Entry tags:
The One That Achieves Madness
Yesterday (Monday), I got my copy of the new DVD of Performance, the film by Nicolas Roeg (photographer/director) and Donald Cammell (writer/director), in the mail - a day before release date; thanks USPS! I've been waiting for this film, a favorite, to come out on DVD for years (hell, to have ANY kind of good-quality video release), and . . . well, I'd like to say I was not disappointed, but that's not altogether true.
Good things: The transfer is beautiful. Roeg's images have never looked so sweet and strong. For years I've seen this in faded and/or grainy and/or scratchy prints. The film now lives up to the standard of Roeg's work on other films from Fahrenheit 451 to Masque of the Red Death to Petulia to A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.
The film is the full cut, not the slightly-edited original USA cut. The voices of Johnny Shannon (as Harry Flowers) and Laraine Wickens (as Lorraine), which were dubbed over with more "intelligible" voices for USA prints, have been restored -- I'd never heard their actual voices before; Shannon is perfectly intelligible to anyone who's watched enough BBC TV, Wickens is, yes, rather more difficult, but far better than the horrible screechy adult-woman-masquerading-as-a-child voice that replaced hers.
The sound remains - correctly - in mono, but has been spiffed up to be more clear, punchy, and wide in frequency than ever before, which brings me to--
One Bad Thing: The attraction to many of this film lies much in its brilliant soundtrack (mostly by Jack Nitzsche), so having the songs be so clear and rumbling (even in mono) is a good thing.
However. Someone must have decided that the classic sequence featuring Mick Jagger performing his song "Memo from Turner" needed even MORE audio goosing, and apparently decided to mix together the original mono track from the film with a mono version of the song as it appears on the original soundtrack album of the film - the same recording, yes, but in a different mix. So when the song begins, the bass suddenly becomes THUNDEROUS and the song really LEAPS OUT at you. This is not in itself bad, though it's noticeable that an extra echo effect is missing from Jagger's voice in a couple of spots. Then, during an extended instrumental break midway through the song, several sound effects and one line of dialogue from Jagger ("Here's to Old England!") are now COMPLETELY GONE from the scene.
Okay. In the great scheme of things, this is a very small matter. Still, this is, despite the film's relative scarcity for many years, an important film, influential on and revered by many filmmakers for years (Paul Schrader once remarked that whenever he was stuck for an idea, he'd watch Performance again, as it's full of ideas, and will always have something good and appropriate for him to steal). This DVD is probably going to now be the "definitive" version of the film, the only one that anyone who gets to know the film now will know, and it's NOT QUITE right. Dammit.
The only other "bad thing," really just a mild annoyance, is that in the (so-so) new "making-of" documentary on the disk, the "swinging London" atmosphere of the film is represented by title graphics with subpar Height-Ashbury-style, "groovy" typefaces and graphics that have nothing to do with the film. Ick. Yeah, yeah, I know: "Sixties" = "Bill Graham Winterland Posters." {sigh}
Restoration is a tricky business all right. They screwed up another little-but-really-not-so-little thing in the new restoration of Eraserhead they just did at MoMA, which I'll be discussing sometime else soon in the next few days when I'll be . . .
DREAMING OF DAVID LYNCH (IN SIX PARTS)
David Lynch’s work is never far from my mind. Obviously, I’m not alone. Recently, when Isaac Butler at Parabasis put it to his fellow theatre bloggers (primarily playwrights) to list their influences, Lynch’s name was generally among the ones listed (James Comtois noted this in his list and comments).
The group of posters over at Vinyl Is Heavy have announced “The Lynch Mob,” a series of postings this week (Feb. 12-16) focusing on Lynch. While not a “Blog-a-thon” per se, it seemed like a good excuse to spend this past week watching the entirety of Lynch’s output as director of film/video works (his work in other media either less interesting or interesting enough to be dealt with on its own, you make the call), in chronological order, and put down a few thoughts about his 25-or-so films/videos.
I don’t want or intend to go into any great analytical detail about all the pieces – that would require at least one book, possibly more, and would be reductive as regards the work in any case. A good book already exists containing as much of that as you need, Lynch on Lynch, edited by Chris Rodley.
This is a personal look at Lynch’s works; a few thoughts about what interests me here and there, connections I’ve made, things of note to point out, and variants/problems with the video versions. A breezy overview.
So after making up a list of his works, and pulling out the tapes and DVDs, I went to it from the start. I've made it through everything from 1967 to 1995 thus far, and my first entry (covering Six Figures Getting Sick through Eraserhead) will be up ASAP.
Good things: The transfer is beautiful. Roeg's images have never looked so sweet and strong. For years I've seen this in faded and/or grainy and/or scratchy prints. The film now lives up to the standard of Roeg's work on other films from Fahrenheit 451 to Masque of the Red Death to Petulia to A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.
The film is the full cut, not the slightly-edited original USA cut. The voices of Johnny Shannon (as Harry Flowers) and Laraine Wickens (as Lorraine), which were dubbed over with more "intelligible" voices for USA prints, have been restored -- I'd never heard their actual voices before; Shannon is perfectly intelligible to anyone who's watched enough BBC TV, Wickens is, yes, rather more difficult, but far better than the horrible screechy adult-woman-masquerading-as-a-child voice that replaced hers.
The sound remains - correctly - in mono, but has been spiffed up to be more clear, punchy, and wide in frequency than ever before, which brings me to--
One Bad Thing: The attraction to many of this film lies much in its brilliant soundtrack (mostly by Jack Nitzsche), so having the songs be so clear and rumbling (even in mono) is a good thing.
However. Someone must have decided that the classic sequence featuring Mick Jagger performing his song "Memo from Turner" needed even MORE audio goosing, and apparently decided to mix together the original mono track from the film with a mono version of the song as it appears on the original soundtrack album of the film - the same recording, yes, but in a different mix. So when the song begins, the bass suddenly becomes THUNDEROUS and the song really LEAPS OUT at you. This is not in itself bad, though it's noticeable that an extra echo effect is missing from Jagger's voice in a couple of spots. Then, during an extended instrumental break midway through the song, several sound effects and one line of dialogue from Jagger ("Here's to Old England!") are now COMPLETELY GONE from the scene.
Okay. In the great scheme of things, this is a very small matter. Still, this is, despite the film's relative scarcity for many years, an important film, influential on and revered by many filmmakers for years (Paul Schrader once remarked that whenever he was stuck for an idea, he'd watch Performance again, as it's full of ideas, and will always have something good and appropriate for him to steal). This DVD is probably going to now be the "definitive" version of the film, the only one that anyone who gets to know the film now will know, and it's NOT QUITE right. Dammit.
The only other "bad thing," really just a mild annoyance, is that in the (so-so) new "making-of" documentary on the disk, the "swinging London" atmosphere of the film is represented by title graphics with subpar Height-Ashbury-style, "groovy" typefaces and graphics that have nothing to do with the film. Ick. Yeah, yeah, I know: "Sixties" = "Bill Graham Winterland Posters." {sigh}
Restoration is a tricky business all right. They screwed up another little-but-really-not-so-little thing in the new restoration of Eraserhead they just did at MoMA, which I'll be discussing sometime else soon in the next few days when I'll be . . .
DREAMING OF DAVID LYNCH (IN SIX PARTS)
David Lynch’s work is never far from my mind. Obviously, I’m not alone. Recently, when Isaac Butler at Parabasis put it to his fellow theatre bloggers (primarily playwrights) to list their influences, Lynch’s name was generally among the ones listed (James Comtois noted this in his list and comments).
The group of posters over at Vinyl Is Heavy have announced “The Lynch Mob,” a series of postings this week (Feb. 12-16) focusing on Lynch. While not a “Blog-a-thon” per se, it seemed like a good excuse to spend this past week watching the entirety of Lynch’s output as director of film/video works (his work in other media either less interesting or interesting enough to be dealt with on its own, you make the call), in chronological order, and put down a few thoughts about his 25-or-so films/videos.
I don’t want or intend to go into any great analytical detail about all the pieces – that would require at least one book, possibly more, and would be reductive as regards the work in any case. A good book already exists containing as much of that as you need, Lynch on Lynch, edited by Chris Rodley.
This is a personal look at Lynch’s works; a few thoughts about what interests me here and there, connections I’ve made, things of note to point out, and variants/problems with the video versions. A breezy overview.
So after making up a list of his works, and pulling out the tapes and DVDs, I went to it from the start. I've made it through everything from 1967 to 1995 thus far, and my first entry (covering Six Figures Getting Sick through Eraserhead) will be up ASAP.
