Color, 1974, 92 mins. / Directed by Brian De Palma / Starring Paul Williams, William Finely, Jessica Harper, George Memmoli, Gerrit Graham / Cinematography by Larry Pizer / Produced by Edward R. Pressman Format: DVD - Fox (MSRP $19.95) / Letterboxed (1.85:1) (16x9 enhanced) / Dolby Digital 2.0
One of the most challenging films from Brian De Palma, Phantom of the Paradise marks the turning point between his edgy early films (such as Greetings and Sisters) and more commercially accessible but no less worthy fare like Carrie and The Fury. While both of these phases contain the quirky humor and film buff in-jokes which grabbed critics' attention, Phantom feels in many ways like the work of a director determined to go for broke with his one shot at directing. Every idea no matter how insane appears to have been thrown in the blender, producing a collage of music, horror, and satire unlike any other.
Recording mogul Swan (Paul Williams) - "He has no other name," according to the Rod Serling intro - makes a new enemy in the form of Winslow Leach (William Finley), an aspiring songwriter whose Faust cantata is stolen to be the opening performance of Swan's rock dream palace, the Paradise. In a fit of rage Winslow attempts to exact revenge on Swan, only to wind up with his face disfigured in a vinyl pressing plant mishap. The misshapen Swan dons a bird-like metal mask and becomes the Phantom, a thorn in Swan's side determined to see Faust performed by Winslow's own choice for the lead role, upcoming ingenue Phoenix (Jessica Harper). Swan instead betrays Winslow and opts to give the plum role to Beef (Gerrit Graham), a comical glam queen; naturally this double cross sets off an inevitable, supernatural chain of events culminating in a wild finale during the Paradise curtain raiser.
With its barrage of classic horror references, its simultaneous embrace and critique of the glam rock lifestyle, and its pansexual playfulness, Phantom has often drawn comparisons to its more famous contemporary, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, with which it also shares an inability to keep the storyline under control during a frenzied climax. Fortunately its flaws are glossed over by the sheer energy involved, from De Palma's creative and resourceful staging to the fine performances (both in terms of acting and singing). Williams may be an
Owners of the godawful laserdisc and VHS editions of Phantom of the Paradise will be relieved to know that Fox has done wonders for the film's reputation with this DVD transfer. The earlier "stereo" sound simply presented the mono channel with slightly different volumes from left to right, but the DVD contains the original full, vibrant stereo mix, with dialogue located in the center channel and music nicely spread out to the left and right. Don't expect any surround activity - an optional 5.1 mix would have been nice, if not necessary - but this is the best the film has sounded by far since it played in theaters. The image quality is also a vast improvement; the fuzzy, muddy video of the past can now be forgotten. The cropping of the 1.85:1 original image didn't really harm the film (and the split screen bit was always letterboxed), but the extra breathing room on the left and right makes some of the more chaotic camera set ups easier to take. The disc also includes a "theatrical trailer," which lacks even a basic title card and actually looks more like a random assortment of scenes slapped together by someone on a video deck. It's too bad a film with a relatively respectable cult pedigree couldn't earn even a minimal special edition treatment (especially when Rocky Horror merits two fully stuffed discs), but considering Fox's spotty track record with genre films, Phantom phans should be pleased indeed to finally have a respectable video edition in their hands.
Color, 1980, 105 mins. / Directed by Brian De Palma / Starring Michael Caine, Angie Dickinson, Nancy Allen, Keith Gordon, Dennis Franz / Music by Pino Donaggio / Cinematography by Ralf D. Bode / Produced by George Litto Format: DVD - MGM (MSRP $19.95) / Letterboxed (2.35:1) (16x9 enhanced) / Dolby Digital 5.1
It's difficult to imagine a horror-thriller more purely enjoyable than Dressed to Kill, one of the highest peaks of Brian De Palma's career and a gleeful joyride of a film which continues to reward after countless viewings. Though it received a mixed critical response amidst a huge turnout
Much of the fun of Dressed to Kill lies in the insidious surprises tucked into its plot, on the surface a playful riff on Psycho. Angie Dickinson stars as Kate Miller, a New York housewife whose steamy, violent fantasies offer some relief from her unsatisfying sex life with an unattentive husband. While her son, Peter (Keith Gordon), toils away in his room on science projects, Kate goes to see her analyst, Dr. Elliott (Michael Caine), and spends an afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where she engages in an extended bout of flirting with a handsome stranger. To reveal more would be unthinkable, but other characters gradually work their way into the storyline, including plucky Park Avenue hooker Liz (Nancy Allen, Mrs. De Palma at the time) and a mysterious, tall blonde with an unhealthy fondness for straight razors.
After experimenting with a variety of cinematic techniques like split screen, sound layering, visual storytelling, and other forms of audience manipulation in his earlier films, De Palma was finally ready to pull out all the stops with this feverish rollercoaster ride. Nary a second is wasted as the viewer is swerved through New York on what amounts to a dark tour of human sexuality, where few people are what they seem and logic is ignored in favor of immediate sensation. At the time the film's combination of erotic visuals and visceral violence was protested by many critics and feminist groups, though the subsequent wave of erotic thrillers has shown just how difficult De Palma's balancing act really was. The sex and violence are essentially tools for a much larger directorial intent to please the viewer at any cost, and even the triple whammy ending (which could have been infuriating in lesser hands) comes off instead as yet another delicious flourish, the icing on an already sinfully rich cake. All of the actors seem to be enjoying themselves immensely, particularly during the rapid fire banter between Allen, Gordon, and police detective Dennis Franz, whose laughably huge collars are the only element of the film to suffer with age. Best of all is the sumptuous score by Pino Donaggio,
Fans of the Donaggio score will particularly appreciate the new 5.1 mix accorded to the film by MGM, whose DVD is the most satisfying in a long and tangled theatrical and home video history. The film was shot in 2.35:1 Panavision and recorded in mono, and in order to garner an R rating, several snippets of nudity and latexy gore were removed from the opening shower fantasy, the infamous elevator scene, and the final climax. Also, some of Allen's dialogue during the erotic speech in Caine's office was redubbed. The uncensored "European" cut of the film surfaced on Warner Home Video in the very early days of VHS, but the brutal panning and scanning destroyed much of the film's effectiveness. Meanwhile Vestron retained laserdisc rights and released two versions, both R-rated:
In another hilarious nod to the inexplicable ratings policies of Blockbuster, the DVD carries a prominent R rating on the back and then discreetly lists "Unrated Version Option" among the special features listing. Using seamless branching, one can either watch the complete Euro cut or the R-rated version. The new, anamorphic widescreen transfer looks better than previous incarnations, of which the Orion/Image disc was the best of the bunch. More visual information is exposed on all edges of the frame, and the rich, striking color design has never looked better. Attentive viewers should pay attention to every inch of the widescreen compositions, as De Palma
A fully loaded special edition, Dressed to Kill contains all the supplements a fan could want (well, except for maybe a Donaggio interview and isolated score). "The Making of Dressed to Kill" features interviews with De Palma, Dickinson, Allen, Gordon, Franz, and producer George Litto, all of whom offer completely individual anecdotes about the making of the film. De Palma provides the structuring voice of the piece, though as with his appearance on the Obsession documentary, it's apparent he feels more comfortable behind a camera than in front of one. Interestingly, little attention is given to the radical transformation the film underwent during its various drafts, beginning as a vignette in a proposed De Palma film of Cruising to the finished form today. Check out the discontinued by easily available paperback novelization by De Palma for a peek at an earlier, fascinating draft of the story. Allen seems to have the best memory for the production, though everyone offers something of value. And don't miss Dickinson's surprise use of one of the film's props during the end credits.
Two featurettes cover the censorship aspects of the film, one comparing the variant unrated, R, and bastardized TV cuts, and the other ("Slashing Dressed to Kill) recounting the protests and violent reactions during its release as well as the MPAA scandal, one of the first of many. "An Appreciation by Keith Gordon" features the actor/director recounting his own experiences with the film and, as with his appearance on the Jaws 2 disc, explaining how it influenced his later career choice. Other extras include the spoiler-packed theatrical trailer, two galleries of promotional photographs and the terrific advertising art both used and rejected, and the usual "collectible booklet," which appears to have been hastily prepared and incorrectly lists Body Double as De Palma's next film.
Color, 1978, 118 mins. / Directed by Brian De Palma / Starring Kirk Douglas, John Cassavetes, Amy Irving, Andrew Stevens, Carrie Snodgress, Fiona Lewis, Charles Durning / Music by John Williams / Written by John Farris / Produced by Frank Yablans Format: DVD - Fox (MSRP $19.98) / Letterboxed (1.85:1) (16x9 enhanced) / Dolby Digital 4.0 Following the surprise critical and popular success of Carrie, director Brian De Palma returned to the subject of telekinesis for a broader, more spectacular riff on the same subject, this time expanded into the realm of political intrigue and shadowy conspiracies. On a Middle Eastern beach, two friendly secret agents, Peter Sandza (Kirk Douglas) and Childress (John Cassavetes), clown around with Peter's teenage son, Robin (Andrew Stevens). A sudden machine gun attack by Arabs sends Peter scurrying into the water, only to see Childress spiriting Robin away with the aid of the attackers obviously recruited to stage a diversion. One year later in Chicago, Gillian (Amy Irving) discovers her immense psychic powers while undergoing a paranormal seminar at school. Queasy at her ability to make others bleed during moments of intense stress, Gillian agrees to become a study case at an institute under the care of Hester (Carrie Snodgress), who also has a relationship with Peter, now skulking the Chicago streets in search of clues leading to the whereabouts of his abducted son. Peter hopes to use Gillian's powers to track down Robin, who is now being manipulated by Childress (for reasons never really explained) with the sexual Devoid of the emotional core and thematic resonance which elevated Carrie above a typical teen horror romp, The Fury exists solely for the sake of experimenting with visual style and narrative intricacy. Surprisingly for a film told almost entirely in parallel action, De Palma avoids his usual penchant for split screen photography, and the expected Hitchcock homages have been dropped in favor of a more naturalistic visual style. The few visual gimmicks (glowing eyes, blood popping out of psychically trauamatized victims, slow motion, and visions rendered by swirling rear projection) spring naturally from the subject matter, glossing over the fact that very little of it makes any sense. The performances are professional but occasionally dip over into hamminess, particularly Cassavetes, who might as well be sprouting horns. Some of Douglas' comic moments in the first third sit a little uneasily with what essentially amounts to a tragic story, but he gradually slips into the tone of the film and enlists some sympathy for his quest. One of the most overlooked stars of the film is composer John Williams, who provided one of his finest scores before succumbing to copying himself over and over for Spielberg films. Rich, evocative, and haunting, this is easily one of the most criminally neglected musical achievements of the '70s. For a film so heavily Originally released in mono, The Fury has been given something of an audio overhaul for its DVD premiere. By combining what appear to be the music stereo tracks with a reconfigured music and effects track, Fox has produced a 4.0 surround track in which the rear channels are largely quiet, instead spreading sound effects and music mostly in stereo to the two front channels while dialogue remains centered. Occasionally the mix sounds strained and artificial, particularly when voices trail off to the front channels by mistake, but overall it's effective and establishes a grander aural sense than the film had before. Contrary to the packaging, the disc does not come with a 4.0 and 2.0 surround track; instead it contains the 4.0 track and the original English mono track, in addition to a much quieter French sub (also in mono). The disc also includes a bombastic three minute theatrical trailer and a small gallery of photos, including a funny, oft-printed outtake shot of the final scene.
acquired taste, but his witty score kicks along nicely from '50s be bop to surfer parody to KISS-style rock without missing a beat. As usual Harper steals all of her scenes, making one wish she had become a much bigger star in an age when both musical and acting talent were appreciated. (Ironically, she later appeared as Janet and acquitted herself quite well in the ill-fated but not uninteresting Rocky Horror sequel, Shock Treatment.) De Palma fans will have fun looking for early examples of his directorial quirks, such as his trademark use of split screen during the Beach Bums number. It doesn't outdo Sisters, but at least he tried. Of course there's also a Hitchcock nod this time around, thanks to one of the first and greatest Psycho parodies on record.
from the public, the film has gone on to be considered one of the '80s' most accomplished directorial feats and contains enough terrific set pieces to fuel a hundred Basic Instincts. If you haven't seen it yet, well, what are you waiting for?
one of the finest accomplishments in a criminally underrated career which includes such other De Palma shockers as Carrie, Blow Out, Body Double, and Raising Cain. Both men had come fresh off the low budget student film project, Home Movies, and had obviously recharged their batteries for a full throttle exercise that often approaches the operatic.
pan and scan and a later letterboxed edition, sapped of virtually all color, which squeezed the entire frame into a cramped 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The rights then passed to Orion, who issued an "unrated," correctly letterboxed version through Image on laserdisc; though the film was complete in terms of running time, Allen's dialogue was still softened. At the same time the film turned up on VHS again from Goodtimes, in its R-rated form licensed from Orion. The company's dissolution turned the rights over to MGM, and while the R-rated version turned up on DVD first in a letterboxed, optically censored disc from Japan, the American MGM DVD is the closest thing possible to a definitive edition.
tucks neat little details into the background which may not be apparent the first time around. Watch out for people in the background in particular. The audio options include the aforementioned 5.1 mix (nicely recreated from the music and effects tracks and well suited to the film's overheated tone), the original mono mix, and a very funny French track, not to mention French and Spanish subtitles and, amazingly, the film's first presentation with closed captions.
While Carrie confined its gruesome activities to the memorable double climax, its successor instead throws the audience headlong into the action and rarely pauses for breath for two hours, bombarding the screen with chases and bloody demises. As an exercise in logic or restraint The Fury obviously comes up lacking, but as an early example of Hollywood junk food treated like a high art thrill machine, The Fury has few peers.
dominance of the alluring Susan (Fiona Lewis). A series of pursuits and nasty incidents ensue, the most memorable of which involves a ferris wheel of Arabic tourists. And then of course there's the splatter packed ending, which is best left for new viewers to discover for themselves...
dependent on its visuals, The Fury has ironically had a disastrous history on home video. Most viewers probably know it through butchered TV prints which omit most of the bloody highlights, while the open matte VHS and laserdiscs from Fox suffered from unwatchably orange skin tones, a murky and blurred visual texture, and awkward, unfocused framing that destroyed the point of several significant shots. Those problems are largely corrected in the DVD edition, which restores much of the film's impact in its original aspect ratio. (The spinning death of one female character late in the film benefits especially from the tighter framing.) Flesh tones are now accurate, and the image quality looks very sharp and appealing. That nasty bugaboo of '70s filmmaking, zoom lens photography, invests the film with some distracting graininess in several darker scenes that becomes even more distracting in 16:9 playback; check out the effective fingernail scratching scene for one obvious example. 