Showing posts with label Olive Films. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olive Films. Show all posts

Doing Right By Dirty Work

Man, Vinegar Syndrome is full of surprises these day, and I am here for it.  I remember in the early days of DVD that somebody would give the Norm MacDonald vehicle Dirty Work a special edition.  And I remember long ago giving up any hope of that.  But now Vinegar Syndrome has done it!  We're talking commentaries, interviews, a documentary... the whole bit.  And not just that, but they've restored footage cut for its PG-13 rating for a packed 3-disc, UHD/ BD set.  Oh yeah, they've restored it in 4k from the original negatives, too.  Yes, I'm talking about 1998's Dirty Work; this is not a prank.
I saw was a big enough Dirty Work fan that I saw this in theaters, unlike most of America.  It's a crazy, irreverent and cheerfully lowbrow comedy, and even though it's a small supporting role for him, one of Chevy Chase's best film work.  Really, everybody's great from Jack Warden (12 Angry Men, Bullets Over Broadway) to Chris Farley, and of course Artie Lange in a rare starring role.  And even back then I noticed there had to have been stuff cut out of it, because there's this running gag where Norm records all these "note to self"s throughout the film on a pocket tape recorder.  And there's a scene where he's thrown out of a building without the recorder in his hand, and in the next shot, he's standing up and putting it in his pocket.  So clearly there was a note joke there they cut out.  And so when the DVD and laserdisc came out, I was checking the back of both thinking, there had to at least be some deleted scenes.
A scene only in the "dirtier" cut top; a scene only in the PG-13 cut bottom.
So when Vinegar Syndrome announced they were restoring the R-rated cut that MacDonald and director Bob Saget (America's Funniest Home Videos) had always wanted to release, I was psyched.  It's actually only one minute and fifty-four seconds longer, but that's because they there's a lot of substitution.  Explicit words and phrases like "anal rape" had been replaced with "other thing," which this new "dirtier" cut was now putting back.  And a whole sequence, where Norm and Artie got revenge by putting doughnuts on their cocks had been replaced by an equally long bit where they're hired by a circus midget to get revenge on the bearded lady (Rebecca Romijn).  So, one was replaced by the other, meaning it's a huge difference, even though the running time is barely effected.
a scene only in the assembly cut.
You know what isn't there, though?  that "note to self" gag, which is cut the same way in both versions.  That tape recorder just magically appears in his hand after a cut, only for him to immediately tuck it away into his pocket.  I would've been bummed except, by the time I was watching the newly restored "dirtier version," I already knew VS had also included a rough "Assembly Cut" on another disc - and this one's thirty-nine minutes and fifty-one seconds longer!  And sure enough, that gag is in there, and so is a whole bunch more deleted footage.  I'm particularly fond of Adam Sandler as Satan now telling Norm, "your grandmother's down here with us."  Nice touch - should've left it in the movie!  Now, this is a rough cut that was never intended to be released, so the pacing is off.  There's no score, few sound effects and you can occasionally hear Saget giving direction off-camera,  It's more of interest as a collection of deleted scenes and a historical artifact than a properly viable version of the film (luckily, since it's sourced from tape and looks terrible).  But fans should be thrilled.  And if we're being perfectly honest, not even the "dirtier" cut is really any better than the theatrical cut.  It's just different, and definitely of interest, but not actually better.  It's not worse either; it's essentially a side-grade in that regard.  So it's great that VS restored and included the PG-13 cut as well.  We get it all here.
MGM released Dirty Work on DVD as a new release in 1999.  It was a barebones, but at least respectably anamorphic widescreen disc.  And that was all fans had to live on until Olive Films eventually upgraded the film to blu-ray in 2015.  It was still barebones, but it would've been unrealistic to expect any more at that point.  At least we had the film in HD.  And that's where everyone expected it to end, until Vinegar Syndrome announced their massive, 3-disc UHD special edition set this year featuring all three aforementioned cuts.
1) 1999 MGM DVD; 2) 2015 Olive BD; 3) 2025 VS BD;
4) 2025 VS (assembly cut) BD; 5) 2025 VS UHD.

All the blu-rays are displayed in the film's original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, but the DVD went the "no black bars" route of 1.77:1, which you can see crops some off the sides.  The assembly cut actually trims the sides similarly, but stays 1.85:1 by also trimming along the top and bottom.  That cut is in SD, though, and is really more of a bonus feature than a serious presentation of the film: ripped from tape, over-exposed and has a frame-rate issue where some frames are doubled.  In terms of earnest presentation of the film, it's a steady progression from release to release.  The DVD has a very slight red hue, which Olive corrects, while naturally sharpening up the image simply by boosting it to HD.  It doesn't have the compression issues of the DVD, but it still looks pretty soft up close.  Compare that to VS's fresh 4k scan of the OCN, and it's a massive improvement even when comparing the two 1080p blus.  Olive's disc doesn't even hint at the film grain that's comprising the picture, while VS brings it fully to light, almost as perfectly represented as the UHD.  One thing to note about VS's transfer though, is that the contrast is deep with bold blacks, and really striking saturation.  In the extras, the filmmakers talk about how the primary colors are meant to be strong, to hint at the cartoon-like nature of the film; but even so, I'd say VS have made a strong choice here.  It's possibly a little too much, but it is a striking look, and the picture quality is such an upgrade in every other respect, you can't be too mad at it.

MGM's DVD presents the film in its original 5.1 mix, with an alternate French dub (also 5.1), plus English and French subtitles.  Olive drops the French stuff, and more disappointingly the English subs, but bumps the English 5.1 to DTS-HD.  And now Vinegar Syndrome brings back the English subs and gives us both the 5.1 and a stereo mix in DTS-HD for both versions.  The Assembly cut, though, just has lossy 2.0 with no subs.
MGM and Olive both had the theatrical trailer, but that was it.  Vinegar Syndrome, on the other hand, is packed with a ton of great stuff.  The one caveat?  Redundancy is off the charts.  First, we have two audio commentaries, one with writer Frank Sebastiano and a second with Sebastiano and co-writer Fred Wolf.  Both have some great info, but the phrase you'll hear most often on the second commentary is, "as I said on the other commentary," followed by him repeating an anecdote or whatever nearly verbatim.  There are unique bits in each one, so dedicated fans will want to listen to both.  But for more casual fans, I'd recommend just picking one.  Either one.

"As I said in my interview" comes up a couple times, too.  There's a great hour-long documentary, which features both the above writers and a ton of cast and crew.  Admittedly, none of the big stars, but an impressive list of small players, like the guy who played the crossing card in the flashback or the woman who played "the Saigon whore who bit my nose off!"  They all have fun things to say, though yes, some of them will repeat the same observations about the stars, and yes, both the writers from the commentaries are here, too, repeating some content from those.  Then there's a series of interviews, ten in total, all but one culled from the documentary.  You could call them "documentary extended scenes," honestly, because they all use the same clips from the documentary, telling the same stories, but each one is expands on what they had to say in their solo interview.
The documentary is pretty great, and each interview taken in isolation is a treat, but just watching this disc straight through becomes a bit of a grind, listening to the same things again and again.  Especially when they all use the same small handful of clips from the film over and over again, too.  You might've found the line "here's your two dollars" funny the first time, but we'll see if you're still laughing the ninth or tenth time in a two hour stretch.  Anyway, I said "all but one," because there is one unique interview where actor and fellow SNL alumni Jim Downey shares some of his humorous text messages with Norm McDonald.  That's unique to that one interview, so go ahead and watch that.  Besides that, there's an alternate extended ending (they were right to cut it, but it's interesting to see) and the trailer.  This release comes with reversible artwork, and if you bought the limited edition, a slipbox and 40-page booklet.
So don't let my criticisms (did I mention that the artwork on the discs themselves is heinous and makes it annoying to determine which disc is which?) discourage you from picking this up and diving in; just be selective as you go.  Because they did a fantastic job pulling all of this together.  It's clearly a labor of love, and it's what fans have spent decades wishing for.  It's truly an ultimate edition, and as I've said before, I always prefer a release err on the side of inclusion rather than exclusion.  They've certainly done that.

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.

Olive Film's Unsung Carrington

It's 1915.  "Who on Earth is that ravishing young boy," asks gay Bloomsbury author Lytton Strachey (Jonathan Pryce), about Dora Carrington (Emma Thompson), who turns out to be not just a famous painter, but a decidedly grown woman with short hair, who fiercely protects her virginity and wishes she had never been born female.  The title is Carrington, but it could just as easily have been Strachey and Carrington, as the focus is consistently on the two of them and their relationship.  And in fact, the screenplay is based on a Strachey biography by Michael Holroyd.  The two of them wind up in a powerful, and powerfully complicated, lifelong relationship with multiple lovers and spouses.  Under-appreciated in its time (1995), I'm surprised this film hasn't been reclaimed yet as an important high point of queer cinema, but it's also so much more than that.
Writer/ director/ playwright Christopher Hampton (Dangerous Liaisons, Cheri) has turned their true story into a rich, literary piece of cinematic art.  It's funny, it's heart-wrenching and all too relatable without any false sentimentality.  There are also striking themes about class and the war most of its peers would've side-stepped.  The writing's probably the singular star, but Pryce and Thompson give two of their career-best performances, and the score and locations are lush and beautiful even before you factor in Carrington's paintings (which, unlike some other recent painter biopics of note, are shown here).  The rest of the cast is spot on, too, including Rufus Sewell, Steven Waddington and Samuel West.  And I'm always caught by surprise when a young Jeremy Northam. turns up in the last act.

There's depressingly little to Carrington's story on home video considering what a brilliant film it is.  MGM released it on DVD back in 2001.  That was all we had until Olive Films came around and released it on DVD and blu (separate releases) in 2016.
2001 MGM DVD top; 2016 Olive BD bottom.
Olive's new blu is much more than just MGM's old master on an HD disc, it's a total remaster.  Not that MGM's DVD was so terrible.  They gave us a slightly windowboxed 1.82:1 anamorphic, while Olive gives us a brighter and much clearer 1.85:1 with noticeably more picture along all four sides, and free of the DVD's muddy compression.  That said, it's clearly not a modern HD transfer.  Film grain is, like, not visible at all.  This is probably an HD master that was made ages ago, but still after the one MGM used for their disc.  In other words, it's not on par with any fancy 4k releases, but it's a heck of an upgrade over the old DVD.

Both discs featurette the original stereo audio track, in DTS-HD on the blu and optional English subtitles.  MGM also has French, Spanish and HoH subs.
MGM's DVD was pretty sparse, but not completely barren.  Their primary extra is a ten minute vintage featurette, which is about as good as it could be given its length.  It features interviews with all the lead actors, the director and an uncredited guy who I'm pretty certain is the original novelist, plus a little B-roll.  But it's too short to go into much depth.  Besides that, there's the trailer and a couple of bonus trailers.  Happily, Olive kept the featurette and trailer, ditching only the bonus trailers.  They didn't add anything more, but the did fix the interlacing on the featurette, so that's nice.
This shelf-essential blu-ray has been available pretty cheap for years.  But now that Olive Films is no more, it's out of print and slowly becoming scarcer.  This is one you should definitely grab now before you wind up having to pay through the nose a few years down the line.