Criterion Collection Blu-ray Review: Thief (1981)

Now Available to Own

It seems somehow anticlimactic to write about the work of director Michael Mann inside my house with the heat of the Arizona sun beating in through the cracks of my living room blinds in the late afternoon.

When it comes to Mann, a fitting tribute would be to dictate this piece from behind the wheel of a top-down American model ‘70s convertible while cruising through questionable urban landscapes with the radio blaring and the heat of the night growing cooler every time I drive through tunnels or atop bridges over troubled bodies of water.

For these images are so quintessentially Mann in nature that even his name lends itself to his masculine aesthetic of an oeuvre that’s perhaps most notable for the impact of his influential smash television series Miami Vice. And whether he’s working on the small screen or the big (as epitomized in his grandest epic Heat), Mann spends as much time visually fixating on shadows as he does on those who live in the gray area between what is black and white and wrong or right on both sides of the law.

A new kind of crime film landscape that can’t be categorized as Film Noir or even Neo-Noir, Michael Mann’s filmography focuses on the dark, shadow-strewn urban noir of the Baby Boom Generation where individuals strive to find the piece of the American dream they believe they were subtextually promised — via the phrase “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” — by any means necessary.

And while those who’ve viewed his entire catalog know that this signature visual style and topical obsession is actually older than Vice, the Criterion Collection’s latest remastered classic gives everyone else the chance to see the character drama that first brought these ideas to cinematic life with the release of his underrated, understated, auspicious feature-filmmaking debut Thief.

In the filmmaker-approved Blu-ray/DVD dual format release, one of the most fascinating things we learn in the set’s behind-the-scenes special features is that these same aesthetic trademarks that populate his entire filmography had actually preoccupied Mann years before he ever picked up a movie camera.

As a native Chicagoan with an admitted "cynicism about institutions,” Mann’s fascination with the urban landscape first started to reveal itself through snapshots he took as a young man in his late teens. Drawn to the architecture of the city, Mann’s early photography was filled with dominant images of bridges along with overwhelming shadows and fog. Moreover, he found himself intrigued by the idea that when you put a figurative “lid” on top of the city (whether it’s via the tops of the buildings or the night sky), you become part of an urban maze.

Like a rat that’s trying to break free of the darkness and restraint, feelings of paranoia, claustrophobia, and a world-weary mentality naturally started to evolve from this visual symbolism. And years later when he made the move to filmmaking, it became clear to Mann that this was the exact mental state and aesthetic look needed for stories that centered on characters that played the angles — all trying to find a shortcut to escape the oppressive nature of the city that surrounded them.

Having filed away these images at the start of his career spent helming short films, television episodes, and documentaries, it wasn’t until he directed 1979’s TV movie The Jericho Mile on location at Folsom Prison that everything clicked for Mann on a visceral level.

Leading right into Thief, this one-two punch kicked off what would become Mann’s career-long study of right vs. wrong. While he would venture into other worlds from time to time, Mann was especially fond of exploring the law and disorder of police and thieves and the way that the sides have much more in common with one another than they’d like to believe.

And even when he found himself going as far back in time as The Last of the Mohicans, the men in his films still try to negotiate their environmental maze, deciding for themselves not only the meaning of their life but existentially just how far they’re willing to go to claim their own unique piece of the American dream.

While it isn’t nearly as splashy as his later films, Thief has a quiet power that still resonates today. Featuring a brilliant, dynamic turn by the so-often larger-than-life James Caan who trades in Sonny Corleone’s hot temper for a (mostly) restrained, emotionally cut-off character, Thief marks one of the actor’s strongest performances that even Caan agrees stands as one of the best “two or three” films he’s ever made.

Based on a confessional work penned by a real-life jewel thief which was published in 1975 under the title The Home Invaders, Mann not only culls a great deal from the printed source but also the man behind the book who portrays a corrupt cop onscreen as well.

Drawing on his Jericho Mile experience in addition to the technical advice of real-life thieves in order to execute a film unparalleled in its authenticity, Thief is notable for just how much it respects its audience.

Not spoon-feeding us with dumbed-down tough guy language, Thief relies on the real terms used on the street among fences and safe crackers to construct richly detailed sequences that illustrate the tricks of the trade and just how much work goes into any given heist.

Likewise knowing that as a thief, Caan’s Frank wouldn't let just anyone in on his secrets, he keeps us similarly at arm’s length in our introduction to the man who talks in code and uses a cover job as a used car salesman to ensure he can always switch to a different “work car” when needed.

Only using certain phones and relying on a strong system of allies in his loyalty-centric business, Mann lets us witness it all while at the same time never letting Frank be so accessible or easily charismatic that when he threatens someone early on, we’re still able to believe he’s an intimidating man of his word.

Having gone to jail for a mere forty-dollar theft as a young man, Frank’s two-year bid turned into a nearly two-decade long one after — being forced to protect himself from unspeakable harm — he added a manslaughter charge to his sentence.

Learning everything he ever needed to know about becoming a real live thief from his best friend, mentor, and father-figure inside the joint, Oklahoma (Willie Nelson), Thief isn’t shy about exposing numerous flaws in our justice system from prison as a criminal trade school to the unchecked corruption of appalling abuse that goes on behind cell doors.

Eager to put his life in order on the outside fulfilling all of the goals he’d made for himself on the inside in a magazine photo collage that he keeps in his wallet at all times, as the film begins, Frank is successfully pulling down two scores a month with his friend and partner Barry (James Belushi).

Yet when Frank’s greed and desire to obtain everything in that collage even faster gets the best of him, he signs on with Leo (Robert Prosky), an underworld figure eager to take on the role of father figure to Frank outside the joint by setting up fool-proof jobs with higher payouts and considerable more risk.

Previously a solitary man who wasn't interested in having so much as a conversation with someone he didn’t know, Frank’s slightly out-of-character decision to trust Leo does make us cry “foul” as it goes against everything we’d learned about him. Fortunately, this new alliance marks Thief’s only false note of contrivance in an otherwise flawless film.

Originally signing on with Leo for a test run only to realize fairly quickly that he may have gotten in over his head, Frank soon begins attracting unwanted attention on both sides of the law.

Jeopardizing not only himself but his burgeoning relationship with a diner cashier (played by Tuesday Weld) who, much like Frank has had more than her fair share of hard times, once Frank successfully talks her into taking a leap of faith and marrying him, his own leap of faith with Leo begins to spiral out-of-control.

Realizing that he must find a new way out of the urban maze of obstacles that have only grown more perilous since he joined forces with Prosky’s gangster, Frank discovers that the closer he gets to achieving his version of the American dream, the closer he comes to death.

Filled with gorgeous symbolism in its stunning frame composition and strong sense of style that helped foreshadow all of the Mann movies that would follow, the amazingly cleaned-up image on the Blu-ray transfer makes the visuals look as good as some of Mann’s newest films. Likewise, the Tangerine Dream film score has never sounded better, similarly serving as a great precursor to the way he’d go on to use music on TV in Vice and in film via the underrated Collateral in addition to many others.

Marking the feature film debuts of James Belushi and Dennis Farina in front of the camera as well as Mann’s behind the lens, Criterion’s release offers a bevy of worthwhile bonus features including an eye-opening interview between the director and Variety’s Scott Foundas.

Also boasting a commentary track, while the usually astounding essay included in the collectible booklet is a bit weak in its attention to detail (naming the wrong prison inhabited by our lead) and not quite as compelling as the ones included in recent releases such as Rififi and Nashville, the breathtaking attention to detail in Thief's restoration more than makes up for it.

While one can only hope that this dazzling release will be a harbinger of more Michael Mann on Criterion to come, it’s a stunning technical update and remarkable feature debut that reminds viewers that sometimes the first film a director makes can set the tone for an entire career.
   

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DVD Review: Bottle Shock (2008)

This Rare Cinematic Vintage
Of Sophistication & Charm Is
Now Available to Own From Fox DVD

Related Titles for the Wine Enthusiast
(Note: They Go Equally Well With Red or White)

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There's a moment in Bottle Shock when Six Feet Under and Ugly Betty star Freddy Rodriguez manages to steal the entire film while giving a fiercely passionate speech arguing that in order to make truly great wine, you must have it in your blood.

Granted, he is eventually proven wrong by the film's underdog hero in the form of his boss Jim Barrett (Bill Pullman)-- a gifted new vintner in this retelling of one of the most astounding feats of wine-making in American history as Napa vineyards were put on the map when they managed to outperform in competition with the celebrated French varietals during a blind taste-test. However, ultimately what Rodriguez's Gustavo is arguing for is above all having the utmost respect for the grape which begins with the rich soil that one must live and breathe in order to master their craft.

A picturesque tribute to California's wine version of paradise-- husband and wife team Randall Miller and Jody Savin's sublimely beautiful retelling of Barrett's 1976 landmark Time Magazine reported and Smithsonian Museum historical success which opened the doors to varietals from all around the globe seems to have been made with the same level of integrity, teamwork, craftsmanship, and devotion to the ultimate offering that makes one think that if they were to ever seek a second career, Miller and Savin may become quite successful as vintners in their own right.

The soil in this case was not only the original source material but Ross Schwartz's original screenplay which centered on the now forgotten Paris tastings that set the stage for the modern day California wineries celebrated in 20th Century Fox's 2004 Oscar winning release Sideways (which has incidentally been released on Blu-ray and made available in DVD form as a "Perfect Pairing" two film pack along with Shock back on 2/3/09).

Reworking the script to fashion it to their own tastes by staying as close to the facts as possible (as far as the real life characters were concerned), they added in two great female roles including Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Eliza Dushku as a strong-willed bartender and Transformers' Rachael Taylor as a beautiful intern who comes between Gustavo and Jim's son Bo (Chris Pine). Additionally, Savin and Miller tended to their "grape" by ensuring they had the best collaborators involved by surrounding themselves with a large number of cast and crew they'd worked alongside in their two previous independent films, Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School and Nobel Son.

Soon after quickly penning "twenty pages over a few days" of the Bottle Shock script to present to their Nobel Son star Alan Rickman-- the actor signed on as well as two other Nobel players Pullman and Dushku. Thus, the film found its two ultimate "outsider" anchors in both America and France respectively as the British Rickman plays struggling Parisian wine shop owner Steven Spurrier who (given the table closest to the kitchen at events and with a nearly empty shop) concocts the idea to stage the blind taste-test as a publicity stunt to raise revenue and Pullman portrays an attorney who'd left his job after his wife left him and married his boss to run a vineyard.

While on the surface, the two men couldn't be more different as Rickman excels as playing the ultimate snob and Pullman infuses his part with the same good-natured blue-collared heart he's used in numerous performances-- after awhile, it becomes very apparent that they're much more alike than they realize as both are stubborn individuals who feel insecure in their professions, don't exactly fit in in their surroundings and are staking their livelihood on their passionate dream.

While the characterization of Jim's son Bo Barrett (Chris Pine)-- a hippie slacker surfer dude who squanders all he has-- initially grates on the nerves especially upon the arrival of Taylor's gorgeous Sam who catches the eye of both Bo and Gustavo and we find ourselves rooting against Bo for a majority of the film because of this fictionalized plot, it's highly rewarding to see the way he gets himself together to help his father in the end.

Gorgeously shot by Michael J. Ozier who made an effort to "maximize the magic hour" just before sunset as "the whole crew would go into shooting overdrive" to get the "golden hue" tinge that's most apparent during Northern California's harvest time as director Randall Miller notes in the press release-- the film's exceptional beauty makes your breath catch, especially on a DVD up-convert or Blu-ray player and although the transfer to DVD is gorgeous, I for one would love to see this film (as well as the new version of Sideways) on Blu-ray.

Although Bottle Shock was filmed over the period of a month and a half after securing the permission of Sonoma's town counsel and relocating to the film's location two months prior "with the production financing still only partially in place," (again echoing the economic struggle and endless bank loans Barrett needed to turn his winery into a success back in 1976, the film's breakneck pace isn't apparent at all in its roving picturesque final cut.

Amazingly completed just two days before it debuted at the 2008 Sundance Film Festival to a standing ovation (after obtaining a special exception to submit their film for acceptance even though photography began following the cut-off date), their gorgeous indie sleeper which earned some critical raves and a few far too predictable comparisons to not only Sideways but Fox's other indie that could Little Miss Sunshine and the '70s era underdog epic Rocky-- sadly flew under the radar upon its limited national release.

Although you do wish that a few of the plot-points involving Pine's less-than-identifiable Bo would have been reworked and find yourself especially taken in by the film's subplot featuring Rodriguez's Gustavo-- it's a highly satisfying feel-great film that's sophisticated, stylish, smart and well-worth tracking down whether or not you can tell a Cabernet from a Merlot or a Chardonnay from a Pinot Grigio (although if this is the case, you may want to keep that to yourself).

Shock features the DVD standards of deleted scenes and audio commentary with the cast and crew. However, two of the best gems included are An Underdog's Journey: The Making of Bottle Shock which offers some engaging comments from supporting players like scene stealer Dennis Farina as Rickman's sole customer in Paris and a mini-documentary on Chateau Montelena: One Winery's Search for Excellence. For, just like the making-of-featurette, it introduces us to the real Bo and Jim Barrett and seems to indicate-- much like Savin and Miller's passion for cinematic storytelling, the Barretts also seem to have their craft in their blood.

The Grand

Director:
Zak Penn

In The Grand, Woody Harrelson’s character Jack Faro is proof that for addicts, sometimes admitting you have a problem is not the first step. In fact, in his case, it seems to have been the gateway that perhaps just having only one, two, or eight addictions weren’t enough as—cheaper by the dozen—it’s Jack’s policy to “bring ‘em on” becoming addicted to every possible drug known to man. And while we’re at it, he threw marriage into the mix, making Elizabeth Taylor look like a blushing amateur, having walked down the aisle exactly 74 times and although he tells the camera in Zak Penn’s hilarious Christopher Guest-like mockumentary that he loved each and every one of his wives, within minutes we realize that he can’t exactly place them all.

Soon, true to form, Jack completely forgets the fact that he’d once wed the lovely, Shannon Elizabeth who works as an employee of the casino he’d inherited from his grandfather. Incidentally, it's the same place he’s darn near run into the ground with disastrous theme choices for its reconstruction including renovating the classic old school Rabbit’s Foot Casino so that it resembles a nuclear reactor or pays homage to the great Chicago Fire. Obviously, the drugs have affected his mental state and rock bottom for Jack came when he was kicked out of his own casino and-- although he can’t honestly remember-- he believes he’d given the order himself.

Needless to say he’s got a lot of work to do and fittingly we first encounter Jack where he’s resided for two years at rehab where he’s up to his Casanova like old ways, wooing his doctor with a song about the twelve steps, although he’s only on the first one. Promising his lovesick doctor that he’ll write, he’s convinced to leave rehab to try and save his family’s Rabbit’s Foot Casino by playing for a place in the final round of the six person North American Indoor Poker League winner take all tournament, complete with a ten million dollar prize.

Harrelson’s hilarious performance serves as the film’s anchor and coming off the heels of his impressive work in the somber No Country for Old Men and The Walker, it's a nice stepping stone to an even funnier ensemble piece than his work alongside Will Ferrell in Semi-Pro. In order to give Harrelson more to work with, Zak Penn invites numerous veteran comedians to the cinematic party as well. Although IMDb reports the script was a mere twenty-nine pages, in the hands of improvisational pros and versatile entertainers like Cheryl Hines, David Cross, Ray Romano, Jason Alexander, Richard Kind, Judy Greer, and countless others, they elevate what should have been a lackluster forgettable rental into one of the most surprisingly entertaining DVD sleepers of 2008.

One of the first and incidentally least likable competitors we meet is Chris Parnell’s angry, anal-retentive, mathematically obsessed Harold who not only lives with his mother but makes her life a living hell ensuring she’s always preparing his nutritious brain food, complete with supplements. Moving the action to Massapequa, we meet one of the competition’s likeliest frontrunners, Lainie (Cheryl Hines), who given the rarity of her gender in the finals is merely dubbed “The Woman” instead of being served up one of the memorable, alternately cheesy, and hip nicknames. Having been raised by a hyper masculine, challenge hungry, dysfunctional father (Gabe Kaplan) alongside her fellow aggressive and obnoxious player and brother Larry (David Cross), Lainie is used to dealing with difficult men. However, her main preoccupation away from cards seems to be tirelessly supporting her husband Ray Romano who hasn’t been the same since he survived a lightning strike. Now filling his time by inventing new ideas such as “the round beach towel,” nonsensical sayings, and odd handshakes, Romano’s biggest concern seems to be in negotiating with his wife over who has to look after their children if her shot at the championship conflicts with his Yahoo Fantasy Football draft time slot.

Of course, Vegas isn’t Vegas without veteran old-timers and they arrive in the form of an odd turn from legendary director Werner Herzog as a surprisingly hilarious and frightening man simply dubbed “The German” who shares that he feels most alive and ensures maximum human energy by killing an animal everyday. We also meet Dennis Farina’s cowboy-hat-and-boot-wearing Deuce Fairbanks who, when he isn’t threatening to whack those who annoy him, bemoans the downfall of Sin City when they began letting people wearing culottes into the casinos.

Ordinarily with that many players, one would think they’d have their work cut out for them already, but the biggest question mark arrives later on. The players don't know exactly what to think when the laughably amateurish and earnestly friendly, successful online party poker winner Andy Andrews (Richard Kind) abandons the icy temperatures of Wisconsin, complete with his supportive wife (Judy Greer) in tow, hoping they’ll be the ones to capture the ten million dollar booty in order to flee the cold weather and Greer’s self-owned Ribbon Store to move somewhere warm.

One of the perils of releasing a mockumentary after Spinal Tap performer turned director Christopher Guest has basically perfected the art and turned it into a science with his brilliant classics Waiting for Guffman and Best in Show, is that one will never be able to reach the astronomically high bar set by those films. However, as mock-docs go, I’ve seen far worse, and I was quite surprised by the freewheeling, rapid-fire humor of The Grand which seemed to belong to the vintage Woody Allen and Steve Martin school of a gag-a-minute approach (with only half being successful). I’d even go as far as to say I’d watch this one again in a heartbeat before I popped Guest’s sharp but largely melancholy A Mighty Wind back into my disc player.

Predictably most critics employed a “party” analogy to utilize in their critiques in describing The Grand’s overwhelmingly large cast that’s nearly bursting at the seams, thus pointing out that with that many “attendees” it’s hard for viewers to become attentive hosts, giving each an adequate amount of attention. This being said, Penn knows which individuals are worth spending more time with and which cameos are best left trimmed for by the editors (for example: only a few moments of Brett Ratner and much more Jason Alexander). And with the one exception of wanting to see more of the scene stealing Herzog as we’ve never seen him before—amazed that this tyrannical, mad Dr. Strangelove like character is embodied by the same person who brought us the masterful Rescue Dawn-- when our attention is largely directed at veteran performers like Harrelson and Hines, we know we’re in good hands.

So when Incredible Hulk writer Zak Penn is the one holding The Grand’s deck of cards, the audience can lean back and say, as Shirley MacLaine famously quipped at the end of The Apartment, “shut up and deal.”