Fire and Ice

Normally, I wouldn't recommend delving into the special features before you watch the movie itself, but because the second disc of Fire and Ice contains a documentary on the life of artist Frank Frazetta, I couldn't resist. And there's something Ralph Bakshi, the director of Fire & Ice, says in that documentary that set me up perfectly for the movie.

Given the realities of budget and available technology, Bakshi says there was no way that the animation could capture the rich texture of Frazetta's paintings, so he opted for the look of Frazetta's early work as a cartoonist (he ghost-illustrated "Lil' Abner" for a few years and provided artwork for a number of fantasy-themed comics) and that expectation sets you in a much more realistic frame of mind than you might be if you just came in knowing the more famous work the film's creators released during the '60s and '70s.

For one thing, it's hell of a lot less randy and far less psychedelic than the work that Bakshi had created previously...and you'd think a painter with an eye for violent action and scantily clad, beautiful women might have brought that side of Bakshi out even more. But the film is kind of hamstrung by it's heavy on gouda screenplay, written by Roy Thomas (who had previously adapted a number of Robert E Howard's "Conan" stories for Marvel comics, as well as a few fun tales of his own) and Gerry Conway, another Marvel writer. The fact that these two -- who you'd think would have a good grasp of fantasy stories -- couldn't come up with a tale that would pass muster as a half hour show, let alone an 81 minute feature, is a little surprising.

No, what we get here is an evil guy in an icy castle destroyiug the world in a way that would have George W. Bush green with envy and a family in a fiery castle who are waiting for what they think will be the big attack when the princess is kidnapped from under them by a few of the Iceman's minions. Over the course of the next hour or so, she is almost rescued a number of times by a pair of barbarian warriors who have their own beef with the icy villain. Does good triumph over evil or does the bear decide to say the heck with it and shit in the middle of the big city?

But the movement of the characters (created by filming live actors and painting animated characters over the live shots) is very fluid and the backgrounds are very nice to look at (and at times even evoke the quality of Frazetta's paintings). With what he was given, Bakshi seems to have done the best he possibly could. Watching both the documentary and listening to Bakshi's commentary more or less paints the picture that Bakshi felt that he was a hired hand and this was Frazetta's picture. This is one case where the total is less than the sum of its parts.

Still, Blue Underground does go all out for the movie, providing it with a nifty 3-D plastic slipcover that has the feel of one of Frazetta's Conan paperback covers, showcasing the film in a great looking 1.78:1 anamorphic transfer that captures the colors well (but does run into some rough patches when the animated background become streaky and the picture seems to pixillate in places).

Features on the first of the two discs include a making of (taken from Bakshi's own VHS tape, the only copy that exists), commentary by Bakshi -- who comes across as an amusing, unpretentious craftsman -- an interview with Bakshi in which he continues to rhapsodize about Frazetta, and a hysterically funny production diary by one of the actors.

The second disc contains the feature length documentary "Frazetta: Painting With Fire," which also gets a commentary track by its director (Lance Laspina, who also sits in on Bakshi's commentary track on disc one). This is a pretty thorough documentary about the painter, who may not have had as colorful a personal life as Jackson Pollock did, but I'd venture to say he has more rabid fans than Pollock does at this point. You get a good enough look at his work in the documentary to realize that I'm not entirely insane for suggesting that. -- Christopher Hyatt