Showing posts with label Sam Jaffe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sam Jaffe. Show all posts

9/18/2009

DVD Review: Bedknobs and Broomsticks -- Enchanted Musical Edition (1971)



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Talk about thinking outside not just the box but the entire House of Mouse. Similar to the way that Tom Hanks warned Bitty Schram in A League of Their Own that “there's no crying in baseball,” as far as I'm concerned there's no animation involving Nazis either.

Yet, while you don't typically think of “lighthearted family entertainment” and “World War II” going together like “peas and carrots” to quote Hanks in Forrest Gump, luckily Walt Disney decided to put a whole different spin on their tried and true technique of combining live action with animation via 1971's uneven and overlong yet still beautifully crafted Bedknobs and Broomsticks.

Essentially it was the product of quick thinking along with protecting Walt Disney's investment and ensuring that he'd be able utilize the terrific work coming out of every single department at Walt Disney Studios when it became uncertain yet again if Mary Poppins would be granted movie rights by the woman who invented the Julie Andrews heroine in literary form. Thus, Walt Disney purchased author Mary Norton's duo of books that inspired this film to refocus their energies directly on Bedknobs if Poppins author P.L. Travers told them to go “Feed the Birds.”

In fact, the two films would be ideal for a Disney double feature due to the amount of cinematic overlap between the two in terms of cast and crew such as actor David Tomlinson, director Robert Stevenson, as well as musical and animated numbers that either seem repetitious or were designed for Poppins and then presented in Bedknobs as though it were an unofficial sequel and/or interchangeable.

And although it marks the last time that a Disney feature earned an Oscar (this time for special effects) for eighteen years until The Little Mermaid drew viewers “Under the Sea” in 1989 and the combination of live action and animation surpasses other attempts by the studio including the painfully dull Pete's Dragon, it doesn't hold up nearly as well as the “positively perfect” Mary Poppins.

Yet for a long while it works well “in the most delightful way” as an old fashioned magically tinged period piece wherein an endearing Angela Lansbury takes three displaced London siblings under her wand and spell when they arrive in the country setting of Pepperidge Eye where the children were sent to avoid the horrific Nazi bombings of the city.

And although Lansbury's Miss Price shares Mary Poppins' magic touch, she's less devoted to becoming a nanny or host and far more dedicated to finishing her correspondence course as an apprentice witch. While she tries to hide her vocation from young Carrie, Charlie and Paul, the kids catch on soon enough. And faster than you can sing a song, they journey with her to find a missing spell on her flying bed (which definitely beats walking and is far greener than automobiles) as they make the acquaintance of new friends, sing more songs, and travel to an animated land before Price sets her sights on ridding England of Nazi invaders.

While there's nothing objectionable in the film and the musical numbers are extremely well staged including a standout with “Portobello Road,” and it's fun to see Lansbury in a whimsical and feisty pre-Jessica Fletcher Murder She Wrote characterization which is strengthened when she shares scenes with Tomlinson, overall Bedknobs feels extremely disjointed as the action moves uneasily from the harsh reality of wartime to the animated Naboombu.

Since I am unfamiliar with the source material of author Norton's original two books, I can't speculate if the fault of the films was in trying to combine a few too many plots or characters that were spread out between the two works but I think the movie would've managed to overcome the daunting post-Poppins release by dividing up the action into two separate films or leaving out the Nazi angle altogether since it may confuse small children not to have any reference point for what's happening.

Essentially it was intended as a dazzling work of entertainment to inspire awe in youngsters and engage grade school age children with a more substantive plot. Yet by trying to combine the two, the movie falters irrevocably since pouring everything onto that flying bed obviously isn't the right way for parents to start a dialogue on World War II and the horrific devastation that still echoes throughout society today.

And despite the fact that I admire the craftsmanship and high caliber ingredients stirred into the Bedknobs cauldron and realize that without it that Oscar would've been nonexistent but in my view, the right way to address the material and do it justice would've been by avoiding the combination of animation and live action altogether. And perhaps as Roger Ebert suggested, the filmmakers could've used
Naboombu for the setting of one film on its own to satisfy the youngest Mouseketeers. In the same token, by focusing on the characters of the World War II plot as the kids cope with life in the country with an aspiring witch and a phony professor to humorous yet more realistic effect, viewers who today relish the adventures of a young boy who attends a school for witchcraft and wizardry via the Harry Potter franchise would've also found it far more entertaining.

Unfortunately it's blessed and cursed with being a product of the Poppins team. And since it doesn't work on that level, it would have been a worthwhile risk to try and bring in either fresh eyes or a decidedly different technique on board so the movies don't seem to simply ooze into one another despite being seven years apart.

While it's still a nice vintage film and boasts a tremendous amount of quality for a family intended work even by today's standards since Disney never fails to go all out to entertain, it doesn't hold up visually quite as well as Poppins but much like its superior predecessor, it manages to surpass other films of 1971 with a contemporary DVD release since as a period piece, the age of the print doesn't grab our attention as it does in other works made by the House of Mouse set that very same year.

Trying to shoot for today's Disney demographic, the DVD ties in the magical theme the studio's loved for years by linking to Disney Channel's TV series The Wizards of Waverly Place in an extra featurette on movie magic. Additionally it also contains some rare footage including a deleted song and Tomlinson recording vocals for “Portobello Road” in the music studio.

Likewise, staying true to the title of an Enchanted Musical Edition, the DVD celebrates those behind the songs and their place in Bedknobs to make sure that it remained a lighthearted family film with animation and Nazis by keeping things spirited and imaginative without any crying in baseball nor too many peas and carrots.


Text ©2009, Film Intuition, LLC; All Rights Reserved. http://www.filmintuition.com

Unauthorized Reproduction or Publication Elsewhere is Strictly Prohibited.

12/01/2008

DVD Review: The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) -- (2-Disc Special Edition)


Landing Onto DVD & Blu-ray 12/2/08





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Imagine the strange paradox of a science fiction film about a UFO that "suppresses hysteria and defuses paranoia" and one that-- as author Peter Biskind continued in Seeing Is Believing: How Hollywood Taught Us to Stop Worrying & Love the Fifties-- produced a depiction wherein "Earth, not the alien culture, is dystopian," (156-157). Seems tough to imagine, doesn't it?


Well, like many of the allegorical genre films of the 1950s which dealt covertly with issues of conformity (12 Angry Men), teenage homosexuality (Rebel Without a Cause), the McCarthy era (High Noon) just to name a few, director Robert Wise's compelling science fiction classic, which was just listed this year as the fifth best film in the genre by the American Film Institute also had a subtextual message that went beyond the work serving as mere surface level entertainment.

Although it's been preserved as a "National Treasure" since 1995, originally, the film was based on the short fictional piece "Farewell to the Master" by Astounding Stories magazine writer Harry Bates. Adapted by anti-war, left-wing, Christian screenwriter Edmund H. North (Patton), director Robert Wise's film seemed to argue that "Earth (including the U.S.A.), far from being the last word in civilization, as centrists thought it was, exists in a state of virtual barbarism," (Biskind, 157).

Much like Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T., the film's presentation of alien life isn't the monstrosities served up in Independence Day, but in this film, it arrives in the form of Klaatu, played by actor Michael Rennie."Surely the best behaved, most polite alien who ever hopped across hyperspace," as Biskind noted (151), Rennie's Klaatu arrives shortly into the film after his large flying saucer lands right in the heart of Washington D.C.'s mall. With the army drawing down on the saucer for two hours as nothing emerges, finally, instead of a three-eyed monster or blue martian (or "gray" rather as it was shot in black and white), we meet a handsome, well-spoken, and innocuous looking human with pleasing American diction whose opening line to the masses is that, "we have come to visit you in peace and with goodwill."



Of course, with that many eyes focused on the alien with adrenaline charged, itchy trigger fingers, somebody fires directly at Klaatu, and that's when we first set eyes on Gort, his nine foot metal encased "bodyguard" and fellow alien who disintegrates tanks and guns with a laser that emits from a small slit in his facial shield (take that Iron Man). Explaining that instead of a weapon, Klaatu had been hoping to deliver a gift to the American president in order to study life on other planets-- which is now decidedly moot given the gunfire-- he's later moved to Walter Reed Hospital as Gort retreats to the ship to wait.

Turning down an attempt to speak directly to the president alone, Klaatu's mission soon reveals itself as he says that he doesn't have time for the "petty squabbles of countries" and "childish jealousies" facing the globe in that era and needs to "explain [his peaceful message] to all the nations at the same time." Having traveled two hundred fifty million miles from a neighboring planet over the course of five months-- despite his patient demeanor, Klaatu isn't one to settle for any political posturing.

So, finally he checks himself out of the hospital and-- assimilating with the general public-- dons the decade's traditional "gray flannel suit" styled attire, dubbing himself Carpenter, and renting a room under the same roof as the widowed Mrs. Benson (Patricia Neal) and her inquisitive son Bobby. While hysteria floods the headlines of the local newspapers and radio announcements, "Mr. Carpenter" continues on his quest, with young Bobby as his guide as he searches for the wisest person he can find.

While it takes a good fifty-six minutes for us to step inside that famous flying saucer and Patricia Neal's unrealistic, overly neglectful single mother seems a bit too blase about handing her son off to a total stranger when there's "alien activity" about-- the film feels as Leonard Maltin noted "more timely than ever" (although last time I checked grammar it should be "timelier"). This is especially true given its important message of looking past country-lines to becoming united as a whole.

Featuring an exceptional and noteworthy score by frequent Hitchcock composer Bernard Herrmann (which makes excellent use of the genre's fondness for theremins, organs, and strange hums and whirs), the third act of this unusual and intelligent film feels nearly as though we're watching a silent movie as the score takes center stage and Gort becomes our dialogue-free guide.

While Klaatu's eventual resurrection once again and memorable message of peace (to warn against the end of the human race) has definitely left some to correctly interpret the film as subtly Christian, intriguingly, producer Julian Blaustein noted that the Christian angle from North was never discussed with the director or producer in the hopes that it would remain subliminal. However, when censors disagreed with Klaatu's ability to have "unlimited power over life and death," to appease the MPAA, a line was inserted that ultimately "the power of resurrection is reserved to the Almighty Spirit."

And while some have chosen to read into the parallels on that level, more than anything it's a remarkable allegorical left wing look at the troubles facing society after World War II. By giving audiences an alien whom we can relate to-- much like E.T. whose departure also makes us sad and promotes friendship and peace-- the film, which Biskind additionally argued seemed to project a "technological utopia" went against the grain of what was popular for its time.



Morally, in 1951, he noted that the film's "worst crime was not taking sides... lumping the United States together with the Soviet Union in its indictment of world politics. When Klaatu refused to meet alone with the American president, it was tantamount to treason," (pg. 158). While indeed reaction was mixed back in its initial release and aside from some second unit background material, the entire work was filmed on the sound-stages and back-lot of 20th Century Fox as its stars never set foot in the nation's capitol, in one of the DVD commentary tracks as filmmaker Wise speaks with director Nicholas Meyer, he said that the film's main priority was in sharing their stance "against armed conflict in the real world." Furthermore, according to Wise and Blaustein, their intention was "to promote a strong United Nations."

Releasing just in time for next week's hotly anticipated remake starring Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly, which gets audiences psyched with a gripping seven minute sneak preview which precedes the film on disc 1, The Day the Earth Stood Still flies onto shelves in two-disc special editions for both DVD and Blu-ray owners.



Adding to the previous extras available in its past DVD release, viewers have the option of listening to the film in its original mono track (in English, Spanish, or French), English 5.1 Dolby Surround, or via one of two feature commentaries including one with Wise and Meyer and another with film historians along with an isolated score track to view it just with Herrmann's memorable soundtrack.

The second disc is divided into two fan-friendly menus of featurettes and galleries with the option to browse (via your remote) interactive pressbooks, extensive making-of and production photographs, as well as the film's entire shooting script from FADE IN to THE END.

On the featurette menu, there's a number of relatively short bonus documentaries including a brief teasing look at the "History of Flying Saucers" in six minutes, biographical profiles on short story author Harry Bates and the screenwriter Edmond North, a documentary short film, as well as a fascinating look at "Science Fiction as Metaphor" in a sixteen minute intriguing extra that puts the film into perspective with the communist scare, Korean war, spy fears, nuclear worries, and all of the other issues terrifying citizens during the '50s.

Honestly, it's one of the few classic science fiction works from that era that has remarkably lost none of its power and once again seems to be just as important as it was then. And while I can't speak for the new version of Earth-- for the genre at its finest and for some wonderful post-film discussion and food for thought, there's no beating Rennie's Klaatu in Robert Wise's brilliant original movie that Still stands above the rest.