The Film:
There’s a lot about the human brain and its processes that are relatively unknown outside of theories, namely about the fragility of memories and the state of consciousness within those trapped in an dormant state. Cinema’s use of this vagueness evolves with time as more concrete information emerges, but oftentimes the gap between fact and fiction is foregone for the thrill of storytelling, where the conflict it breeds becomes vastly more important than the science and ethics behind it. Vanishing Waves, a Lithuanian production from writer/director Kristina Buozyte, approaches those themes head-on by asking the question: “What might occur if a male research scientist networked with the mind of a female coma patient, enabling them to physically interact in the fabric of normal memories and mildly abstract thoughts” What results is a resonant, provocative, versatile expression of morality and sensation, a lyrical sci-fi exploration of the desperation of loneliness and the need for sensual connection.

Granted, Vanishing Waves doesn’t break any new ground with the physical and psychological structure it explores, integrating doses of Altered States with the science-lite thrills of The Cell and Inception (and a wee bit of Fringe). After computer simulations suggest that neurotransmission with a comatose body should be possible with cutting-edge tools, Lukas (Marius Jampolskis), an obsessive young scientist with a rocky marriage, straps into the networking gear, gets into an isolation tank, and syncs with the mind of a then-unknown patient. With a bit of trial and error due to sensory overload and attunement, eventually he lands within a semi-corporeal dreamscape where he interacts with a woman … or, more accurately, with her thoughts and memories. When Lukas experiences this for the first time, his hesitation to report the full truth of what he’s seen — and felt — complicates his future sessions, the peculiar and sexually-charged bond he builds with “Aurora” (Jurga Jutaite) meddling with both his personal life and the veracity of the research data.

Director Buozyte’s disciplined, deliberately-paced script with co-writer Bruno Samper tiptoes the line between real concepts and technobabble for its harder sci-fi backbone, as it becomes clear that they takes Vanishing Waves‘ science and philosophy seriously. The explanations of how this advanced tech works — and how it affects both the user and the subject — maintain a balance between unavoidable outlandishness and relative practicality, occurring during conversations that rarely feel like easy opportunities to merely unload info. Buozyte seems to understand how vague and theoretical the concept can appear (and has), so  she’s taken proactive measures to make its quirks and logical challenges as relatable as possible, down to the ethical concerns of Lukas’ evolving conundrum. Once Lukas drops into the partly-conceptual realm of the female subject’s mind, the stage is set for an involving clash of pathos and morality that has justified the means that brought him there, which will become important as the film progresses.

Vanishing Waves opens the door for a personal human exploration due its levelheaded managing of the tech, driven by the gripping — albeit self-controlled — visual temperament of Aurora’s mental space. Focused on the frailty of the boundaries that separate reality, memory, emotion, and mental fabrication, Buozyte not only shows an interest in those lines, but also how they’re crossed and react to the psychological integrity of both the research subject and the researcher. This happens almost entirely within the arresting imagery captured by cinemtographer Feliksas Abrukauskas that twists the conventions of a dream-like space: ethereal waves and clouds, a boxy half-erected domicile, and the expanses of an isolated beach, forming an environment that’s as eerie as it is familiarly idyllic. This isn’t a project that purely wants to occupy the audience’s mind with whimsical visuals, though, as doing so would distract from the human perspective it conveys about it being a space easily mistaken for reality or fantasy.

It’d be natural to assume that the relationship between Lukas and Aurora would revolve around conversation — calls of anxiety from a mind trapped in a comatose body wouldn’t feel out-of-place — but for the most part Vanishing Waves chooses to avoid straightforward communication in lieu of obscure, sensory-driven contact, a raw melding of synapses and dreamscapes. Part of that boils down to the roots of Buozyte’s artistic desires: there’s a degree of overt eroticism in their time together that’s  both intentionally provocative and undeniably poetic, where their passion delves into something closer to a Freudian psychosexual interaction. Calling their relationship a “romance” would probably be inaccurate, as would judging the chemistry between actors Jurga Jutaite and Marius Jampolskis based on that convention; their intimacy is raw, playful, confusing, and at times eerily vacant. Perhaps that’s part of the intent and perhaps it isn’t, but either way it’s easy to comprehend why Lukas would become enamored.

Driven by soul-stirring music and progressively involved visual motifs, such as an almost Cronenberg-like melding of writhing bodies and distressing glimpses at memories, very little of Vanishing Waves stays clear-cut as it approaches its bittersweet conclusion. Director Buozyte allows these vivid sensations to remain Lukas’ and Aurora’s guiding force through sly abstractions, extended shots in the vein of Andrei Tarkovsky or Stanley Kubrick, and even subtle meta-hints towards what the director aims to accomplish (there’s a moment where Lukas plays a gorgeous video-game, ICO, involving a protagonist leading a ghostly girl out of their prison world). Whether some images linger longer than necessary for the point to get across doesn’t really matter: none of them are devoid of relevance, no matter how lengthy, conceptual, or sensual. They create a captivating, often lurid mosaic that escalates in tension, conveying enough emotional clarity to justify their duration as a stunning examination of the human brain’s mystique.

The DVD:

 

Vanishing Waves arrives from Artsploitation Films in a clear, open-book two-disc case that shows off the reversible artwork for the presentation: the designs are almost identical, but one side covers up the risque portions visible on the other. Crisp, wintry artwork covers both disc, while a sturdy Booklet contains photos and an in-depth interview conducted by Artsploitation Films with writers Kristina Buozyte and Bruno Samper.

Video and Audio:

Damn. The cinematography in Vanishing Waves is really something to behold: cool and clinical tones dominate both the experiment’s workspace and the conjoined dreamscape, with a few instances of deep, rich palette choices in skin tones and insistently warm lighting to break it up. To say that the 2.35:1-framed, widescreen-enhanced transfer from Artsploitation Films does it justice would be an understatement, as it almost makes one forget about it not being in high-definition. The contrast in this film can be pretty complex, such as the deep-blue colors of the food on the dining table and the complicated darkness during lower-light sequences, but this transfer handles them all like a champ. Contours and details are razor-sharp. Skin tones are nimble and natural. Metallic surfaces and shining can be extremely convincing. And the fluidity of motion, whether it’s slow zooms or fluid tracking are beyond satisfying for the standard-definition medium.

Atmospheric sound becomes rather important to how the film resonates, and this 5-channel Dolby Digital track hits all the right notes. The most consistent aural elements are the subtle, persistent hums laced together with the post-rock score from Peter Von Poehl, which magnificently unsettle the soundstage (and, by extension, the audience) with subtle bass activity and sprawl across the channels. The track’s clarity factors into how effective small, slight effects can be, such as the dumping of a beverage over a person’s head and the ripples of water, which Artsploitation Films gets right exceptionally often — and, on occasion, those subtle environmental tones travel to the rear channels for an immersive punch. The mix of Lithuanian and English languages stays clear, decently-balanced, and somewhat aware of the bass channels, and the track knows how to navigate still, near-soundless moments without any distortion. It’s a great treatment. Exceptional English subtitles accompany the track.

Special Features:

Artsploitation Films have presented plenty of really cool supplements in this package, all except for the Trailers appearing on Disc Two, but only a few of them are focused on the creation of Vanishing Waves itself. The Making of Vanishing Waves (18:27, 16×9) blends interviews with some exquisite behind-the-scenes photography, where Kristina Buozyte and her crew discuss rehearsals, adapting to budgetary concerns, and making the material on paper come to life. The glimpses at Buozyte directing on-set  end up being more interesting than the stock interviews, though. Also, a dedicated Cineuropa Interview with Kristina Buozyte (7:27, 4×3), which was recorded during the Segovia European Film Festival in November of 2012, has also been included to provide more of the director’s perspective. Don’t forget that the Booklet included also has a lengthy, terrific discussion with Buozyte and co-writer Bruno Samper, and be sure to knock the pointer down all the way to the bottom of the features screen for a brief, photo-driven easter egg.

Two of the coolest features, however, don’t offer much in the way of substantive analysis of the film itself. The biggest supplement available is Kristina Buozyte’s first feature-length film, The Collectress (1:27:50, 16×9), a surprisingly adept and dramatically weighty film about a speech therapist who loses her ability to comprehend emotions after a traumatic event. The film also stars actor Marius Jampolskis, so that adds to the relevance. Furthermore, Artsploitation Films have also included, much to my surprise, all eighteen track of the full Motion Picture Soundtrack, playable through the DVD menu. While an exploration of the visual effects or a commentary with the writers would’ve been nice, the supplements included here are certainly worth the time and more extensive than one might expect from a budgeted film from Lithuania.

Final Thoughts:

Without knowing what to expect of Kristina Buozyte’s style of direction and the clear lite-erotica conveyed through the film’s promo materials, the science-fiction premise behind Vanishing Waves — a researcher enters the mind of a comatose woman and, through sensory and sensual experiences, builds an ethically-questionable relationship — was enough to enthusiastically jump in regardless of how it might indulge certain impulses. What I discovered here, though, is a surprisingly lucid and self-controlled mix of provocative imagery and science-minded moral contemplation, where every instance it pushes a boundary also carries a thematic purpose and some form of emotional gravity tied to the narrative. Performed with restrained power by its actors and captured with a entrancingly surreal tone in mind, director Buozyte has gotten her hands dirty with a familiar idea and brought it to a practical, challenging level of artistic expression.

Artsploitation Films’ presentation of the film looks and sounds exceptional, too, and they’ve included a number of slick extras in their package. Highly Recommended to sci-fi and indie fans, with the knowledge that you’ll be dealing with some light erotic material, gradual pacing and deliberately abstract cinema.

Thomas Spurlin, Staff Reviewer — DVDTalk Reviews | Personal Blog/Site

In 10 Words or Less
A modern mystery classic

 

Reviewer’s Bias*
Loves: Good mysteries
Likes: Ben Stiller, Jake Kasdan
Dislikes: On-demand DVD costs
Hates: Out-of-print films

The Film
Let me be your Sophia Petrillo. Picture it…the late ‘90s, 1998 to be precise. Hollywood is churning out incredible films like Gods and Monsters, American History X, The Big Lebowski and many many others (along with plenty of crap like The Avengers and Godzilla.) But lost in the waves of the big releases is the directing debut of Lawrence Kasdan’s boy Jake, who made his big break with a oh-so-timely detective story. Because in a year where three of the biggest films were special-effects spectacles and another three were kids movies, film noir is certainly the genre to turn to for success. Thus, it’s no surprise that, despite very positive reviews and a screening at Cannes, it disappeared from theaters quickly and has gone mostly forgotten, not even listed on the Wikipedia page on films of the ‘90s.

Of course, if box-office results and quality were connected in the world of film, critics wouldn’t be having aneurysms every time a dumb catch-all parody film finished the weekend at number one. Often, truly great films fail to catch fire in theaters, receding into the shadows, spoken about in hushed whispers on online message boards where wishes/rumors of a Criterion rebirth swirl. Zero Effect has lived in a strata with an even lower profile than that, a victim of its existence as a small genre film lacking in high-octane stars whose fan bases keep films alive. However, mention the name in the right company, and the reverence comes tumbling forth for Darryl Zero (Bill Pullman), Steve Arlo (Ben Stiller) and the case of the man who lost his keys.

 

Zero is the world’s most private investigator, never meeting with his clients, and often solving cases without ever leaving his well-secured home. His connection to the world at large is Arlo, who acts as his liaison, to the detriment of Arlo’s relationship with his girlfriend Jess (Angela Featherstone.) Together, they take on a case from Gregory Stark (Ryan O’Neal), a big-shot businessman who has lost his keys, and as a result is now being blackmailed. Stark isn’t very forthcoming with details, forcing Zero to head to Portland for his investigation. There, he uses his gifts for observation and logic and his knowledge of human behavior to get deeper into Stark’s story, as well as finding himself falling for Gloria (Kim Dickens), whom he believes is a suspect in the case. Naturally, it gets very complicated, and every revelation forces him to re-evaluate what he thinks he knows. The clues and investigative twists and turns are fascinating and all make brilliant sense in the context of the story (though apparently they aren’t all exactly true in reality.)

For his first time behind the camera, Kasdan, who came with a stage background and no feature-film experience, couldn’t have asked for a better team to work with, starting with his DP Bill Pope, who lends his usual top-notch sense of style to the proceedings, resulting in exciting camera movements, which lend energy to a film that’s focused mainly on dialogue (in fact, there’s no actual action scenes to speak of.) Nothing is over the top, and nothing feels unnecessary, as the style is tied deeply to the substance, as Kasdan and Pope’s backgrounds balance each other nicely.

A lot of that is because of the wonderfully talented cast in front of the camera, with Pullman and Dickens playing one of the great duos in detective-film history. Pullman’s Zero is goofy, yet composed, capable of being both in control and wacky. No matter how outlandish his discoveries were or the methods he used to discern them, in Pullman’s hands, they are all believable, as he makes you believe in Zero as a character and detective. Dickens, on the other hand, constantly keeps you guessing, and you can easily buy anything she says, while at the same time questioning her at every turn. It’s a fine line to walk, but she does it quite well. Stiller walks a similar line, providing some minor comedic relief as the only character to knowingly interact with the reclusive Zero, but also helping give Zero added depth thanks to the effects of the Arlo-Jess conflict. It’s an economic film that gets the most out of its small arsenal.

 

The DVD
A one-disc release, this film is packaged in a standard keepcase, and seems to be a straight repressing of the original DVD (only as a one-sided disc, without the pan-and-scan flip-side), with a static, full-frame menu that offers the option to watch the film, select a scene, check out the extras and adjust languages. There are no audio options, but subtitles are available in English, French and Spanish.

The Quality
The anamorphic widescreen transfer on this disc hasn’t changed since the original release, which isn’t a great thing, considering the 1998 transfer has some very noticeable noise and frequent, though minor dirt and spots. There’s a decent level of fine detail, but it’s certainly not as sharp an image as you’d expect in today’s market. Color and black levels are fine, an important element for a film that’s often quite dark in appearance.

The Dolby Digital 5.1 track doesn’t have a great deal to do in this dialogue-heavy film, but it makes sure you can hear everything clearly, while the surrounds pick up a touch of work with a small amount of atmospheric effects and music enhancement. Keep your expectations on the low side and the non-nonsense presentation’s solid basics won’t let you down.

The Extras
The big extra here is an audio commentary by Kasdan, obviously with Laserdisc in mind, since DVD was in its infancy. He does a fine job of avoiding dead air, and offering insight into the production, as well as offering some story notes along the way, making it a well-rounded and informative track. Obviously a fan of the medium, he wonders if people listen to these commentaries, and even sets up a game to find out who does. If I ever meet Mr. Kasdan, I fully intend to cash in on his offer.

The rest of the DVD qualifies as a retro throwback, with a handful of brief text extras, including Cast & Crew bios (check Kasdan’s and wonder how he would have snagged the gig without his father’s name), “Kasdan’s Fresh Spin on an Old Genre” (a few paragraphs about detective stories) and “Location” (discussing the use of Portland for the film.) There’s also “Reel Recommendations” a set of most unconnected movies you might also like, with a trailer for The Man Who Knew Too Little, as well as the theatrical trailer for Zero Effect.

 

The Bottom Line
Zero Effect had its ardent fans upon its release, but it’s fallen by the wayside over the years, becoming a severely underrated modern noir film that takes a backseat to more recent efforts like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. However, it holds up extremely well and remains a well-plotted mystery populated by excellent performances. This DVD allows newcomers to find this out-of-print insta-classic in good quality and at least one solid extra, though if you need to, there are used copies out there that can be obtained for less than this MOD offering. Either way, it’s a must-have for the many viewings you’ll get from it.

Francis Rizzo III is a native Long Islander, where he works in academia. In his spare time, he enjoys watching hockey, writing and spending time with his wife, daughter and puppy.Check out 1106 – A Moment in Fictional Time or his convention blog called Conning Fellow

*The Reviewer’s Bias section is an attempt to help readers use the review to its best effect. By knowing where the reviewer’s biases lie on the film’s subject matter, one can read the review with the right mindset.

Hanna-Barbera Meets Irwin Allen. Warner Bros’ Archive Collection of hard-to-find cult and library titles has released The Beasts are on the Streets, the 1978 made-for-TV disaster flick directed by James Bond helmsman Peter Hunt, and starring Carol Lynley, Dale Robinette, Billy Green Bush, Philip Michael Thomas, Casey Biggs, Burton Gilliam, Sharon Ullrick, and Anna Lee. Coming out near the tail end of the 70s disaster genre’s peak, The Beasts are on the Streets was another attempt by Joseph Barbera to expand into family-friendly live-action production, and taken for what it is–a disaster movie about rampaging animals breaking out of a wildlife sanctuary–it’s quite silly and fun, especially for younger viewers. No extras for this good-looking fullscreen transfer.

At the African Wildlife Park in Texas, former “white hunter”-turned-ranger Kev Johnson (Dale Robinette) is alerted to a medical emergency by fellow ranger Rick (Casey Biggs): a camel is in breach labor. Calling up nearby vet Dr. Claire McCauley (Carol Lynley) for assistance, Kev and Claire deliver the calf () while trading banter about their complicated, frustrating romance: he wants her to marry him, while she doesn’t want any man to tell her or her daughter, Sandy (Michelle Walling), what to do. Meanwhile, good ‘ol boys Jim Scudder and Al Loring (Billy Green Bush and Burton Gilliam), back from bagging a deer, almost cut off tanker trucker Carl Evans (Bill Thurman), who, later on, blasts his air horn in glee when he sees the hunters pulled over for speeding. Catching up with the trucker, Scudder pretends he’s going to shoot Carl, who, suffering from some malady that affects his vision, pulls off the highway, runs an intersection, and promptly plows his out-of-control rig along the African Wildlife Park‘s fence line. Almost immediately, hundreds of animals, including ostriches, rhinos, bears, elephants, and hungry tigers and lions (what…no apes), escape, menacing the cars on the roads and spreading out into the unsuspecting outlying communities.

 Growing up in the 70s, no movie genre made more of a visceral, lasting impact on me than disaster movies. Not many Westerns except for Wayne’s yearly outings were playing at the time, and spy movies, with the exception of Bond, were rather drab for a long time there (try getting excited over a double feature of The Mackintosh Man and The Tamarind Seed some Saturday night). Sci-fi adventures were extremely hit and miss until “you know what” premiered in ’77 (sure Zardoz is fun to watch now, but try it as an 8-year-old). Thrillers or mysteries were close seconds…if they were fast and violent (something like The Seven-Ups would have us coming back the next day…before we feel asleep during The Drowning Pool). Disaster movies, though, were never-fail. I didn’t see one I didn’t like during that long-gone “golden age,” even if I knew it was junk (you think I cared that they just threw a Hot Wheels car into a tub of dirty water for Damnation Alley‘s big finale). The excesses and cliched conventions of the genre weren’t drawbacks, but highly-anticipated treats; whether they “worked” (Maureen Stapleton’s heartbreaking subplot in Airport) or not (Erik Estrada saying, “I like my coffee sweet, mommy,” while he sexually harrasses Christopher Norris in Airport 1975) was completely beside the point. The brilliant examples of the genre (I passed out cold when my old man said he was taking me to a drive-in double-feature of The Towering Inferno and The Poseidon Adventure) and the offal (I sat completely alone in a 900+ seat theater loving every single minute of The Swarm), were as like one. If you were a kid and felt the theater start to crumble when that first tremor hit in Earthquake, or you saw George Kennedy make love to Bibi Andersson on a bear rug in The Concorde…Airport ’79…well, you don’t forget those sorts of things. Not ever.

 And the same thing for small-scale TV disasters, too. If you were a fan of the genre back then, you probably already sensed the fad would fade sooner rather than later when numerous low-budget network knock-offs starting popping up with regularity–but that didn’t stop you from watching every one of them, and remembering most (someone help me out: what’s the one where they drive a Beetle covered with bees into the Astrodome and crank up the arena’s A/C). Sure, the gold standard was producer Irwin Allen’s offerings like Fire! and Flood! and Cave-In! (yes, the exclamation points did help make them more exciting), but if you saw that even someone as unlikely as cartoon giant Hanna-Barbera was getting in on the act, you tuned in. I saw The Beasts are on the Streets when it premiered back in May of 1978 (right inbetween Gray Lady Down‘s debut in March, and right before The Swarm‘s notoriously ballyhooed premiere in July), but I can’t remember the network (it feels like an NBC picture). The only thing I remembered about it, prior to watching this disc, was Carol Lynley, because I had a huge thing for her from The Poseidon Adventure and B-horror classic, The Shuttered Room, and Blazing Saddles‘ Burton Gilliam cackling in a truck. Other than that, it was a blur to me.

 So, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed catching it again–with at least half of that feeling, admittedly, coming from seeing my littlest kids enjoy it, too. Written by Laurence Heath (a true headcase whom nonetheless wrote all kinds of good and bad television, include trash classic, Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls), from a story by Frederick Louis Fox (Elvis’ Charro! and lots of TV Westerns), The Beasts are on the Streets‘s premise is rather ingenuous…even if I’m not too sure it would work out that way (wouldn’t those animals be spooked to the other side of the park by a huge explosion and burning tanker truck, instead of immediately piling out of the hole in the fence). Necessarily held back from delivering even PG-rated thrills because it’s 70s TV and because of Hanna-Barbera’s commitment to family-friendly fare, the worst you’re going to see here is some tame tigers playfully wrestling with their trainers…and that’s about it.

 However, director Peter Hunt, a consummate action editor/director, who helmed what it is still the best movie in the Bond series, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, keeps things bouncing along despite the budget, constantly cross-cutting between several sequences to jack up the suspense, with all of them cleanly designed and executed (you have to give credit to the writers here, too–this movie throws in everything, from exploding tanker trucks to bear attacks, to a little girl in her home menaced by a lioness, to said same lioness menacing a heart surgeon during an emergency open heart operation, to ostrich attacks via VW Bug, to a last-minute brush fire). As for the acting and the “disaster victim backstories,” Lynley and Robinette won’t surprise you with any of their pro forma bantering; however, they have an agreeable, easy chemistry together that doesn’t hurt, while more importantly, they don’t insult us by taking any of this too seriously (hamming up their scenes would only emphasize the script’s bare spots). Familiar face Billy Green Bush, though, walks away with the acting honors here, helping to get across a reasonably intriguing subplot of a controlling, headstrong father who doesn’t listen when he should, and who thinks his shy, hunting-hating son (Jeff Bongfeldt) needs to become a man by foolishly joining him in a nighttime lion shoot (the best acting John Stephenson dubbing in his Flintstones‘ “Mr. Slate” voice for the helicopter pilot). As for the action scenes, sure some of the stuff is a little silly (nobody noticed that lioness just waltzing into an operating room), but remember: that’s what makes the genre so much fun. So if you’re into the black panther trying to eat the people in that one car, only to find yourself cracking up when a bear walks by on its hind legs looking for a ball to balance on its nose, it’s okay. It’s that kind of movie.

 0The DVD:

The Video:
The fullscreen, 1.37:1 transfer for The Beasts are on the Streets looks pretty good, with solid color, a sharp image, and only some minor scratches and dirt.

The Audio:
The Dolby Digital English mono audio track is quite clean, with no hiss and a decent re-recording level. No subtitles or closed-captions.

The Extras:
No extras for The Beasts are on the Streets.

Final Thoughts:
Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom Meets The Swarm. Anybody who’s read even just a few of my reviews would already know I’m going to like something like The Beasts are on the Streets, even if it had stunk (…and if it had stunk, I would have loved it). As it stands, The Beasts are on the Streets is a neat, concise little family-friendly disaster movie, with no blood, lots of clean action, even a little bit of suspense, generally good acting, and plenty of cute/savage animals in motion for the small fry. Fans of the disaster genre and vintage 70s TV will be the best bet here. I’m recommending The Beasts are on the Streets.

Paul Mavis is an internationally published movie and television historian, a member of the Online Film Critics Society, and the author of The Espionage Filmography.

 

In 10 Words or Less
The growing cost of tasty sushi

Reviewer’s Bias*
Loves: Sushi, documentaries
Likes: Documentaries with a conscience
Dislikes: Wasabi
Hates: Feeling guilty

The Film
One of my favorite documentaries ever is Jiro Dreams of Sushi, which combines a fascinating story of obsession, artistry and familial expectations with one of my favorite cuisines: sushi. It’s an amazing tale with beautiful imagery of an incredibly tasty type of food. But before wrapping up the story, the film touches on an issue of concern, as the subjects talk about the effects of overfishing on sushi’s future availability. It’s a small moment of message is an otherwise apolitical film, but the point really stuck with me, as someone who’s certainly enjoyed a few all-you-can eat sushi buffets in my time.

Everything that happens in Jiro, aside from the sushi-master’s personal story, and a bit more, is covered in the first 10 minutes of Sushi, a crash course in the cuisine, delivered via interviews and footage of chefs’ preparation, including talking to Iron Chef America contestant Tyson Cole. It’s a truly interesting lesson, covering the origins of wasabi, the importance of steel and the variations found worldwide. There’s a special focus on Tokyo’s Tsukiji market, also seen in Jiro, the largest dealer of fish on the planet, where wholesalers evaluate and bid on the goods for further distribution. After a tutorial on the business, we get into the real story of this documentary, which deals with the impact of sushi’s explosive popularity growth on fish populations.

Hopping from continent to continent, the film looks at how tuna shipping has changed since it was first implemented, as well as the many ways it’s delivered to consumers, including an unusual sushi push-pop. As sushi is revealed to be becoming increasingly omnipresent, including rapid adoption in populous China, it becomes very clear that demand is likely to outstrip supply, and the film takes a dark turn, showing the fishing process in stark, disturbing detail. I’ve never been a fan of gruesome animal death videos, and though fish are far more alien than most animals, it’s still disturbing to see how the sausage is made, so to speak. Considering how Republican lawmakers can deny things as clearly obvious as environmental chaos, it’s impressive that the filmmakers can’t find anyone with a financial stake in tuna to deny the existence of a looming crisis for the tuna, those who fish for it and those who enjoy eating it, not to mention possibly the entire ocean ecosystem.

The filmmakers thankfully don’t just point out problems, but explore possible solutions, including the concept of sustainable sushi and the potential for farming tuna and spawning them in captivity, as well as the efforts of Greenpeace to encourage change. One of the more interesting things that occurs is an intertwining of the various subjects as their paths cross (probably not a coincidence) which leads to an on-screen discussion between the owner of a sustainable sushi restaurant and an Australian tuna rancher. Both come in with similar good intentions, but it’s clear they aren’t on the same wavelength, which is unlikely to help them in their efforts to prevent the bluefin tuna’s extinction. However, this film is a much more effective argument thanks to the inclusion of many viewpoints.

The DVD
A one-disc release, this film is packaged in a standard keepcase, and features an animated anamorphic menu with an option to play the film, select scenes, and check out the extras. There are no audio options, subtitles or closed captioning, though burned-in English subtitles are in the film.

The Quality
The anamorphic widescreen transfer on this film is solid, basically what you would expect from a low-budget documentary done well, with some minor moments of noise. Other than that, it’s a quality presentation, with appropriate color, a nice level of fine detail, and nothing in terms of noteable dirt or damage or compression artifacts.

The Dolby Digital 2.0 track is solid, though it’s lacking in any kind of dynamic mixing, as is often the case when it comes to documentaries. Once in awhile, there’s a scene that’s a bit harsh, like the discussion scene, where the two voices are a tad tinny, but for the most part the dialogue and music are clear and clean.

The Extras
In addition to the film’s theatrical trailer, a few other Alive Mind trailers and a note aviyt the company, there’s a stills gallery and a message from Greenpeace’s Casson Trenor (which is not listed on the box.) The still gallery is short at just seven photos, but they are nice, while the message is one text screen about the film, its message and impact.

Considering the film was made back in 2011, an update with this release, even in text form, would have been appreciated.

The Bottom Line
I love eating tuna sushi, but it would be a lie to say that, after watching this film, that the next time I sit down at Onsen, that I won’t be trying a different fish. It’s hard to ignore such obvious evidence, especially when it’s presented in such a seemingly even-handed manner. The disc offers the film in fine quality, though the short feature isn’t supplemented with many extras, making this one you definitely should check out, but you probably don’t need to own.

Francis Rizzo III is a native Long Islander, where he works in academia. In his spare time, he enjoys watching hockey, writing and spending time with his wife, daughter and puppy.Check out 1106 – A Moment in Fictional Time or his convention blog called Conning Fellow

*The Reviewer’s Bias section is an attempt to help readers use the review to its best effect. By knowing where the reviewer’s biases lie on the film’s subject matter, one can read the review with the right mindset.

Not quite the comedy classic it’s often labeled…but still fairly funny whenever delightfully snotty Webb is on-screen. 20th Century-Fox’s Cinema Archives line of hard-to-find cult and library titles has released Sitting Pretty, the 1948 smash hit from Fox starring Clifton Webb, Robert Young, (wasted as usual in a nothing role), Maureen O’Hara (always good), Richard Haydn (put in here solely to make Webb look butch by comparison), Louise Allbritton, Randy Stuart (sexy as hell as a with-it secretary), Ed Begley, Larry Olsen, John Russell, Betty Lynn (adorably funny in her movie debut), and Willard Robertson. One of the highest-grossing comedies of the 1940s, and one that inspired two sequels and eventually a successful sitcom decades later, Sitting Pretty made highly-regarded Broadway performer and supporting film player Clifton Webb, at only 59 years old, into a full-fledged lead movie star, cementing-in his screen persona as a persnickety, haughty, vastly superior effete for the remaining 14 years of his big screen career. Seen today, Sitting Pretty‘s post-war baby boomer appeal has dimmed somewhat, but it’s always a treat to see Webb look down his nose at an inferior…which apparently includes everyone. No extras for this solid fullscreen transfer.

Hummingbird Hill, America suburbia, 1948. Harried housewife and mother Tacey King (Maureen O’Hara) has lost yet another domestic due to her three young boys’ high-spirited antics, particularly perpetually crying toddler Roddy (Roddy McCaskill). Husband Harry King (Robert Young), a lawyer with stuffy Horatio J. Hammond’s (Ed Begley) firm, informs Tacey that he didn’t get that raise he’d been after, so new help seems like a moot point. Traditional teen babysitters aren’t the answer, though, when most of them avoid the King children like the plague…or when they hit on Harry, as does 16-year-old Ginger (Betty Lynn). So, when Tacey receives word that a “Lynn Belvedere” has answered her ad for a stay-in babysitter, she enthusiastically awaits her arrival…until very male (well…sorta) Lynn Belvedere (Clifton Webb) shows up, much to Tacey’s consternation, and Harry’s outright refusal. However, when pompous, chilly, know-it-all Mr. Belvedere proves himself unusually adept at handling all of the Kings’ household problems, he’s promptly hired and invited to stay. And that provides fodder for iris-loving mamma’s boy and local gossip, Clarence Appleton (Richard Haydn), who sees scandal in the unusual arrangement.

 Last summer I reviewed the third and final installment in the loosely-aligned Mr. Belvedere “series,” 1951’s Mr. Belvedere Rings the Bell, and found it to be very simply the funniest movie I had seen that year. So I was excited to see the first installment, Sitting Pretty, show up in our screener pool (obsessive compulsive moviegoers love to start over everything at the beginning). I hadn’t seen Sitting Pretty in years and years, nor did I remember much from it; however, that iconic image from the movie of the cereal bowl overturned on a crying baby’s head as Webb looks on dispassionately came immediately to mind, as did the movie’s vaunted reputation as a comedy classic. Watching it now, though, I certainly laughed…but not as much as I expected to–and definitely not as much as I did watching Mr. Belvedere Rings the Bell.

 Just to be clear right off the bat: Sitting Pretty is a perfectly acceptable little charmer that’s light and amiable in the overall, with a killer central performance by Clifton Webb that gets big laughs whenever he sights his narrowed eyes down the gun barrel of his pointed nose, and lets loose with a deadly rejoinder. It’s a cliche to describe an actor as “the whole show” in a movie, but if ever that platitude was true, it was true in Sitting Pretty. Without Webb, Sitting Pretty would be ten minutes of a Blondie programmer without the gags or slapstick. Webb’s character Mr. Belvedere was considered quite an oddball original when Sitting Pretty premiered, and while I guess the notion of an older male snot playing babysitter to three kids isn’t too terribly outrageous today (then again…how many parents would hire him now), it’s still bracing to see him channel kid-hating W.C. Fields through a somewhat simmered-down Waldo Lydecker from Laura and Elliott Templeton from The Razor’s Edge. When Webb distastefully informs O’Hara, “I dislike all children intensely…but I assure you that I can readily attend to their necessary, though unpleasant, wants,” it’s quite hilarious because Webb plays it without one wink to the audience. You believe he finds kids a repugnant nuisance (when cute little Roddy babbles, “You eat,” as he holds out his sopping cereal spoon–a moment that will dissolve any parent in fond memories of their own children–and Webb coldly threatens, “Don’t do that, little boy!” it’s a scream). Webb’s supremely imperious, supercilious, condescending air is such a hoot because, quite simply, he pulls it off. Critically, the movie doesn’t pop his character’s balloon later; he isn’t shown up to be a fool. We laugh because he is perfect in every way…including being a perfect bastard. You can’t argue with him. There’s a real sense of comedic release in seeing that kind of powerful character succeed on his own elevated terms (if they made this today, they wouldn’t have the balls to keep him unsentimental right through to the end; there would be the inevitable sappy scene of Mr. Belvedere finally breaking down his reserve with the aid of a little child’s love. Yeeech.).

 So, after a bit of a pokey opening, Mr. Belvedere is introduced, and we’re primed for some slapstick hijinks (babies and fussbudgets collide) and some smart satire on suburban living, its balloon of post-war respectability and “American Dream” attainability pricked by the prickly Lynn Belvedere, E.I.E. (“Expert in Everything”). And…that’s when the movie folds, incredibly, on both counts: few if any gags, and little if any social satire. If the central crux for Mr. Belvedere’s arrival is, “Mom and everyone else can’t handle the little brats,” then why doesn’t the movie spend some time showing them being little brats No scene in the movie justifies the premise–the little boys aren’t shown acting up. Why does one potential babysitter scream down to her mother (speaking with Young on the phone), “Tell him I dropped dead!” The kids are that bad Where The Kings’ last maid left because she couldn’t handle the boys. Why We don’t know. Worse, once Mr. Belvedere establishes his domain by tipping the cereal bowl onto little Roddy’s head–a classic moment in the movie that ironically, director Walter Lang has happen off camera–the household is magically and instantly transformed into an island of civility and tranquility. How did that happen The movie makes the critical (and rather inexcusable) error here of refusing to show Mr. Belvedere doing anything to reform the boys, their giant dog, or indeed, O’Hara (even the mildest Ma and Pa Kettle programmer knew that unruly kids equaled comedy gold). We’re just supposed to take it on faith that his prim, intractable, no-nonsense style of impossibly correct instruction was enough to make-over the Kings…because we never actually see it. What a missed comedic opportunity!

 As for any social satire…forget it. Sitting Pretty‘s setting is supposed to be a typical post-WWII baby boomer suburb, but the movie, filmed on the 20th backlot, fails to achieve any of that milieu, let along comment on it, either in spirit or production design. SPOILER ALERT! If the movie’s big twist is Mr. Belvedere’s “screaming satire” expose of suburban living (handled in a lightning-fast, unsatisfying montage for such a big plot point), how ironic is it that the movie itself fails to deliver even a tiny shred of that satire (for example, we never see any the “scandals” that Belvedere somehow detailed in his book) We don’t get any Levittown iconography, either physical or thematic, in the background to inform the story, nor are the pitfalls and joys of suburban living incorporated into the script. And where’s what should be the movie’s central conflict in an increasingly matriarchal America: a prissy man doing a better job as homemaker than an all-American mother O’Hara needs a babysitter/maid (a stretch right there for many women in the audience who probably handled more kids in much less space with a lot less than an attorney’s salary), but the minute she hires him, the work is finished. Shouldn’t there be at least a scene or two where Belvedere and her clash on the home duties, with him showing her up Instead, we’re bogged down in this second half with seemingly endless reworkings of the same scene: a rumor is started by gossip Haydn resulting in Young and O’Hara arguing. Young’s jealousy of Webb is ridiculous not because Webb isn’t capable of believably seducing O’Hara (check out how he flusters Joanne Dru in Mr. Belvedere Rings the Bell), but because they’re hardly ever shown together on the home front, either arguing or bonding. And that’s the problem that runs throughout Sitting Pretty: a hole in the middle of comedic and satirical situations that our good feelings about the movie’s many potentials, fill in.

 0The DVD:

The Video:
The fullscreen, 1.37:1 black and white transfer for Sitting Pretty looks pretty good, with a sharp image, decent blacks, good gray scale, and not too many imperfections. Maybe a bit contrasty in spots, but not too bad.

The Audio:
The Dolby Digital English mono audio track is a little squelchy, with some hiss, but it’s not too noticeable. No subtitles or closed-captions.

The Extras:
No extras for Sitting Pretty.

Final Thoughts:
Not quite the “classic” it used to be. Sitting Pretty works anytime Clifton Webb deigns to delight us with another patronizing, condescending, withering riposte. Aside from that…it’s all warmed-over, cut-rate Blondie without any decent gags. Still…Webb is enough to recommend Sitting Pretty.

Paul Mavis is an internationally published movie and television historian, a member of the Online Film Critics Society, and the author of The Espionage Filmography.

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