hit shows the force of the onslaught. There are thousands of hate comments still standing, with many having been deleted by a surely overworked moderator.

Since originally posting, he's issued an update that Rotten Tomatoes has disabled commenting in advance of instituting a Facebook-backed, anti-anonymity system.

It's terrible that fandom has devolved into this sort of statistic-obsession, rather than the fandom-positive nature it once had.

Amazon Optimal Prime

I'd missed this. Farhad Manjoo, reporting last week at Slate:

If Amazon can send me stuff overnight for free without a distribution center nearby, it’s not hard to guess what it can do once it has lots of warehouses within driving distance of my house. Instead of surprising me by getting something to me the next day, I suspect that, over the next few years, next-day service will become its default shipping method on most of its items. Meanwhile it will offer same-day service as a cheap upgrade. For $5 extra, you can have that laptop waiting for you when you get home from work. Wouldn’t you take that deal?

As hard as it was for me to find Blu-rays today in a city as cine-centric as Austin...this would be the death knell. I don't know that I would drive across town if I could have it at my door tomorrow morning.

Dignity, Always Dignity

Taken in my living room with my Nikon D7000. This is my Blu-ray screen capture solution until I can do them directly via computer.

The new 60th Anniversary Blu-ray of Singin' in the Rain features a clean, crisp HD image that properly honors one the most beautiful (and best) motion pictures of all time. The increase in detail from digital cleanup does not diminish grain authenticity or the texture of items on screen. Contrast remains consistent throughout the film, with rich black tones alongside lush, bright colors without diminishing either. What some may perceive as softness in the picture is simply how Technicolor films of the period looked.

It bothers me that the only English track is the 5.1 surround sound mix, as marvelous as it is. Keep in mind that I'm one among very few who like listening to things in the "archaic" configuration in which it was originally released, so this isn't a dealbreaker. Beggars can't be choosers, so I'm glad that the single choice I was given was one that requires no adjustment throughout the entire viewing experience.

Singin' in the Rain is a movie whose plot turns on the introduction of a revolutionary filmmaking technology. Even if the story and music didn't hold up, that we find ourselves in a similar transitional period with technology (digital production and high frame rates) reminds us that the movie is just as relevant today. One could argue that it's even more directly relevant today than the year it was released (1952), almost a quarter century after the move to sound. Color had recently been introduced, but that wasn't as big of a sea change as the beginning of talkies.

The beautiful picture and sound, as well as the reasonable ongoing price point for the single-disc version, make this a Top Shelf Disc.


Blu-grade Advice


Buyer A
To those with $75 to burn and no DVD version of the movie so far: go ahead and grab the big chocolate box full of paper reproductions, a photo book, and an umbrella. It also includes the exact Special Edition discs that were released previously.

Buyer B
To those who want the most economical way to get the Blu-ray and all the extra on-disc features: find the 2-disc Special Edition as cheap as you can used and grab the single-disc Blu-ray for $14.

Buyer C
To those who already have the two-disc DVD Special Edition from a few years ago: do not get rid of it.

If you then get the single-Blu-ray version that Amazon is selling for $14, you gain the only new on-disc features contained in the massive mega-box: the movie in HD plus a new 50-minute fluff documentary.


The New


Singin' in the Rain: Raining on a New Generation (~50 minutes)
This nearly-hourlong talking head festival features loads of professionals who have been inspired by the movie or Gene Kelly himself. The first face is Broadway pro Matthew Morrison, who just so happens to play the teacher on Glee. He's joined by a pile of choreographers, directors, historians, and performers including Paula Abdul, Adam Shankman, Rob Marshall, Rudy Behlmer, Corbin Bleu, Usher Raymond, and Baz Luhrmann.

Not much of substance is discussed here, even by the historians. This featurette exists in the hope that a marketing piece aimed at The Glee Generation (for lack of a better term) will help move copies.


The Old


The commentary with Debbie Reynolds, Donald O'Connor, Cyd Charisse, Kathleen Freeman, Stanley Donen, Betty Comden and Adolph Green (together), Baz Luhrmann, and Rudy Behlmer.

The "Jukebox" (jump to specific songs)

The trailer (still in SD)

Blu-grade and Top Shelf Discs

For years, all of my Blu-ray posts have been designed to help make a comparative decision as to whether the double-dip (or sometimes first release) of a title is worth your money.

While guesting on an episode of The CriterionCast, I coined the term "Blu-grade" (I think) to describe the process of a title arriving on (or making a repeat appearance) on the HD format of kings. Some are true upgrades, while some are terribly lackluster, and yet others are so light on any compelling incentive to re-purchase that I want to shout it from the rooftops as soon as possible.

All posts in this category will include comparative data in addition to my verdict on whether it's worth it or not so that you can make your decision based on a composite measurement as you see fit.

All these posts (past, present, and future) are now tagged Blu-grade and linked in the sidebar site-wide.

Your Top Shelf is where your best and favorite things sit. Top Shelf Discs is a new recurring category on Arthouse Cowboy that is designed to give special recognition to the best of the best in the realm of physical media.

Even if it isn't packed with extras, or the surviving film elements do not allow a crystal-clear and flawless restoration, these are the best Blu-rays and DVDs (yes, DVDs) out there. They are the ones I find to be most worth your time and money in an age when both of those resources are in decline for many of us.

I'll be digging back into my archives and adding titles I've reviewed extensively in the past to this listing too. Watch for that.

You can also find all Top Shelf Discs posts in the sidebar as well.

Archived posts in all categories need a generous amount of reformatting work that will progress as I am able.

(While I was at it, I also threw in a link for Criterion Collected, my ongoing series of articles about Criterion.)

In related news, my review of the Singin' in the Rain Blu-ray is imminent.

Finding Today's Blus on Shelves

I spent about three times longer than I assumed I would tracking down today's Blu-ray releases at brick and mortar outlets here in Austin. Here's a cheat sheet for the titles I was after, in case other Austinites are looking for the same stuff.

Fry's Electronics
Mean Streets: $9.99

Waterloo Records
Singin' in the Rain ($17.99 single disc version)
High Noon ($23.99, available Thursday)
Invasion of the Body Snatchers 1956 ($23.99, available Thursday)
American Masters: Johnny Carson, King of Late Night ($24.99)

Barnes & Noble
Singin' in the Rain ($17.99 single disc version)
Down By Law ($19.99 Criterion Collection Blu-ray)

That's right, the Blu-ray debut of one of the greatest films of all time, Singin' In the Rain, is unavailable at Best Buy, Target, and Walmart.

I went to Best Buy and left completely empty-handed. They had none of the above titles, with Singin' marked as "online-only".

Best Buy does have a retailer-exclusive version of Get the Gringo that includes a half hour of additional extras not found on the standard edition. In the interest of full disclosure, I produced the premiere event for Gringo a few months ago here in Austin.

"Ask Christopher Nolan if he would mind if you text during the opening weekend of THE DARK KNIGHT RISES"

The Wrap's Chris Davison wrote an idiotic editorial encouraging cinema chains to create texting-friendly shows. The National Association of Theater Owners email blasted it to its entire membership, including my friend and Alamo Drafthouse CEO Tim League. He wrote an open letter in response:

The only answer to this debate is taking a hard line.  Texting and talking can not be allowed in movie theaters.  Our spaces are sacred spaces for movie fans.  Chris Davison, you are wrong.  NATO, you should add commentary to Davison's article before blasting to the entire membership.  You do this for the trend in shrinking VOD/theatrical windows.  To me, the leniency towards talking and texting is a greater threat to our industry.

The crux of the argument is in that closer. Ruining the theatrical experience for more people by endorsing bad behavior encourages less return business, period.

Criterion Collected: October 2012 Release Slate

Here are October's Criterion releases, one per week I might add. Modify your household budget accordingly.

2 October 2012
#147
In the Mood for Love 
(dir. Wong Kar-wai, 2000)
Blu-ray Upgrade

The theatrical poster for this Wong Kar-wai film hangs in my office. It has been one of my most-desired HD upgrades since Criterion started releasing Blu-rays, with the initial run including his Chungking Express. A sumptuous romantic film, the artistry of the images onscreen match the fire of the emotions at play.

The Blu-ray adds some features (Two new interviews with critic Tony Rayns, one about the film and the other about the soundtrack) and deletes some (The music of In the Mood for Love, presented in an interactive essay//Essay by film scholar Gina Marchetti illuminating the film’s unique setting//Photo gallery//Biographies of key cast and crew). The booklet has changed too. All variances are in bold below.

Supplemental features (note the change in booklet contents for the Blu):

  • High-definition digital restoration, approved by cinematographer Mark Lee Ping-bin, with 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
  • @ “In the Mood for Love,” director Wong Kar-wai’s documentary on the making of the film
  • Deleted scenes with director’s commentary
  • Hua yang de nian hua (2000), a short film by Wong
  • Archival interview with Wong and a “cinema lesson” given by the director at the 2001 Cannes Film Festival
  • Toronto International Film Festival press conference from 2000, with stars Maggie Cheung Man-yuk and Tony Leung Chiu-wai
  • Trailers and TV spots
  • The music of In the Mood for Love, presented in an interactive essay, on the DVD edition
  • Essay by film scholar Gina Marchetti illuminating the film’s unique setting on the DVD edition
  • Photo gallery on the DVD edition
  • Biographies of key cast and crew on the DVD edition
  • Two new interviews with critic Tony Rayns, one about the film and the other about the soundtrack, on the Blu-ray edition
  • Plus: A booklet featuring the Liu Yi-chang story that provided thematic inspiration for the film, an essay by film critic Li Cheuk-to, and a director’s statement (DVD edition); a booklet featuring an essay by novelist and film critic Steve Erickson and the Liu Yi-chang story that provided thematic inspiration for the film (Blu-ray edition) 

9 October 2012
Eclipse Series 36
Three Wicked Melodramas from Gainsborough Pictures

The Man in Grey (dir. Leslie Arliss, 1943)
Madonna of the Seven Moons (dir. Arthur Crabtree, 1945)
The Wicked Lady (dir. Leslie Arliss, 1943)

Mainstream British cinema of the 1940's moved away from melodrama with the exception of one studio who let their camp flag fly. Criterion has chosen three of their best-known films, all of which were quite successful. This came despite the trend toward realism in films like those found in the recent David Lean Directs Noël Coward boxed set.

Included here are James Mason's breakthrough performance (Man in Grey), one of the most over-the-top films of the era (Madonna, a personal favorite melodrama), and Margaret Lockwood as a loose woman archetype who steals her BFF's man (Wicked Lady). Oh no they didn't? Oh yes they did. I can't wait.

16 October 2012
#628
The Foregiveness of Blood
 (dir. Joshua Marston, 2011)

An Albanian family is torn apart by a blood feud, a tradition that allows a family to avenge the killing of a relative by killing one of the murderer's relatives. The story is told about not the violent act that ignites the events of the story, but the repercussions and aftermath.

Director Marston (a talented American indie guy) shot on location in Albania, had the full endorsement of the Albanian government, and shot the whole thing in Albanian. Marston previously directed Maria Full of Grace. With Foregiveness, he recently lost a battle to get it considered (let alone nominated) by the Academy for Best Foreign Language Film, a story recounted on a recent episode of KCRW's The Business.

The extras would appear to flesh out what interests me most: the real-life events and culture that the narrative is taken from. Whether you enjoy the movie or not, the process behind an ambitious, ballsy production approach like this is fascinating.

Supplemental features:

  • New high-definition digital transfer, approved by producer Paul Mezey, with 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
  • Audio commentary featuring director and cowriter Joshua Marston
  • Two new video programs: Acting Close to Home, a discussion between Marston and actors Refet Abazi, Tristan Halilaj, and Sindi Laçej, and Truth on the Ground, featuring new and on-set interviews with Mezey, Abazi, Halilaj, and Laçej
  • Audition and rehearsal footage
  • Trailer
  • PLUS: A booklet featuring an essay by film writer Oscar Moralde

23 October 2012
#629
Sunday Bloody Sunday
(dir. John Schlesinger, 1971)

First reported by my pal Ryan at CriterionCast months and months and months ago, this title is finally here. I can imagine it took some time for them to nail down the five new interviews on the disc. I prefer an abundance of Criterion's interviews to a commentary track any day of the week.

Supplemental features:

  • New high-definition digital restoration, supervised by director of photography Billy Williams, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
  • New video interviews with actor Murray Head, Williams, and production designer Luciana Arrighi
  • Illustrated 1975 audio interview with director John Schlesinger
  • New interview with writer William J. Mann (Edge of Midnight: The Life of John Schlesinger) about the making of Sunday Bloody Sunday
  • New interview with photographer Michael Childers, Schlesinger’s longtime partner
  • Trailer
  • PLUS: A booklet featuring a new essay and screenwriter Penelope Gilliatt’s 1971 introduction to the film’s screenplay

October 30th 2012
#634
Rosemary's Baby
 (dir. Roman Polanski, 1968)
*Release of the Month* 

Polanski's wildly successful Hollywood debut finally gets the HD treatment that collectors have wanted for some time.

If there is a single better Blu-ray extra this year than a "new interview with producer Robert Evans", I'll eat my hat. That it's alongside new interviews with Polanski and Mia Farrow is a coup. This disc looks like it could be one of the best of 2012, pound for pound.

Supplemental features:

  • New high-definition digital restoration, approved by director Roman Polanski, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
  • New interviews with Polanski, actor Mia Farrow, and producer Robert Evans
  • Komeda, Komeda, a feature-length documentary on the life and work of jazz musician and composer Krzysztof Komeda, who wrote the score for Rosemary’s Baby
  • 1997 radio interview with author Ira Levin from Leonard Lopate’s WNYC program New York and Company on the 1967 novel, the sequel, and the film
  • PLUS: A booklet featuring an essay by critic Ed Park and Levin’s afterword for the 2003 New American Library edition of his novel, in which he discusses its and the film’s origins

 

Odd is the jump from #629 to #634. Where are #630, #631, #632, and #633? This isn't some sort of scandal or anything, and I doubt we'll ever know what the deal is, but it's fun to speculate for oneself. (UPDATE 6pm:Ryan at CriterionCast has one bit of speculation that's floating around...Pasolini's Trilogy of Life)

Godzilla and Pacific Rim Destroy Hall H

By the grace of one of the guys at Legendary, I just got into the Warner Bros panel in Hall H. I missed the PACIFIC RIM footage presentation, but got in for the Q&A. Hearing Guillermo del Toro sincerely, passionately connecting with a fan is always a wonderful sight to behold.

Then they showed a clip from Gareth Edwards' GODZILLA, and I'm happy to admit that I wept openly. If PACIFIC RIM blew everyone's minds, this is going to disintegrate them. The director of MONSTERS was the right choice. More to come in an Ain't It Cool writeup.

48fps is Charlie Chaplin's Fault (Sort Of)

 

Is it me, or do we forget innumerable progressive achievements throughout the history of cinema?

This is especially the case with the discussion of High Frame Rate photography and exhibition. Most of the chatter has centered around the pending release of The Hobbit at 48 frames per second, a rate that doubles the standard accepted for over 75 years. Some would say this is a cheap gimmick, or even a nefarious plot of some sort by the studios and billionaire directors and the Illuminati and Xenu and Stalin.

Let's back up and take a cleaner, less sensational look at things, Spider-friends.

What we consider to be "cinema" runs at 24 still image frames per second in front of our eyes. In the days of silent films, they ran at 16-18 frames per second. The difference in the number of frames is what makes our association with what "old" movies look like at a glance. The jumpy, jerky look of silents is unmistakeable. To some, it causes instant revulsion, as it connotes something that they refuse to watch, whether for dissimilarity to what they're accustomed or out of perceived inferiority. If only those many knew what they were missing out on, but that's another column for another day.

The more frames, the smoother the image, and the more pleasing to the eye. The mandatory move to 24 frames was due to the soundtrack for sound films needing those additional frames to properly sync. Instead of 60 feet of film going through the projector per second, 90 feet hurtled through, assaulting early 20th century eyes with a more fluid, luxurious picture than they thought possible. They probably would have done more frames per second, but they ran the risk of the projectors shredding the film. The use of 30 frames per second was right at the bleeding edge in the early days, but it would only come into mainstream use later, predominantly in videotape-based photography (think of BBC teledramas like I, Claudius, or modern Asian soap operas).

The 24 fps flicker effect is what we came to associate with the cinematic aesthetic. It was a warm balance between the real world and the still life of individual frames, but not too far in either direction.

The problem of celluloid tearing itself apart in the projector assembly is no longer a problem in the digital age, where most film exhibition is (lamentably) done off of hard drives. The elimination of this limitation led tech nerd, pro-3D directors like James Cameron, Peter Jackson, and various others to decree a push toward 48, 60, and even 120 frames per second cinema.

Even before these directors and digital, brilliant minds like Roger Ebert and Douglas Trumbull advocated exhibition processes like Maxivision 48 (Ebert) and ShowScan (Trumbull). Processes like these required loads of equipment upgrades in principal photography and in the exhibition world, and from what I've read, it would appear that the death of their widespread adoption was that neither end of the business wanted to move first and risk that the other end wouldn't come through. Both processes benefitted from radically improved clarity and as a result, focal depth. Your eyes had less work to do when they were supplied with all of that additional visual stimuli, and the work of a master cinematographer could simply wash over you.

Fast forwarding back to the recent past, the CinemaCon announcements from Cameron, Jackson, and company a couple of years ago riled many cinema fans who speculated that they were somehow shoving something down our throats. What could be characterized as innovative, pioneering filmmakers touting bold new experiments was instead met with suspicion and the sharpening of pitchforks.

Many lashed out at the "profiteering millionaires" in controlled bursts when feature articles or interviews mentioning the topic would pop up. The simmering rolled to a full boil following the screening of 48fps footage from The Hobbit at CinemaCon three months ago.

I was part of the flood of those reactions, and at the time, I had mixed feelings about the whole thing. I remain leaning toward the hopeful side, even with the announcement that tomorrow's Hobbit presentation will only feature footage in 24fps.

I'm not bothered at all by that decision. My educated guess is that they don't want to make the mistake once again of showing the unfinished, unrepresentative version of a very different cinematic aesthetic to a room full of people predisposed toward hypercriticism. I think that is very wise. The biggest issues I had with the CinemaCon demo was that the virtually finished (color corrected, filtered, etc), fuller sequences that played like scenes actually worked great for me. The bits that played like traditional sizzle reel stuff played against the benefits of the tech they were showing off. It's crazy not to show off a new technological product in the properly curated, finished-quality form for which it is designed. This is the same as composing a movie for 3D if it is to be released in 3D, from boarding to shooting and editing. This is why movies like Hugo and Prometheus look so outstanding in 3D: the right work was done, soup to nuts.

I look forward to Warner Bros hopefully doing something like those Avatar Days that Fox did, where people could get their eyes wet with Avatar's overwhelming (in the good way) 3D. The portions of that Hobbit reel that worked really left the room speechless. I can only imagine what the right 20 minutes would do to the skeptical, including an undetermined quantity of holdout theatre owners.

Since that morning in April, I haven't had the opportunity to watch any more HFR content, but I have thought a great deal about it.

Any time I've watched a movie or TV show, I notice motion blur and strobing more actively than I did previously. The effect of eye strain when watching both 2D and 3D content has become infinitely more pronounced. In recent interviews I've conducted, I've made a point to ask visual artists their thoughts about HFR. I find that most of their opinions are optimistic and curious. Pietro Scalia (editor on both Prometheus and The Amazing Spider-Man) sounded very eager to play with it when we spoke in Aruba a couple of weeks ago. He saw it as a new set of tools to play with, not a mandate.

The audience, it would appear, is much more anxious and unsettled by the idea of change than the people whose livelihoods it immediately affects. I may be overreaching there, but from the limited sampling I've done, the artists want to jump in that sandbox.


There's something to be said for trying new things in the cinema. In the past, doing so has brought us sound and color, along with countless other advances in the photographic process. We've gotten marvelous things like deep focus, large-format exposure (70mm, 4K), and visual effects.

Those special effects have gone from miniatures and matte paintings to in-camera optical tricks to computer-generated composite wizardry, and all sorts of things in-between, including stereographic 3D. It is not universally a good thing, but like all visual effects, it's all in the application.

It took me until last week to realize that the sorts of things we find ourselves thinking are brand-new bastardizations or perversions of the art have been around for decades.

 

 

While combing through Criterion's recent Blu-ray release of Chaplin's The Gold Rush, I realized that, in a way, the push toward HFR and upconverting to the higher standard started 70 years ago. Believe it or not, Chaplin made a decision tantamount to George Lucas' discarding of the original theatrical editions of the original Star Wars trilogy.

The Gold Rush was first released in 1925. It was an enormous hit, and made tons of money. By the time he released The Great Dictator in 1940, even Chaplin, the holdout, had embraced the onset of talkies. The notion of repertory screenings of movies after their original run was a new idea gaining traction, but in 1940, no one would dare release a silent film. Chaplin therefore recut Gold Rush, removing all of the title cards and adding narration and dialogue that were performed as if he were telling the story and there just happened to be images to go along with it. It's the style that the Fractured Fairy Tales cartoons ripped off wholesale (and quite successfully).

The addition of sound required the film to be sped up to 90 feet or 24 frames per second. When all was said and done, the movie was 16 minutes longer, featured various alternate takes or reshoots entirely, post-converted to 24fps, and added a completely different mood to the picture as part of the added soundtrack. From that point, and for the rest of his life, Chaplin would consider the 1942 version his definitive cut.

So naturally, he destroyed every copy of the 1925 version that he had or could find. He "pulled a George Lucas" before there was a George Lucas to accuse of that.

The story of how the 1925 version was miraculously salvaged and restored is told in featurettes on the Blu-ray, but suffice to say that from 1942 until 1993, no one could have seen the original classic film. When the restoration was completed in 1993, Chaplin's children made it clear that they only allowed the reconstructed version to be completed as a curiosity for the sake of historical record.

I know I'm not alone when I say that I'm very, very glad that they did the right thing. I prefer the 1942 version, and it's the one that I rewatch most often, but I don't know if that's because I objectively prefer it...or because it's the one that I always knew until the 2003 DVD allowed me to see both versions. For new viewers, I would unquestionably urge them to see the '25 and then the '42.

When I contemplated '25 vs. '42 the other day, I think I would have still preferred the one that could justifiably be called a post-converted, re-imagined bastardization.

I wonder how the final products of refined HFR cinema will fare with the audience, both the natively-shot and possible "up-conversions". I wonder if we'll see the same effect that happened with Gold Rush. I wonder if filmmakers will adopt a mixed approach, using an adapted "Variable Frame Rate" methodology (ok, Tony Scott has been doing that for years).

I'm just glad that we're still trying new things, and that more amazing advances could still be on the horizon.

Sage Stallone: Gone Too Young

Drew McWeeny, as is often the case, remembers someone notable in a tender, curious and above all respectful way:

I never got a chance to see the short he directed five or six years ago, and I hadn't seen him or spoken to him in probably a decade when I heard the news today.  I was immediately hit by a wave of regret, because I always assumed I'd have a chance to reconnect with him at some point.  He was one of those guys who could pick up a conversation years later like no time had passed, and who always seemed to be getting one step closer to figuring out his place in the world.

Sage Stallone was 36.

Westbound

Since I haven't really slept since the beginning of Thursday, this counts as my promised daily entry.

I've spent the whole day preparing to leave for something of a surgical strike on San Diego Comic-Con (my first time!). I'm managing/co-hosting an Ain't It Cool News screening of Solomon Kane tonight (Friday, 9:15pm), and one for Lawless tomorrow (Saturday, 11:59pm). People will definitely flake out, so if you're in San Diego, badged or not, come on down per the info in the linked posts.

Later today: a Criterion Collected post about what Charlie Chaplin has in common with George Lucas. Maybe another, we'll see. Also later today (hopefully), Monty Cristo's Musings #2 over at Ain't It Cool.

A Bygone Breed

I introduced my wife to The Last Boy Scout last night, since she enjoyed her first look at the Lethal Weapon series so much. We blew through that two-years-delayed Blu-ray collection a few weeks ago. I grew up on action movies (both the excellent ones like Boy Scout and the direct to video diaspora). As much as I remember the best ones fondly, I find that I haven't rewatched many of my favorites in years and years. Things like that run through my head when I'm in front of the $5/$6/$7/$8 Blu-ray rack/bin/table at the store. I wish there were some sort of extras at all for this movie and others like it (commentary, featurette, whatever), but alas, the new concept of an "extra feature" is a second movie like Last Man Standing. HOnestly, if the "extra is an underappreciated Walter Hill movie I've only seen on cable...maybe that just as good, if not better.

Regarding Comments, Attribution, and Search Boxes

Last thing first: in about 15 seconds, I added a search box to every page of the site. This is thanks to the magic of my hosting and CMS solution. This has been a dream so far. If only I could batch edit posts...

For the longest time, Arthouse Cowboy didn't have commenting enabled because the Movable Type backend of Hollywood Elsewhere was too delicate a thing for me to monkey with very much for fear of incurring the wrath of El Jefe Jeff. I liked not having to comb through the loads of comment spam that Jeff would deal with every day on the site's front page. I liked just posting my stuff. Then I added comments to every post, and I felt like some posts (like this one) felt lonely with no comments.

I decided that I want to selectively enable/disable comments on a post-by-post basis relative to the content. In particular, when I post links to other sites, appending a little commentary of my own, I may disable in the interest of driving you to that other site to comment on the conversation.

That reminds me of how much I hate that most of the movie/TV/entertainment writing out there is just crass aggregation at this point.

I coined "The Blogger Centipede" as the name for a SXSW panel that I was supposed to moderate a couple of years ago. The whole reason I wanted to do the thing was to dig into how the entertainment blogging game has turned into a first-to-post, fastest-to-repost, ULTRA-MEGA-EXCLUSIVE race that drives me and many others nuts.

Many "major" sites across the net are virtually undistinguishable and lack an individual voice that was once their pride and selling point. They may have enormous traffic numbers, but those stats can be a very fleeting thing. Say what you will about Harry at Ain't It Cool, but his site and his posts still carry his unmistakable mark.

To this day, I get ragged on by colleagues for ever having written at Hollywood Elsewhere, their hatred of Jeff Wells is so great. Whatever differences of opinion or personality incompatibilities people (myself included at times) may have with him, he never pretends to be anyone but Jeff Wells.

I wish we valued individuality the way that we once did. I wish it weren't considered acceptable practice to paraphrase someone else's story, citing unnamed "sources" (when actually swiping the story), and then include a nearly-invisible attribution link at the bottom.

That last thing happened in a pretty high-profile way the other day when Instapaper creator Marco Arment caught and reported a massive iOS App Store corruption bug and reported it on his site, Marco.org. Countless major tech news sites ripped him off, and dear dark lord Cthulu...he called every single one of them on it on Twitter (example). He discusses the whole App Store corruption thing on this week's episode of Build and Analyze, a show I listen to every week.

There was a time when I tried to shoehorn my content into the various shapes that were popular or successful on every other site on the net. It was always too much work for content about which I cared so little that I hated doing this thing that I'm supposed to like.

Thanks to the couple hundred of you that have been reading since yesterday. Tell your friends if you think they'll dig what I'm doing.

Criterion Collected: 50% Off Sale at Barnes & Noble

I posted early this morning over at Ain't It Cool about the twice-annual B&N Criterion sale starting late last night. I've got some mostly-finished pieces I'll be posting here about movies like Chaplin's The Gold Rush and other recent releases from The Criterion Collection.

Here's a link that takes you to the series of Criterion posts I wrote over the years at Hollywood Elsewhere. Many others are not properly tagged. Here's the Ozu series that I started a couple of years ago and am re-starting soon. The index rolls in reverse chronology. Here's the first installment, which does a serviceable job of introducing the man. I never got to Late Spring, which recently became the first Yasujiro Ozu movie to get the Blu-ray blessing in the States.

The more I look at those, the more I want to sit down and plow into cleaning things up in focused clumps.

I-35 and The Bandit

I've driven the stretch of highway between Dallas (where I grew up) and Austin (where I've lived since 2007) more than any other in the country. I was reminded of Smokey and The Bandit the last time I drove it, wondering why no one has made a similar CG-free car chase movie designed less around style or flourish, but rather, simply about the fun of the classic auto chase.