DVD Spotlight: MGM Home Entertainment

Electra Glide in Blue

Robert Blake seems vaguely insane in pretty much every role he plays (not to mention his real life). And I mean that as a compliment. That is not to suggest that he lacks talent as an actor. At his best (In Cold Blood, Lost Highway), Blake channels his very real demons into an oddly distinctive and powerful screen presence. Arguably Blake's greatest achievement (other than being found guilty of murder), this hybrid of Serpico -- which was released in the same year -- and any number of John Wayne westerns is one of the great, forgotten films of the 70s.

Blake plays John Wintergreen, a naive, idealistic motorcycle cop who gets involved in a shady murder investigation. When he discovers the corruption of his fellow officers, Wintergreen decides to stand up and fight for what he believes in. Bad move. But good news for Robert Blake fans, as he completely amazes with his intense, partly improvised performance, not to mention his half-baked attempts at charming the ladies. If that's not enough, Electra Glide in Blue features some of the most impressive slow motion motorcycle stunts I've ever seen.

Thankfully, MGM goes way beyond the call of duty with this disc. The most I was expecting was a good transfer (which we get) and maybe a trailer but MGM also includes a commentary by writer-director James William Guercio and a lengthy introduction by Guercio. The soft spoken, one-time-only filmmaker discusses his unlikely (and brief) transition from the record industry to the film industry, his unusual collaboration with legendary cinematographer Conrad Hall -- Guercio made all the decisions for exteriors, while Hall had free reign inside -- and his vision of the film as a western. This is interesting, informative stuff. Overall, a first-rate disc for an under-appreciated gem.

Charly

Try punctuating this sentence by Charly, the title character of this forgotten 1968 classic: "That that is is that that is not is not is that it it is." Gibberish, right? More on that in a minute. Cliff Robertson won an Oscar for his moving, eccentric performance in this story of a mentally challenged man who undergoes experimental brain surgery and becomes a genius. Take this piece of idiot savant wisdom from the newly brilliant Charly: "if the plural of mouse is mice, the plural of spouse must be spice." Nope, but it should be. Anyway, romance blossoms between Charly and his special-ed teacher (the terrific Claire Bloom) and, as you might expect, complications ensue.

Whatever you do, don't let the cynics convince you that this is conventional, sentimental Oscar fare. In reality, this is a shockingly unsentimental film, a fact made obvious to anyone who watches its tragic, discomforting conclusion. Charly is something far more substantial and cinematically exciting than you're expecting. With its adventurous tone, unusual score (by sitar guru Ravi Shankar), bizarre use of split screen, and beautifully psychedelic imagery and optical effects, this is truly essential viewing. In fact, go straight to chapter 13 and watch the 60s come flooding back, even if you weren't born yet. As far as extras are concerned, there are none. By the way, here's the correct punctuation for that bizarro Charly sentence I cited earlier: "That that is, is. That that is not, is not. Is that it? It is."

Stella Dallas (1937)

Directed by King Vidor, this 1937 film features one of Barbara Stanwyck's most impressive screen performances. She plays the title character, the rough-around-the-edges wife of ultra classy and ambitious Stephen Dallas (John Boles). The happy couple has a daughter named Laurel (Anne Shirley) and quickly becomes unhappy. Frustrated with Stella's unorthodox parenting methods, Stephen abandons her and marries a polished, well-mannered widow (Barbara O'Neil). A tug-of-war over Laurel develops but with both Stephen and Stella selflessly attempting to do what's best for their daughter. Unfortunately, Laurel doesn't know that her mother is a Barbara Stanwyck character. If she did, she'd know that, no matter how nice a Stanwyck character seems, she's always capable of a cold-blooded surprise.

This pleasantly modern and enjoyable melodrama plays like a love story between mother and daughter. After all, Stanwyck was an amazingly modern actress. She doesn't put a happy face on unhappy situations and she's tremendously, lovably flawed. Like Bette Davis, Stanwyck was great at playing irritated, bitter, practical types. Unlike Stanwyck's famous work in Double Indemnity, though, there's also a great deal of vulnerability in this performance: her character is also oddly compassionate, loving, and giving. Of all her roles, this was Stanwyck's favorite (that's an MGM "Fact From the Vault") and it's not difficult to see why. It's a true "woman's picture" and, like all great films of this kind, it's one with respect, not pity, for women. If you're not afraid to dip into the 30s, this is a good place to start. Again, no extras.

Come and Get It

Another tale of ambition and abandonment. Barney Glasgow is a lumberman who leaves his true love Lotta Morgan for his boss' daughter, Emma Louise. Barney makes a fortune clear-cutting forests and, years later, returns to visit his friend Swan who married Lotta after Barney left. In the intervening years, Lotta died but she is survived by a daughter (also named Lotta) who looks exactly like Lotta looked when Barney left, years earlier. Barney develops a crush on Lotta Jr. but this is frowned upon by everyone, including Barney's son...who also has a crush on Lotta II. Yes, the plot's really that complicated.

Talk about a tag team made in heaven. Come and Get It is co-directed by powerhouse filmmakers Howard Hawks and William Wyler (a third director, Richard Rosson, directed the "logging scenes"). It also features high profile actors Joel McCrea and Frances Farmer (in a dual role). But is it any good? Not really. It's certainly worth checking out if you're interested in any of the aforementioned legends -- it's the film that made Farmer a star -- and there are some good moments but the script is chaotic, disorganized, and all-over-the-map. It also has the kind of 30s creakiness that might wrongly steer people clear of superior films from the era like Stella Dallas. The only extra here is a theatrical trailer.

Arrowsmith

Based on a Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Sinclair Lewis -- MGM "Fact From the Vault": "Sinclair Lewis did not accept the Pullitzer Prize he won for this novel, saying that awards made writers 'safe, polite, obedient, and sterile.'" -- about the ambitious Dr. Arrowsmith (all these movies are about ambition, aren't they?) who leaves his small town for the big opportunities of the big city. Conducting research at the McGurk Institute in New York, Dr. Arrowsmith runs into all kinds of problems, culminating in a plague outbreak that he must help stop.

Like Come and Get It, this is a bit all-over-the-map and schizophrenic. We get big city humor and excitement, plague-infested despair and pretty much everything in between. At the same time, Arrowsmith is significantly more entertaining than Come and Get It and it has all the cinematic grace that John Ford would later come to be known for. If you like the master's films, by all means, check this out. Even way back in 1931 (this was one of his first talkies), he had a rock solid idea what he was doing behind the camera. And yes, believe it or not, this is another extra-free disc.

A NOTE ABOUT AUDIO/VIDEO: The anamorphic widescreen transfers for Electra Glide in Blue and Charly (both 2.35:1) look relatively pristine, while retaining the distinctiveness of each film's visual style. The three titles from the 30s also look surprisingly good, all presented in their original 1.33:1. The dialogue is occasionally difficult to decipher in Arrowsmith and Come and Get It but, all things considered, the a/v is quite good.