Showing posts with label BFI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BFI. Show all posts

The Stone Tape On Disc

Admittedly, the upgrade potential was low for this one.  Nigel Kneale's The Stone Tape was shot entirely on, appropriately, tape.  But I've still been eagerly awaiting the day I could replace my DVD with a blu, and this Christmas, we got it.  101 Films has released a fancy, boxed special edition, as part of their Black Label series.
One of the treats of a Kneale story is that the pseudoscience isn't just meaningless exposition to rush through as quickly as possible to justify your set pieces; it's fascinating material to enjoy in its own right.  The debate here over whether a ghost is self aware, and thus presumably trapped in perpetual self torment, is a sad, relatable notion on its own terms, not just the motivation needed to push the drama between the main characters along.  Another trademark Kneale quality is his rich, witty ensemble casts.  The Quatermass serials may be titled "Quatermass," but he's always got a team of strong characters who contribute just as much, sometimes more, to the resolution of the story.  And those qualities are never stronger than they are here, one of his best works, and a sort of off-brand Ghost Story for Christmas (it's a ghost story, made for the BBC and aired on Christmas, but lacks the official on-screen branding).
The BFI first released The Stone Tape on DVD in 2001.  It was then reissued by 101 Films in 2013, both as a stand-alone and a double-bill with Ghostwatch.  Now, in the case of Ghostwatch, 101 rather notoriously dropped all the extras from BFI's special edition, so the prevailing wisdom was to stay away from the 101 disc.  But that's not the case with The Stone Tape, which retained BFI's excellent commentary.  And now 101's is the definitive release with their new blu-ray, a packed special edition released in a fancy boxed limited edition as part of their Black Label series.  Oh, and all of this is in the UK.  Here in the US, we just had a not necessarily official, barebones DVD from Sinister Cinema.
2001 BFI DVD top; 2024 101 Films BD bottom.
As I said up top, unlike the other Ghost Stories for Christmas, The Stone Tape was shot on tape (no, not even the exteriors, as the BBC often split their productions, a la Fawlty Towers, Monty Python, etc).  Consequently, I wasn't expecting any revelations from seeing this arrive on blu.  101 even asks, right on the back of the case, that we "please approach the technical quality of this upscale with empathy."  Yeah, upscale.  So is this just the DVD with less compression noise?  No, there are some differences, starting with the aspect ratio.  BFI's disc was 1.27:1 and 101's is a more correct sounding 1.35:1.  But it's not just a little vertical pinch being fixed.  101 actually mattes it down a little, and crops a sliver off he right-hand side, so we've actually got a little less picture now... yay?  Well, hopefully we can trust 101 that it was always supposed to be framed a little tighter.
What else is different?  Well, the blu is a bit brighter, particularly in the shadows.  That might be an attempt to bring a little detail out of this very detail-free footage.  But if it is, I don't think it does; so it's more of just a slum, arbitrary distinction.  Is there any definitive improvement?  Yes.  The colors seem to bleed slightly less.  And both discs are interlaced (broadcast television tape?  There was never going to be anything they could do about that), but if you look closely, you'll see the combing is a finer, and therefore less destructive to the root image, on the blu.  And yes, there is slightly less compression noise.  That might almost make the film look too smooth at first glance, since there's such a lack of detail inherent to the source.  But no, we don't actually want any video noise cluttering up the picture.

101 also bumps the original mono track up to lossless LPCM, and theirs is the first release to throw in optional English subtitles.
But the big victory comes in the special features.  BFI just had one, but pretty great, special feature: an audio commentary with Nigel Kneale, in discussion with Kim Newman, who proves to be the absolutely ideal moderator to get Kneale talking, informed and curious.  They do a good job staying focused on what's on screen, though they also take a couple interesting detours into subjects like Kneale's issues with Halloween 3 and what his Creature From the Black Lagoon film with John Landis was going to be like.  But apart from some text stuff, that was it.

Again, 101 keeps the commentary, but they've added a whole lot more.  First is an expert commentary.  I was wary, but they knew their stuff and were lively without being jokey or otherwise annoying.  They have a video essay by Kneale's biographer, which also exceeded my expectations.  It's shot a little weird, but he's got the goods, hangs around the island Kneale grew up and even includes some recording of an exclusive interview with the man.  The same biographer also turns up in 101's new documentary, which is about 45 minutes and talks some appreciators not involved with the production, like Mark Gatiss, who makes the new Christmas Ghost Stories for BBC, the producer of Ghostwatch, and two guys who made a Stone Tape radio play for the BBC in 2015.  They talk to a guy who wrote a book about folk horror, who seemed like he wasn't going to have much to add, but it turns up he did a lot of research on the science(?) behind Kneale's script and quotes some obscure sources.  But the best part is that they've got the sound recordist from the original crew (not exactly the highest rank, but uniquely relevant to this project) and star Jane Asher, who still has a lot of enthusiasm for the project.
And the swag is real with this one.  101's Limited Edition comes in a thick, hard box, with a massive 193-page reproduction of the original screenplay, another 32-page booklet with essays by Andy Murray & John Doran, three art cards, and reversible artwork for the amary case.  Sadly, however, I have to point out another set where the back paper fails Grindhouse Mike's "will it fit in the box" test.  But that's my sole, tiny gripe against this extremely welcome release of one of my favorite (non)ghost stories.

I Love The Music Lovers

For a while there, we were getting Ken Russell films on blu-ray fast and furious.  Then it slowly petered out.  But the BFI is back with another HD debut, 1971's The Music Lovers.  Hopefully, it's not a one-off.  I'd love to see blus of Dance Of the Seven Veils, Lisztomania, Savage Messiah, Salome's Last Dance, Lady Chatterley, Mind Bender and of course The DevilsIn Search Of the English Folk Song would be fun, too, and maybe a collection of his early BBC shorts.  But this is a major one off the wish list.
The Music Lovers is one of Russell's best composer films, possibly the best, which is really saying something.  Specifically, this one's about Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, played by Richard Chamberland.  The great Glenda Jackson plays his troubled wife and Russell regular Christopher Gable plays his DL gay lover.  Yes, this is a surprisingly progressive story for 1971, and yes, Russell does present us with a supremely English Russia, though he does a nice job capturing some of the proper architecture in his sets.  Look for Bruce Robinson, writer and director of Withnail & I and The Killing Fields, in a supporting role.  It's at times one of Russell's more grounded theatrical ventures, but at other times it goes as colorfully bombastic as you can imagine.  And as always, one of the film's greatest strengths in Russell's ability to invoke imagery to match the maestro's composition, and to intuitively sync the man's biography with his work.
In the US, all we got was a barebones DVDR from MGM in 2011, which was better than nothing at least.  The UK got almost the exact same disc from Final Cut Entertainment that same year, but at least it was a properly pressed DVD.  The back of its case it's "4:3 Full Frame," but fortunately no, it's properly 16x9 2.37:1.  That's been my go-to disc until now, as the BFI has just released a brand new, special edition blu-ray.
2011 Final Cut DVD top; 2024 BFI BD top.
The BFI booklet's "About the Presentation" page only says that they got the master from MGM, so I'm guessing this isn't a fresh new 2 or 4k scan, or they'd tell us so.  Still, it's clearly a newer master than the DVD.  The colors are better separated and the framing has been refined to a more precise 2.35:1. 
Film grain is light when it's present at all, and the edges look a little tweaked (some of those highlights seem overly cranked), again suggesting an older HD master, but it's certainly clearer than the DVD (which has worse edge enhancement) with more vibrant colors and a generally satisfying image, albeit nothing cutting edge.

Final Cut's DVD just has the original 2.0 stereo track.  BFI upgrades that track to LPCM and throws in a "bonus" DTS-HD 5.1 mix.  The blu-ray also includes optional English subtitles, which the DVD does not.
Our special edition starts off with an audio commentary by film historian Matthew Melia, and its rather excellent.  I think we've been getting burned more and more by modern "experts" who take a very lazy approach to commentaries, where they come with only a few basic facts and just wing it for two hours, wandering off into tangents about their childhoods, unrelated films or whatever springs to mind in their free associations.  This, on the other hand, is a nice reminder of the value of a real expert who's prepared and here to inform.  Then there's a vintage, audio-only interview from 1988 with screenwriter Melvyn Bragg, which also plays as a second commentary over the film.  Unfortunately, he doesn't mention The Music Lovers once, and only takes one question near the end about his work as a screenwriter at all (where he talks about his disappointment with his 1968 film Isadora being shorn of approximately thirty minutes).  Instead it's all about his years producing The South Bank Show, which is still somewhat interesting, at least if you've ever seen the show. But unlike the Melia commentary, I'd only recommend listening to it if you're familiar with his that program.
Besides those, though, we get plenty more goodies.  First is an amusing interview with Russell's son, who talks about working as an extra in this and other of his father's films, plus his frustrations with The Fall Of the Louse Of Usher.  Then there's a short film of Ken Russell's strange, original ballet Charlotte Brontë Enters the Big Brother House (the story of Brontë's life as told through the prism of the reality show Big Brother).  The film consists of a behind-the-scenes 'making of' followed by the entire ballet itself, edited for film.  Those are the treats.  Then, for more serious Tchaikovsky fans, we get three 1950s newsreels about him and a brief 1940 film of an excerpt from Swan Lake.  There's also a stills gallery of costume designs, the theatrical trailer and a 40-page booklet.  In short, it's another must-have in Russell's filmography on home video.  Let's hope BFI never stops pumping out releases like this.

The Remaining Bergmans, Now With More Face To Face

Okay, so you've bought Criterion's big Ingmar Bergman's Cinema box, The BFI's Ingmar Bergman's Cinema and even Artificial Eye's Classic Bergman set.  But you're still hungry.  Ingmar Bergman's an unparalleled master and you know he's made plenty more films than those, so what else can you get your hands on and add to the collection?  Well, unfortunately, not a whole lot, despite the large number of films he's written and/ or directed that remain unavailable on home video.  There's Best Intentions and Faithless, which I've already covered, and then just three more.  And two of those are DVD-only.

Update 10/3/22 - 2/25/24: Well, thanks to Imprint's new Face To Face blu-ray edition, now only one of these are DVD-only.  Can we make it zero?  And release all of Bergman's remaining films?  Hopefully, but today let's just be happy about Face To Face.
In 1970, Bergman wrote an original feature length film for Swedish television called The Lie, directed by Jan Molander, and starring one of Bergman's greatest actors, Erland Josephson, about a middle class couple hopelessly trapped in a mass of deception.  If the made-for-TV aspect makes it sound less interesting, remember some of Bergman's most acclaimed and beloved works were made for Swedish television, like Fanny & Alexander and Scenes From a Marriage (both also with Josephson, by the way).  Sounds like something you'd like to see now, huh?  Well, tough noogies; you can't.  It's another on the very long list of Bergman films never released in an English-friendly capacity, or even really as a Swedish-only release, apart from its televised broadcast.
However in America, Bergman's same script was adapted into an English-language television film starring George Segal, Shirley Knight and Robert Culp.  Ah, but no, you can't get that one anywhere either.  BUT, also during that time the BBC adapted the very same screenplay for British television, starring Gemma Jones (Sense & Sensibility, The Devils) and Frank Finlay (Lifeforce, Dennis Potter's Casanova).  The performances are powerful and nuanced, the director seems to be making deliberate nods to Bergman as a director (like all those mirror shots), and the writing is some of Bergman's strongest.  Only the music seems out of place, like BBC library stock stuff; but even that's not bad, just incongruous. And this version of The Lie actually IS available.  And this version won a BAFTA, so we shouldn't feel too short-changed.  It's on blu-ray as part of the BFI's first volume of its Play for Today box sets from 2020.
2020 UK BFI BD.
According to the included booklet, the episodes in this box are broken into two categories: those shot on video and "sourced from the best existing tape materials preserved by the BBC" and those shot on film, which are "newly scanned at 2k resolution from the original 17mm A/B roll camera negatives."  Fortunately, The Lie is one of the latter, and looks fantastic.  It's presented in its original 1.33:1 and looks very grainy, something that never would've come through during its original airings.  But it's very clearly encoded and looks quite impressive.  There is no interlacing despite it being a vintage 70s British television program, because they went back to the original film elements.  The original mono track is presented in a strong, lossless LPCM track with optional English subtitles.

The only extras are an image gallery and an 80-page full-color booklet, and of course the other seven Play for Today episodes, which range from good to great.  There's one on the troubles in Ireland that struck me as much more compelling than Branagh's Belfast which came out around the same time as this set, and a creepy horror story called A Photograph.  So I can understand a Bergman fan being frustrated they can't just buy The Lie by itself, but the whole set is worth having in your collection.
Next up is a proper theatrical film (although there was an extended television version released afterwards) written and directed by Bergman: 1975's Face To Face.  Bergman and star Liv Ullmann were both nominated for Oscars for this picture, so again, it's not like it's all lesser work that's been neglected on blu.  This one's a pretty harrowing tale of mental illness, with Ullmann as a psychiatrist whose problems run as deep as her patients'.  She takes on a lover, Erland Josephson again, who proves to be a far more loving companion than her own husband, and Gunnar Bjornstrand appears as her aging grandfather.  This one's pretty dark, and relatable despite risking going over the top at more than one point.  And it includes some of the most believable and heart-wrenching dream sequences committed to cinema, making those famous Wild Strawberries bits feel like trivialities.
Face To Face had only been available (English-friendly at any rate) as a 2011 barebones DVD from Olive Films, though at least it's anamorphic widescreen.  I remember some controversy when it was released, because people felt Olive acquiring the rights cut off Criterion from giving this a proper restoration, and possibly both cuts.  But of course it's pure speculation that they would've done that, and certainly getting this disc was better than the other possible alternative: nothing.  But now we don't have to choose between a DVD or nothing; we have a brand new blu-ray edition (also of the theatrical version; the extended TV cut is still unavailable anywhere) from Via Vision's Imprint, due out this Wednesday.
2011 US Olive Films DVD top; 2024 AUS Imprint BD bottom.
Olive presents Face To Face in a rather fuzzy 1.78:1.  It's standard def, so the hints we get of film grain are about the most we could ask for, but it sure seems like this image could be sharper, even on DVD.  But the real problem is the sound.  It's a static-y mess that sounds like it's been Noise Gate'd, so it's silent between words, but whenever anybody speaks, it's a metallic mess, as if you're hearing them through a bad telephone connection; and when people make small, innocuous movements, it sometimes sounds like they're sitting on their lavaliers.

Imprint presents the film in a sharper 1.67:1, giving us more vertically, though shaving a sliver off the sides.  And though the film is still on the soft side (almost looking like 16mm, though I understand it was shot on 35, so I'm guessing this was taken from a later generation element, rather than the original negatives), the film grain tell us this is a much clearer look at the film source.  It certainly brings detail and edges into focus.  And thank goodness, they've improved the sound.  It's still not perfect... it's still excessively loud when people sit on the sofa or rustle their coats, and there's slight background hiss.  But it's nothing like the static-y DVD.  It's also lossless now.  The whole thing's a big improvement.  Oh, and in both cases, the subtitles are removable.
Olive has no extras, not even the trailer.  Imprint doesn't have the trailer either, but comes in a stylish slipcase; and more importantly, they've got some impressive goodies.  First up is an expert commentary by Michael Brooke, and it's damn good.  A lot of "expert" commentaries and featurettes I've watched lately have been eye rollingly indulgent if not outright wastes of our time.  But this guy's pretty great, very well informed, leaves no dead air, cites lots of sources and is consistently interesting.  I wish other commentators would aim for this standard, even if they can't reach it every time.  Also on here is a visual essay by Kat Ellinger, and similarly, I've been a little let down by some of her recent output... maybe she's just agreeing to too many projects and unable to devote enough time to them all?  Or maybe she just takes a deeper interest in some films and their special features more than others?  I don't know, but she nails it here.  Starting off very informative and citing interesting sources, then easing into her excellently made thesis that this is an under-appreciated (including by Bergman himself) feminist work.

My only nitpick, and this is admittedly a petty one, is that she uses fake film damage, jitter and projector noise... you know, that fake "old timey" video filter that comes packaged in every free video editor.  And it's like, why spoil the rare photos she's sharing in her video for a silly gimmick?  There's never a good reason to degrade good footage with those cheesy filters.  But again, I acknowledge that's pure nitpickery; just a little pet peeve of mine.  Honestly, I might've skipped over both of these extras if I didn't feel obligated to watch them for this review, but I'm glad I gave them the chance and recommend all you readers do the same.
Finally, we end with the most underrated of the three, 2000's The Image Makers.  This is another made-for-Swedish-television project, and in this case really looks it.  It's all set in one room like a stage-play, which in fact it originally was, although the camera is certainly moving and cutting around.  This one's directed by Bergman (and he also directed the original theatrical production) but written by Per Olov Enquist (Pelle the Conqueror), although it really, really feels like a Bergman script, to the point where I suspect he at least had a hand in rewriting it for the screen, and perhaps rather liberally.  It's certainly an interesting coincidence that both this and Face To Face have an older person tell a middle-aged woman that "old age is Hell."
Anyway, it's the story of the making of the classic Swedish ghost movie, 1921's The Phantom Carriage.  The author of the original film arrives at the studio to see clips of the film Victor Sjöström and his cinematographer Julius Jaenzon have made of her work.  However, to complicate matters, Tora Teje, the actress having an affair with the director and who feels the leading part should have been hers, shows up at the same time and makes a scene.  It's on one hand a fascinating mediation on the ownership/ creation of art - how can the author, director, actor and photographer each feel the art projected on screen is their singular vision?  But it's also a powerful human drama where the making of The Phantom Carriage is really just the backdrop to a forceful study of love, heartbreak, infidelity and cruel fathers.  There's a cheap shot-on-video look to the film, amplified by the staginess of the setting, that signals The Image Makers as a forgettable lesser work.  But when you really settle into it, it's as moving and thoughtful a work as Bergman's greatest films.

But to date, this film has only been released on DVD in the UK by Tartan in 2008.
You may've also noticed that Tartan's release is a 2-disc double feature, and in fact the lead film isn't The Image Makers, but the original Phantom Carriage.  It works as a nice supplement to The Image Makers, but as a stand-alone disc, it's not too impressive.  It's somewhat window-boxed 1.32:1, interlaced, and barebones.  So in an age where Criterion has released an impressive special edition blu-ray, this really isn't a go-to disc for Phantom Carriage.  The reason to buy this set is The Image Makers.  But it's a damn good reason.
2008 UK Tartan DVD.
Thankfully, even though disc 1 is interlaced, The Image Makers' DVD is not.  It's 1.32:1 just like the The Phantom Carriage, and apart from a handful of clips from the 1921 film, looks like it was shot on video.  If it was shot on film, then this was definitely taken from a video master.  Either way, it looks bold and clear, and about as good as you could hope for from a master like this.  It would be interesting to see if an HD restoration from the original elements - whatever those may be - could do for this film; but I wouldn't expect much.  The sound is a clean mono track, the subtitles are removable, and the only extra is a fold-out insert with notes by David Thompson, director of Encountering Bergman.

Needless to say, all three of the releases covered above are must-haves for Bergman fans.  And yes, it's very much worthy double-dipping from Olive's DVD to Imprint's BD of Face To Face.  Now hopefully some label or other will see fit to continue to plumb the depths of Bergman's incredible catalog.

Behind the Curtains of Ghost Watch

So I was just watching The Conjuring 2 the other night, and as it went on, I started to think, in some ways this is set up a lot like Ghost Watch. At a certain point there's a big plot twist, which don't worry, I won't spoil, but it's basically the end of the second act. So if you've seen the movie, you can probably guess. Anyway, that convinced me there's no way James Wan could not have seen Ghost Watch; he's totally cribbing!  But then it occurred to me that these Conjuring movies are based on "true" cases of hauntings, so even though Ghost Watch never credits it, they must've both been based on the "real" Enfield hauntings. I did a little research, and sure enough not only is the general set-up about the same, but that plot twist happened in the real event.  So I apologize for just thinking in my head that Mr. Wan was stealing.  But it's still interesting that Ghost Watch did it first, and I would argue, better.

Update 7/3/16 - 12/18/22: Wow!  This is one I never thought we'd see on BD, but here it is.  In a fancy new, special edition from 101 Films.  But given the unique nature of this particular program, is there any point to releasing this in HD?  Let's investigate.
Ghost Watch did a lot of things first, beating all kinds of ghost movies from Grave Encounters to Paranormal Activity to their punches by a couple of decades. But in some ways, it's still pretty unique. In fact, Ghost Watch is possibly best known for being a War Of the World-style hoax, where a piece of fiction was played like a non-fiction broadcast, in this case on the BBC, and scared a lot of people. According to the materials that came with the film, it was quite serious, including newspaper reports of a teenage boy who supposedly hung himself because of the broadcast. But as with Orson Welles' radio play, it's hard not to think that some of this ballyhoo is a bit exaggerated. And while the show had not been repeated since its original broadcast until BFI's 2002 DVD, upon finally seeing it, it plays like more of a spooky but fun Halloween ghost story than a real con.
But it is effective on pretty much all levels. Regular BBC presenter Michael Parkinson cleverly plays himself hosting a somewhat cheesy BBC Halloween television special ("Ghost Watch," in the style of quite real BBC programs of the time: Hospital Watch and Crimewatch UK), where they're going to ghost hunt a supposedly real London haunting live on the air. Some aspects of it are also remarkably similar to ghost hunting shows we have today, but this predates most of that sort of thing, having aired in 1992. Another frequent BBC host Sarah Greene plays the lead reporter who takes a camera crew to stay the night with a single mother and her two daughters in their supposedly haunted flat, and Red Dwarf's Craig Charles plays an irreverent reporter cynically interviewing trick or treaters out on the street. Naturally, nobody on the show takes the threat of the haunting seriously until the eerie signs of a real supernatural presence start to add up.
This is a smart story, which puts it well ahead of most of its haunted house competition. The show has us carefully studying hand held and surveillance footage just like Paranormal Activity would do much later. And its subtle self-parody of the tackier side of BBC programming is much more authentic than Grave Encounters. And yet this movie knows just when to stop being clever and shift into the dark and serious. The all too human trauma of young girls being terrorized by a grisly, malignant force gets genuinely creepy and unsettling. This film's Mr. Pipes is still a strong rival for Wan's Crooked Man.
Now, Ghost Watch debuted on DVD from the BFI as a tight little special edition in 2002, and that's the DVD we're looking at here. It has since been reissued by 101 Films in 2011, and again as a double-pack paired up with Nigel Kneale's excellent ghost story The Stone Tape in 2013. But those discs were a step backwards, removing BFI's excellent special features.  But they've redeemed themselves in full now in 2022, giving us a fancy, new special edition blu that recovers BFI's extras and cooks up some new ones of its own.  But given it's an intentional reproduction of a vintage, early 90's live television broadcast, would restoring this film from its original elements for a new HD transfer spoil the spirit, or even the entire point, of the show? Well, don't worry. They haven't really done that.
2002 UK BFI DVD top; 2022 US 101 Films BD bottom.
The film is full-screen, interlaced and sourced from tape. That's as good as it can get and as good as it should get. It was made to look 100% like an early 90s BBC broadcast, and that was authentically achieved by the BBC using their own equipment and crew of the time. If you're here looking for Avatar-like PQ, you've come to the wrong place. But that doesn't mean there isn't room for improvement on 101's BD release, and thankfully they've done it without any of the unfortunate tinkering many of us fans feared.

For starters, yes, this film is meant to be fullscreen and is on both discs, but BFI is slightly windowboxed and pinched to 1.29:1, which 101 corrects to its proper 1.33:1.  And while it maintains the interlacing and weird edging effects video masters of that period naturally have, the blu-ray clears up the gunky compression artifacts that cover the DVD's SD image.  For the most part, the image looks the same as it ever did (without clicking through to the full-size versions, the caps on this page appear pretty identical), and certainly still looks like an old 90s BBC show, with the blu just clearing up the little faults that the DVD added into the mix.

Both discs just have the Dolby 2.0 audio; but 101's LPCM presentation does sound a bit more robust, with background dialogue a little easier to discern.  BFI's disc was also lacking subtitles, which 101 has added (particularly useful for the possessed voice of Pipes in a few dramatic sequences). 
But BFI did offer some great supplements, which the original 101 DVD was missing.  The center piece of that features package is an audio commentary by director Lesley Manning, writer Stephen Volk and producer Ruth Baumgarten. They have a lot to say because the show's novel premise and format, not to mention the surprising controversy, giving them a lot to talk about. So it moves at a steady, informative clip. There's also a featurette called Shooting Reality, which is mostly Manning narrating stills of the original shooting script, behind the scenes photos, letters she received from children about the show, storyboards, etc. It's essentially an addendum to the main commentary to fill in the last few missing bits she wanted to say. So you'll definitely want to check out both. The DVD also includes an insert with liner notes by Kim Newman, and DVD ROM copies of the show's original treatment, screenplay, and another ghost story written by Volk.
Apart from the DVD ROM content and insert, all of that's been brought back for the 101 blu.  And what little they didn't bring back, they handily topped.  First, they added a second audio commentary, though this is actually probably the most disposable of the new assets.  It features academics Shellie McMurdo and Stella Gaynor who were both scared by this film when it originally aired on TV and they were kids.  So they don't have a lot of information to impart, and mostly just reminisce and fawn over how convincing it is (plus they run out of things to say and give up before the movie is over).  In other words, it plays as a giggly, repetitious fan commentary, rather than an expert commentary.  But more is always better than less, and maybe there's somebody out there who enjoys that kind of thing.

Much more rewarding is the new, 48-minute retrospective documentary.  It features sit down interviews with Volk, Manning, stars Sarah Green & Gillian Bevan, plus the writer and director of Host (Jed Shepherd and Robert Savage, respectively).  And while the DVD ROM copy of the script might've sounded cool, 101's actual physical 100+ page reprint is way cooler.  They also include another, 50+ page booklet of essays and six art cards.  It comes in a thick slipbox (like the good ones Arrow makes), and the interior amary case has reversible artwork.
Still, there are some key voices missing from the existing special features. And that's where Rich Lawden's 2012 documentary feature Ghost Watch: Behind the Curtains comes in.  On its own, it's quite a thorough history of the 1992 television film. They talk to pretty much everybody, including Manning, Volk and Baumgarten, and all the major stars, including those the BFI and 101 missed, like Parkinson, Mike Smith, Greene and Charles. They also talk to fans and people who remember the scares raised up by the original broadcast, and even Kim Newman. Any Ghost Watch fan will want to see this, too. In fact, it's Ghost Watch's single best companion piece, topping all the other special features combined.
2013 UK Lawman DVD.
And thankfully, it's available on DVD. It's a nice, anamorphic 16x9 1.78:1 presentation that ironically has superior picture quality to Ghost Watch itself. It's just got your basic Dolby 2.0 audio with no subtitles, and there aren't any extras except for a trailer for the doc, but I guess you wouldn't expect much for a film that's sort of already a blown up extra. Though I noticed they do have a few neat odds and ends on the filmmakers' youtube channel that would've made nice bonuses. Oh well.
Or, if you prefer, the transcript for Lawden's documentary is available in paperback. But you're going to want some version of Behind the Curtains to supplement whichever edition of Ghost Watch you may have.  If anything, it invalidates many of the other extras, just because it covers the same ground better.  Interestingly however, none of these looks at the Enfield case. It took the Conjuring 2 to put me onto that. So I'd also have to recommend this to anyone interested in that story, which was also depicted in 1998's Urban Ghost Story, and again by the BBC in their recent 2015 miniseries, The Enfield Haunting starring Timothy Spall.  But even given all of those, Ghost Watch is a unique and innovative take on the subject matter.  And, I daresay, the best.