William H. Clothier's framings of John Ford's The Horse Soldiers ('59) are so visually pleasing...so wonderfully balanced and lighted, not to mention staged and edited to a fare-thee-well. First-rate filmmaking from an old-time era when 1.66 was still a celebrated aspect ratio.
Login with Patreon to view this post
Three days ago Criterion laid off 16 staffers, or roughly 20% of its 80-person workforce. Peter Becker called it a “reorganization” brought about by new “challenges and opportunities." What he meant is that Criterion income has been shrinking and they have no choice but to cut back on expenses. The home-video world is changing. Physical media is dying and streaming is king. And Criterion's film-snob appeal isn't what it used to be. Hell, they're still dragging their feet in the matter of 4K Blurays.
Login with Patreon to view this post
As one who knew and even hung a couple of times with Leon Vitali, the former actor and devoted Stanley Kubrick associate throughout the ’70s, 80s and’ 90s, and as one who badgered him a few times during the Barry Lyndon aspect-ratio brouhaha of 2011, I’m very sorry to hear that he’s passed.
I loved Filmworker, Tony Zierra‘s 2017 documentary about Leon and his historic life. I’ll probably watch it again tonight.
Leon was a fine fellow and a true believer. He understood hardcore devotion as well as anyone I’ve ever known in this racket has.
Longtime HE readers will recall the Barry Lyndon aspect ratio contretemps, which ranged between 5.23.11 and 6.21.11. Retained by Warner Home Video as a technical consultant on a spate of Kubrick Blurays, Vitali insisted that the WHV Lyndon Bluray be issued at 1.77:1 rather than 1.66:1, an a.r. previously adopted when WHV released the 1975 classic on laser disc.
I hit the roof when I read about this. I argued, howled, seethed.
Then Glenn Kenny posted a 12.8.75 “smoking gun” letter, leaked by Jay Cocks and written by Kubrick and sent to U.S. exhibitors. It stated that Barry Lyndon had been shot in 1.66 and should ideally be projected this way.
The Lyndon debate was of the most bitterly fought and not incidentally triumphant a.r. battles in Hollywood Elsewhere history, the other being the Shane a.r. battle of 2013.
Having missed the Sundance ’15 debut of Robert Egger‘s The Witch, I didn’t see it until a year later. Boy, was I won over! For me, the film’s critical praise and box-office success ($40 million gross vs. $4 million budget) crystalized my understanding that elevated horror had become a thing — a respectable sub-genre as well as an assurance that not all horror films needed to be aimed at primitives.
A year earlier Jennifer Kent‘s The Babadook had defined the 21st Century template; in 2018 Kent’s The Nightingale and Ari Aster‘s Hereditary fortified things, followed in 2019 by Aster’s Midsommar.
I have this idea that elevated horror was launched by the German expressionists (Robert Wiene‘s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, F. W. Murnau‘s Nosferatu) in the early 20s. Was Val Lewton‘s Cat People the first American-made flick to suggest creeps rather than show them? The prize for the best E.H. flick of the ’60s was split between Jack Clayton‘s The Innocents (’61) and Robert Wise‘s The Haunting (’63). The most explosively popular E.H. of all time, of course, was William Friedkin‘s The Exorcist (’73).
Anyway, last night I re-watched The Witch, and this time with subtitles. From my original review: “I’m very much looking forward to the subtitle option when the Bluray comes out. Ralph Ineson, blessed with one of those magnificent deep voices with a timbre that can peel wallpaper, was the only one I fully understood on a line-for-line basis. To my ears everyone else spoke 17th-Century dithah-moundah-maaaysee-whatsah.”
Now that I’ve “read” Eggers’ script, so to speak, my respect for The Witch‘s period-authentic language is greater.
More review excerpts: “This little creeper (which was projected last night at a 1.66:1 aspect ratio!) is set on an isolated farm in 17th Century New England, when the lore of witches and sorcery was at an all-time high. I was seriously impressed by the historical authenticity and the complete submission to the superstitious mythology of evil in the early 1600s and the panicky mindset of those God-fearing Puritans who completely bought the notion that demonic evil was absolutely manifest and waiting in the thicket.
I've had it up to here with the standard narrative about The Horse Soldiers being one of John Ford's lesser efforts. I know this sounds like heresy, but it may be my favorite post-1945 Ford film. I know that She Wore A Yellow Ribbon and The Searchers and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance are widely regarded as more substantial and therefore "better", but I don't like watching them as much as The Horse Soldiers, and anyone who doesn't like that can shove it.
Login with Patreon to view this post
On 7.19 Kino Lorber will issue a 4K “special edition” Bluray of Delbert Mann‘s Marty (’55). It will include the correctly framed 1.37 version, which Kino issued in 2014, along with an 1.85 version — a political concession to the 1.85 fascists who screamed bloody murder over the boxy.
In a 7.28.14 HE post titled “Marty Is Boxy After All…Glorious!,” I included an explanation from Kino Lorber vp acquisitions and business affairs Frank Tarzi:
“We looked at [Bob Furmanek]’s research and then screened Marty at 1.85, and didn’t like what we saw,” he said. “If I cropped some of the close-up scenes down to 1.85 I would be cropping half of their face off. I could see [going with] 1.66 but I still think 1.33 is better. We got attacked on Home Theatre Forum and Facebook. I couldn’t believe the tone of [some of the posts]. For a two-week period we were being crucified.”
Tarzi says he’s “very happy” with the boxy Marty. “1.85 just would have been too severe, he believes. “We did several tests. There’s one closeup scene in which Marty’s is on the phone, asking the girl for a date…by the time the camera stops getting in tight, the face covers the whole frame. Cutting that down to 1.85 would have been incorrect.”
George Stevens: A Filmmaker's Journey ('84), an illuminating study of the legendary director of Gunga Din, A Place in The Sun, Shane, Giant and The Diary of Anne Frank, is one of my all-time favorite biographical documentaries.
Login with Patreon to view this post
If you listen to a typical 1.85 aspect-ratio fascist (i.e., a film enthusiast who has unfortunately subscribed to the movie-projection and video-mastering theology of Bob Furmanek), they'll tell you that outside of the various widescreen processes that were birthed in the '50s and early '60s, 1.85 aspect ratios became the law of the land starting in April 1953.
Login with Patreon to view this post
HE to Kino Video regarding upcoming Touch of Evil 4K Bluray (streeting on 2.22.22): As you guys presumably recall, England’s Masters of Cinema / Eureka Video released two versions of a Touch of Evil Bluray in two aspect ratios — 1.85 and 1.37 — roughly a decade ago.
A Kino Lorber spokesperson has confirmed that their forthcoming 4K version will be formatted only in 1.85.
In November 2011 Eureka Video released a Bluray of Orson Welles‘ Touch of Evil (1958) with five different versions of the film.
We’re actually talking three versions of the film, two of which are presented in both 1.37 and 1.85 aspect ratios and one (the 1958 pre-release version) presented in 1.85 only. The 1998 reconstructed version, running 112 minutes, that was put together by Walter Murch, Bob O’Neil and Bill Varney, is presented in 1.37 and 1.85.
Two aspect ratios for both versions is so hardcore, so film-nerdy…your heart goes out to people with this much devotion.
But the orange jacket-cover backdrop is, for me, a problem. To advertise a revered classic film taking place in a Mexican border town and shot in the gritty environs of Venice, California, Eureka chose one of the most needlessly intense and eye-sore-ish colors in the spectrum? A color that says traffic cones and prison jump suits?
I’ve mentioned this minor point before, but HE continues to regret Kino Lorber’s decision not to re-think the aspect ratio of its forthcoming 4K UHD version of Some Like It Hot. This will be the first time that Billy Wilder’s 1959 classic has been released in this format (3840p x 2160p). Standard Bluray resolution is 1920p x1080p, of course.
The Kino transfer will be the same beautiful version that Criterion released in November 2018, complete with their perverse decision to needlessly and nihilistically slice off the tops and bottoms of the SLIH image, which has been 1.66 since the beginning of time.
Before the handsome Criterion Bluray version came along the entire civilized world had agreed that Some Like It Hot is a 1.66 film. That included Kino Lorber itself, which released a Some Like It Hot Bluray with a 1.66:1 a.r. in May 2011.
I finally caught Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch during Telluride ’21, and there’s no question that it’s brilliant and (I mean this respectfully) oddly hateful in a chilly sort of way.
It’s a visual knockout on a shot-by-shot basis. but except for a scene or two featuring Jeffrey Wright it refuses to provide any sort of narrative tissue or emotional connection with the characters. It’s all arch attitude, snide-ironic voice-overs and deadpan expressions, and after a while it makes you intensely angry. That or your spirit wilts or you become weak in the knees.
The French Dispatch is a bullwhip immersion in hardcore, doubled-down Wes. It’s not that there’s no way “in” as much as there isn’t the slightest interest in offering any kind of common humanity element.
So much so that I began to wonder if Wes might be going through a phase vaguely similar to Jean-Luc Godard’s Marxist-Maoist revolutionary period (‘68 to ‘79). I ask because it’s a pure head-trip objet d’art — there’s no sense whatsoever that Dispatch is looking to engage on any kind of semi-accessible level, even to the extent of reaching people like me.
It’s so mannered and wry and rapid-fire ironic that it sucks the oxygen right out of your lungs.
That said, I loved the boxy (1.37:1) cinematography. I was also kind of wondering why Wes didn’t use 1.66:1 more often. (I’m actually not sure he used it at all.). It seemed to be about 85% boxy and 15% widescreen scope (2.4:1).
For me the most humanly relatable moment doesn’t involve Wright’s character. It happens, rather, during the 1968 sequence that costars Frances McDormand as a Dispatch staffer writing about the fevered climate of French student revolt. Asked if writing is a lonely, isolating profession, McDormand answers “sometimes.”
There’s no chance that anyone this fall will even flirt with the concept of Dispatch being worthy of above-the-line Oscar noms — at best it could land some for production design, costumes, makeup, editing.
- All Hail Tom White, Taciturn Hero of “Killers of the Flower Moon”
Roughly two months ago a very early draft of Eric Roth‘s screenplay for Killers of the Flower Moon (dated 2.20.17,...
More » - Dead-End Insanity of “Nomadland”
Frances McDormand‘s Fern was strong but mule-stubborn and at the end of the day self-destructive, and this stunted psychology led...
More » - Mia Farrow’s Best Performances?
Can’t decide which performance is better, although I’ve always leaned toward Tina Vitale, her cynical New Jersey moll behind the...
More »
- Hedren’s 94th
Two days ago (1.19) a Facebook tribute congratulated Tippi Hedren for having reached her 94th year (blow out the candles!)...
More » - Criminal Protagonists
A friend suggested a list of the Ten Best American Crime Flicks of the ‘70s. By which he meant films...
More » - “‘Moby-Dick’ on Horseback”
I’ve never been able to give myself over to Sam Peckinpah’s Major Dundee, a 1965 Civil War–era western, and I’ve...
More »