Losing Ground

LOSING GROUND (Collins, 1982)

Milestone Films, Blu-ray, Release Date April 5, 2016

Review by Christopher S. Long

(UPDATE 6/6/2020: The Criterion Channel has made several films by black filmmakers, along with a few other titles, available to stream for free. If you're looking for a place to start, I recommend "Losing Ground", available at the following link. Tip: The movie might not play on Chrome, but should work on Safari and Firefox and other browsers. I don't know how long it will be available for free, so don't let the opportunity slip by.) 

Though the centerpiece of Kathleen Collins's “Losing Ground” (1982) is the fraught relationship between a wife and her husband, the scene that has stuck with me the most is the one where an aspiring student filmmaker named George (Gary Bollins) shouts directions to his camera operator. A nice, slow tilt, then a diagonal pan, now dolly back to a wide... “Did you catch that subtle mise-en-scene, mi amigo?”

Aside from the nifty feat of combining three languages in eight words, writer/director/producer Collins displays a wry sense of humor about the filmmaking process – the vanity, the insecurity, and the sheer pleasure of making decisions on set, absurdity and ambition shouldering each other aside. “Losing Ground” is one of the first feature films directed by an African-American woman and Collins had to work hard to get it made, but it sure seems like she had fun in the process.

Fun is a challenge for Sara (Seret Scott), a terminally serious philosophy professor loosely inspired by Collins's experience as a film history and screenwriting teacher at City College of New York. Sara is perfectly comfortable lecturing on Sartre and Camus, but when she decides she needs to learn more about “ecstatic experiences” she follows the only route to wisdom she knows: a visit to the library to research it, like the Simpsons' “Itchy and Scratchy” staffer who wrote his “thesis on life experience.”

Her free-spirited artist husband Victor (Bill Gunn, the filmmaker of “Ganja and Hess” fame) would be the perfect counterbalance for her if only he could actually acknowledge anyone's experience (ecstatic or otherwise) other than his own. Victor has his moments of gentle humor, celebrating a museum sale by stating, “I'm a genuine success... a genuine, black success,” but his incurable narcissism imperils their relationship. For him, inspiration trumps reason, and he lets Sara know it: “What's the matter? Hegel and the boys let you down?”

Professor Sara looks so tiny as she sits in her massive chair in her similarly massive office (Collins has a thing for interiors with high ceilings), but she asserts her presence with greater authority, in fits and starts, as the story unfolds. Victor drags her along to a retreat in upstate New York, but when said retreat turns out to be another excuse for Victor to fool around with one of his artistic “subjects” (Maritza Rivera) Sara drops her books on Gnosticism and pursues her research on ecstasy by agreeing to act in George's film, a decision which thrills the budding auteur, one of many students besotted by Sara.

This serves the dual function of infuriating Victor (he's the only one allowed to pursue his muse) and introducing her to the mysterious Duke, who is just cool enough to wear a cape and hat without seeming like a hipster poser. Duke is played by the great Duane Jones, perhaps best known as the star of George Romero's genre-defining “Night of the Living Dead” (1968) and he steals most of his scenes. Director George (the student, not Romero) provides another laugh line when he shouts to his stars in the middle of a long take, “Sorry I didn't prepare you for this, but could you kiss? Really kiss?”

They do, and it's a crucial step in Sara's empowerment, enabling her to stand up to Victor when he makes a fool of himself at a party, and paving the road to an ending that I'll admit to feeling ambivalent about. Let me watch it again and maybe I'll have a better take.

Kathleen Collins

“Losing Ground” screened just one time in New York and barely received any press coverage, though it would accrue a growing army of admirers at college screenings and other specialty venues and the occasional TV or cable broadcast. Collins continued teaching, but never directed another film. Shortly before production on “Losing Ground” she discovered she had breast cancer, and died from it in 1988 at the age of 46.

Though her film never received anything resembling a proper release, “Losing Ground” touched many viewers deeply, and neither Collins nor her film would be forgotten. When Duart Labs begin divesting itself of its film inventory about ten years ago, Collins's daughter Nina rescued the negatives and set out on a path that eventually brought her to the right place, Milestone Films. And now Milestone has helped to bring “Losing Ground” to more viewers than ever in this magnificent and comprehensive two-volume Blu-ray release.

 Video:

The film is presented in its original 1.33:1 aspect ratio. This high-def restoration shows a few minor flecks, mostly visible during the title sequences, but the overall quality is excellent with a thick grain structure visible throughout. Another knockout effort from Milestone.

Audio:

The lossless audio sounds crisp and clear throughout. There are moments when the dialogue sounds a bit hollow, but I suspect that's from the original audio source, perhaps from some dubbing. No problems worth noting here. Optional English subtitles support the audio.

Extras:

Reviewing a Milestone release is invariably a pleasure; it is also a commitment to a full 40-hour work week. They have been typically exhaustive in loading this 2-disc Blu-ray release with extras.

Disc One includes the film and a Theatrical Trailer. The film is accompanied by a commentary track by Lamonda Horton-Stallings, a professor of women's studies and literature at the University of Maryland College Park, and Terri Francis, a film scholar at Indiana University. They speak about their experiences first discovering Collins's film while also providing scene-by-scene analysis. They strike a great balance in providing expert insight and expressing their personal enthusiasm for the film and for Collins.

Disc Two, as is standard for most Milestone multi-disc products, could easily be its own stand-alone release.

“The Cruz Brothers and Miss Malloy” (1980, 49 min.) is Kathleen Collins's first directorial effort, working in collaboration with cinematographer Ronald K. Gray, also a crucial creative partner and cinematographer on “Losing Ground.” Collins was eager to parlay her experience in film editing, teaching, and writing into a directorial gig, but decided it would be better in her first turn behind the camera to adapt someone else's writing instead of her own. So she worked loosely from “The Cruz Chronicles” by Henry H. Roth, also co-adapting the script with Roth and Jo Tavener. I was wowed by the opening passages of this lyrical film imbued with a touch of magical realism. The oldest of the three Puerto Rican Cruz brothers, Victor (Randy Ruiz), is also the only one who can speak to his Poppa, who has long since passed on but still drops by to offer advice as a free-floating spirit represented POV-style with a similarly free-floating camera and voice-over by Ernesto Gonzalez.

Collins and Gray capture some elegant imagery of Victor, Jose (Lionel Pina), and Felipe (Jose Machado) palling around during mostly structureless days, playing along a bridge or shooting hoops. I found the film somewhat less compelling once Miss Malloy (Sylvia Field, formerly Mrs. Wilson of Dennis the Menace) enters the picture, hiring the brothers to rehabilitate her crumbling estate so she can hold one more ball before she dies, shades of Satyajit Ray's “The Music Room” perhaps. Field can be over the top and a bit stilted at times, delivering random lines like, “I'm looking for my life. Where is it?” I wasn't so crazy about the ending either. However, there are warm, vibrant moments and a good dose of humor, especially in poor Felipe's constant urge to quit and run away whenever things at Miss Malloy's house turn a bit too creepy... or if his ginger ale has too much ice.

“Cruz Brothers” is also accompanied by a commentary track, though not the typical one. This is actually an audio recording from a 1980 public screening and Q&A session in which Collins discusses the limited production (here she says it was made for $7,000, though $5,000 is the figure mentioned elsewhere) as well as her appreciation of directors like Eric Rohmer and her fondness for long takes and films that don't guide audience reactions too heavily. Author Henry H. Roth also chimes in around the 35-minute mark. The audio ends about five minutes before the film does.

“Transmagnifican Dambamuality” (1976, 7 min.) is a short film directed and shot by Ronald K. Gray. He describes this “Quiet, Domestic Drama” as a remembrance of his family life, especially his younger brother. It concerns a typical family going through their morning rituals, with mom alternately being exasperated with her son for wasting his time in his room to beaming proudly at him when he plays the piano beautifully. The film's defining feature is a comedic soundtrack with overwrought effects (a knife on a cutting board produces concussive explosions) that turns touchingly realistic at the end. I liked it a lot.

Of course, we haven't even gotten to the interviews yet. Milestone's first interview is a new one with Ronald K. Gray (46 min.) that covers just about all the bases, from Gray's early life and education to first meeting Kathleen Collins at City College of New York to their professional collaboration. Like all of the interview subjects, he expresses his astonishment at learning about Collins's cancer as she kept it a closely-guarded secret.

Another similarly expansive interview (40 min.) with the apparently ageless lead actress Seret Scott follows. She met Collins through a mutual friend, actor Gilbert Moses, and through their civil rights activism with SNCC. She quickly came to consider Collins both a mentor and a close friend, and notes that Collins almost always wrote a part with Scott in mind in each of her plays. She doesn't mention “Losing Ground” until past the halfway mark of the interview, but has plenty to say, especially about her co-stars about whom she speaks glowingly.

Nina Lorez Collins, Kathleen's daughter, also talks (26 min.) about life with mom and her memories of the various films; often cast and crew would not just be co-workers, but would be living in the Collins household during the shoots.

Fortunately, Milestone was able to dig up a video interview with Collins, conducted by Phyllis B. Klatman as part of a college-based interview program, and provided here courtesy of Indiana University Black Film Archive. This 23-minute interview gives Collins plenty of time to talk about her early career, including making a living as a film editor before becoming a teacher, as well as her teaching philosophy which includes familiarizing students with the earliest films so they can build from the ground up.

But aside from all that, there's really not much on the disc.

Final Thoughts:

“Losing Ground” offers so many other small pleasures I didn't even get to: the unabashedly intellectual exchanges that leap from French existentialism to early Christian mysticism, the student whose ill-considered idea of a great pick-up line is to brag about reading “that book on Genet,” and the wonderful performance of Billie Allen as Sara's mother. Thanks to this splendid and comprehensive release from Milestone, you now have the chance to discover them all and, most importantly, to discover (or re-discover) the work of Kathleen Collins.

Maborosi

MABOROSI (Kore-eda, 1995)

Milestone Films, Blu-ray, Release Date July 10, 2018

Review by Christopher S. Long

In the opening shots of Hirokazu Kore-eda's debut feature film, “Maborosi” (1995), young Yumiko chases after her grandmother, who is glimpsed only from behind and at a great distance, as a figure retreating first down a tunnel and later alongside a bridge. Little Yumiko begs her adored grandmother to come back, but the old woman states flatly that she wishes to her childhood home in Shikoku to die. Which she does.

Fast forward about eight years and adult Yumiko (Makiko Esumi) still carries the grief of this childhood loss with her. She shares her story with husband Ikuo (Tadanobu Asano) who listens attentively and sympathetically as he surely has many times before. They appear to have a good relationship, raising their baby boy together in Osaka. He works, she takes care of the baby, they talk during meals, and nothing much happens until one day when they say goodbye, same as any other day. From Yumiko's point of view, we watch Ikuo slowly walk away, glimpsed only from behind and at a great distance...

Innocuous in content, but perfectly rhymed with the opening images, this shot strikes like a bolt from a clear sky. There is little doubt that it announces another tragedy about to disrupt Yumiko's life. There is even less doubt it is the mark of a freshman feature filmmaker (a documentary veteran, however) who already enjoys a comfortable mastery of the medium. Nobody could have predicted that the next twenty-plus years would see Kore-eda become one of the leading voices of contemporary cinema, not to mention the Palme d'Or winner at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival, but any viewer not wowed at the time was simply not paying enough attention.

Kore-eda has become best known for his intricate studies of family dynamics. In “Maborosi” (which translates as illusion or mirage), he paints a serene and stately portrait of grief, a grief that rarely erupts in tears but which always lingers, a parasite lying dormant at times but always ready to consume its host. The grief follows Yumiko everywhere, even when she makes her own move from Osaka to a tiny fishing village (shot on location to great effect) on the shores of the Sea of Japan to be with her new husband Tamio (Takashi Naito). The grief does not abate even when friends and family shower her with love and support, only strengthening its power as it becomes increasingly co-mingled with guilt.

Esumi, then a model making her film debut, delivers a confident performance, fully comfortable at her stillest, quietest moments, so often just marking time. Yumiko sometimes buries herself in work or in caring for her beloved son, but the past simply won't loosen its grip on her. That doesn't mean “Maborosi” offers Yumiko no hope, far from it, rather it acknowledges that we pick up certain unwelcome visitors in our lives, ones who stick around so long they eventually become defining aspects of our own identities, not even good or bad, but simply there.

Kore-eda rarely relies on close-ups, the camera hanging back at a discreet distance to observe the characters respectfully and with a clear eye. Strategically repeated sounds like the bells of a bicycle or the roar of a train provide the emotional heft of a story with few overtly dramatic elements aside from the crucial losses, which occur off-screen.

“Maborosi” was well-received on the festival circuit, but didn't play to a large audience. Kore-eda would experience a greater breakout with his next feature, “After Life” (1998), and secured international stardom with critical hits such as “Nobody Knows” (2004) and “Still Walking” (2008). “Maborosi” is as accomplished as any of them.

Video:

The film is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The film has a generally soft, low-key look throughout, not much in the way of sharp contrasts. This high-def transfer preserves that feel, perhaps without the razor-sharp detail some high-def releases showcase, but the final product looks quite satisfying to me.

Audio:

The LPCM 2.0 audio mix is crisp and efficient with no evident signs of dropoff or distortion. The film features a lot of silence, but its spare sound effects are still important, as is the quiet, moody score by Chen Ming-Chang. This mix does justice to it all. Optional English subtitles support the Japanese audio.

Extras:

Milestone hasn't packed this with as many extras as some of their more comprehensive releases, but they've included a few strong supplements.

The film is accompanied by a full-length commentary track by professor and film scholar Linda Ehrlich. I've only had the chance to sample the first half hour of the commentary, but it's packed with information and close textual reading so far.

“Birthplace: Makiko Esumi” (30 min.) is a short documentary which follows the film's lead actress as she returns several years later to the village that served as the shooting location for much of the film. It's a little short on insight, but it's good to see some of the places and people again.

Final Thoughts:

Hirokazu Kore-eda's debut feature shows a filmmaker already performing at his peak. Amazingly, he's managed to remain there for about a quarter century, and he may only just be getting started. This Milestone release gives viewers a chance to check out where he got started.

Rocco And His Brothers

Alain Delon, as Rocco

ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS (Visconti, 1960)

Milestone Films, Bu-ray, Release Date July 10, 2018

Review by Christopher S. Long

Fresh off the train from their tiny rural town in southern Italy, matriarch Rosaria Parondi (Katina Paxinou) and her four youngest boys are duly awed by their first glimpse of the big city of Milan. Riding a streetcar to visit eldest brother Vincenzo (Spiros Focas), they gape at the bustling urban nightlife: “Look at those shop windows, those lights. It's like daylight!”

Just as no battle plan survives contact with the enemy, any dreams of Utopian bliss are dispelled the instant mamma Rosaria stumbles into Vincenzo's engagement party, and promptly declares war on her prospective in-laws, including Vincenzo's fiancee Ginetta (Claudia Cardinale in one of her earliest roles). It all sounds like the set up for a comedic clash of cultures, even prompting Vincenzo to quip that his family arrived in town “like an earthquake,” but “Rocco and His Brothers” (1960) descends rapidly and inexorably into a tragedy of operatic proportions.

Director Luchino Visconti stated that where Federico Fellini told a tale of the “Sweet Life (La Dolce Vita)” his movie chronicled “the bitter life” of the Parondi family. He certainly delivered on his promise, or perhaps threat. Though Milan is booming from the country's recent “economic miracle” (one that left the south behind), the Parondi boys won't reap the rewards.

Ostensibly, their troubles begin when prostitute Nadia (Annie Girardot) explodes into their lives, first entering into a tempestuous relationship with the second-oldest brother, Simone (Renato Salvatori), then later with the titular brother, Rocco (Alain Delon). Both men, in very different ways, seek to control Nadia, while she struggles to maintain her autonomy. Like Nadia, Simone and Rocco ultimately sell their bodies as well, both achieving a degree of success in the boxing ring, while each paying a heavy price in the process. Savage passions ultimately pit Simone against Rocco, threatening to tear the Parondi clan apart.

The whole family struggles, though Simone's personal and moral collapse is the most dramatic and unnerving, as he transitions from the family's brightest hope to its blackest sheep, with faithful Rocco gamely trying to redeem him even long after he lurches well beyond the point of redemption. Both Visconti and his co-scripter Suso Cecchi D'Amico attributed Simone's downfall (and that of the other Parondi brothers) to the corruption of the big city and the exploitation of capitalism, but this is a dubious claim.

Simone arrives in Milan as a lazy, entitled, dishonest bully, and then becomes increasingly narcissistic, cruel, and violent. Rocco, described by his younger brothers as “a saint” with an infinite capacity for forgiveness, extends his tolerance exclusively to his own family, demonstrating little empathy for the brutally victimized Nadia, the alleged love of his life. Perhaps the Parondis weren't corrupted by Milan, but boarded the train with their own troubling set of patriarchal old-school “family values” already fully intact.

“Rocco and His Brothers” is a truly beautiful film, even when photographed amidst the squalor of Milan's seediest neighborhoods. Shooting in lustrous, moody black-and-white, the great cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno dazzles from start to finish, from an early overhead still-life portrait of Milan's train station at night to a late tableau of uniformed workers filing into an Alfa Romeo factory after an afternoon break. In between, over nearly three hours, Rotunno's camera basks in soft Lombard sunlight and pierces inky nighttime shadows with equal precision and beauty, helping Visconti to achieve his vision of a neo-realistic film with an epic scope and feel. Oh, yeah, and the Nino Rota score isn't half-bad either. 

Video:

The film is presented in its original 1.66:1 aspect ratio.

The restoration process of “Rocco and His Brothers” was more elaborate than for many films. Parts of the original camera negative had been damaged by fungus, requiring some scenes to be replaced from a contact-printed interpositive. In addition, some scenes were censored after the film's debut at the Venice Film Festival in 1960, and these scenes appear in their unabridged version in this restoration, bringing the film back to its original 177 minute running time. The restoration was funded by Gucci and The Film Foundation, with color correction overseen by the film's cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno.

The diligent restorers appear to have resisted the temptation to buff and polish the image to excess. This high-def transfer showcases a rich, thick grainy look throughout with a remarkable amount of detail visible even in the darkest shots. The black-and-white contrast is sharp and naturalistic throughout. In short, this restoration looks phenomenal.

Audio:

The monoaural track is crisp and consistent. The sound design is fairly straightforward, consisting mostly of the dubbed dialogue (French actor Alain Delon was dubbed by Achille Millo, if you're curious) and Nino Rota's score. I didn't notice any dropoffs or distortions in the soundtrack. Optional English subtitles support the Italian audio.

Extras:

As mentioned above, the film runs 177 minutes, so Milestone has devoted the first of the two Blu-rays in this set exclusively to the film, save for a brief (3 min.) introduction by Martin Scorsese. You can choose to play the movie with or without the intro. The second disc houses all of the other extras.

Most interviews with the children or grandchildren of accomplished filmmakers consist of affectionate remembrances with little in the way of substance. The interview (41 min.) with Caterina D'Amico, daughter of the great screenwriter Suso Cecchi D'Amico, is a noteworthy exception in the sub-genre. D'Amico, a teacher and author, provides a truly impressive level of fine detail in her no-nonsense interview, covering every aspect of the film's genesis, from Visconti's first sketch of the story to her mother's involvement as one of several writers on the project, to the array of influences from the Bible to Thomas Mann to Dostoevsky. She speaks authoritatively about major changes from the structure of the plot in its earliest form to what finally made it to the page and then to the screen. This is one of the best interviews I've ever watched on any disc in quite some time.

The disc also includes a series of shorter interviews (34 min. total) with cast and crew, including Annie Girardot and Claudia Cardinale, with the longest and most substantive segment belonging to writer Suso Cecchi D'Amico.

We also get several Outtakes (6 min. total) and a brief “Before and After” piece (2 min.) on the film's restoration.

Also, as is frequently the case with Milestone releases, you can visit their website for a comprehensive press kit (this one running over 60 pages) for more information on the film and its restoration.

Final Thoughts:

“Rocco and His Brothers” generated great controversy on its initial release, drawing condemnation and censorship from Catholic groups in Italy, and playing in even worse-butchered versions overseas. The controversy may have actually helped the film to box-office success, as it earned big money in Italy and gave Visconti a crucial international breakout that opened new financing opportunities that would shape the rest of his career. The film has also exerted a tremendous influence on generations of subsequent filmmakers, a list that just begins with Martin Scorsese (Simone is certainly a Raging Bull) and Francis Ford Coppola. And as if that wasn't enough, it also provides some of the earliest prominent performances for Alain Delon, Claudia Cardinale, and Annie Girardot, young actors who would go on to become major stars.

This Milestone release provides a sparkling restoration of this major landmark of Italian cinema, along with a solid collection of supporting extra features, making this one of the most important Blu-ray releases of the year.

Shoes

SHOES (Weber and Smalley, 1916)

Milestone Films, Blu-ray, Release Date Feb 6, 2018

Review by Christopher S. Long

Lois Weber may not be a widely-recognized name today, but in the silent era she was described by the industrial press not only as the top “woman director” but simply as one of the top directors in America. Known best for her socially earnest “problem films” from 1914-1921 (her career extended into the sound era, however), Weber was, at her peak, the highest paid director at Universal, and was also considered one of the young industry's major innovators. In the words of film scholar Shelly Stamp, Weber was viewed as one of the “three great minds” of early American cinema along with D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille.

Weber's reputation has since been eclipsed by her male peers for reasons both complex (the lapsing of a distribution deal with Paramount in 1922, health problems) and predictably simple (take a guess), but Milestone Films has made it their latest mission to remedy her unfair marginalization. Their Blu-ray release of the silent feature “Shoes” (1916), which Weber co-directed with husband and business partner Phillips Smalley, makes a convincing argument that many of us have been missing out on a special talent.

Based on a short story by Stella Wynne Herron which itself was inspired by the writing of social reformer Jane Addams, “Shoes” relates the straightforward story of working-class girl Eva Mayer, who toils all day but still can't save enough money to buy a desperately needed new pair of shoes. Each night, she rips away her makeshift cardboard soles and cuts out new ones so she can trudge through the rain-soaked streets of Los Angeles to her dead-end job at a five-and-dime store, only to hand all her earnings over to her mother to help support their large family.

Weber emphasizes the everyday plight of the working-class woman, but her focus on social realism still allows room for some highly stylized flourishes, including a literal “hand of poverty” reaching down to strangle young Eva in a nightmare. Eva doesn't merely wallow helplessly in her plight either, a mere sad sack intended to generate audience sympathy. She rages at her lazy no-good father who lays about all day reading instead of beating the streets to find a job. The soles of his shoes aren't nearly so worn. And she fends off the wolves as nobly and for as long as she can.

Eva is portrayed by one of Weber's discoveries, 16-year-old Mary MacLaren, plucked from the stage for the start of a film career that would extend into the 1940s. The teenager brings a poise and gravitas beyond her years to the role, rendering the moment (teased in the film's opening sequence) when she finally sells herself for that pair of shoes all the more poignant. A medium close-up on Eva as she sits in the Blue Goose Club and a man's hand caresses her shoulder is genuinely chilling. Though the plot is fairly standard-issue melodrama for most of the film, the ending achieves a kind of transcendence when mother reacts with understanding and compassion to her “fallen” daughter, all while a genuinely clueless father fails to understand why everyone isn't paying more attention to him. Even in the immediate aftermath of great personal tragedy, life must and will go on. 

Video:

Another reason Weber's fame has been obscured over the years is that so few of her films have survived. “Shoes” is one of the few exceptions, but its continued existence has been a perilous one, The restoration of this film, helmed by the EYE Filmmuseum in Amsterdam, was sourced from two different nitrate prints (one tinted, one toned) and also partially from a safety copy of the short re-edited “spoof” version of the film released as “Unshod Maiden” in 1932 (see Extras below).

The nitrate prints remained structurally intact, but suffered from considerable bacterial damage, resulting in white spots throughout the print. In one scene, these spots consume most of the frame, but in the majority of scenes, they lurk along the edges. Even considerable restoration efforts can only clean up so much. But even with this invasive damage, the image has the soft, luminous quality you only get from nitrate prints of this era, so beautiful, so damn flammable.

Audio:

Composers Donald Sosin and Mimi Rabson have provided a new score for the release of this silent film, and it sounds great.

Extras:

As always, Milestone has unearthed a bevy of extras on this release.

Let me start with one of the most remarkable and startling extra features I've ever seen. Remarkable, of course, does not automatically imply good. “Unshod Maiden” (1932, 10 min.) is a “Universal Brevity,” a short-lived (though not short-lived enough) series in which old silent films in the company catalog were sharply cut down and then re-purposed with new voice-over tracks.

A smug male narrator cracks one snarky joke after another over re-cut footage of “Shoes”, heaping derision on Eva, now identified as Mary: “In Mary's inmost soul, she felt like a heel.” The scumbag narrator transforms this tragedy about an impoverished woman driven to prostitution into a comedy, with the final punchline, “And that's how Mary learned to play the saxophone.” You'll want to reach back 85 years and strangle this bastard.

In an accompanying feature (7 min.), film scholar Richard Koszarski explains the motivation behind this Universal Brevities line, released at a time (just a few years into the sound era!) when silent films were viewed, by some money-grubbing studio execs at least, as hopelessly antiquated and useful only as objects for the vastly more sophisticated audiences of 1932 to mock. In other words, people never change.

The feature “Shoes” is accompanied by a commentary track by film scholar Shelley Stamp, author of “Lois Weber in Early Hollywood” and it's a top notch effort in every way. In addition, Milestone has included an audio interview with actress Mary MacLaren as a second audio commentary option though, of course, the interview does not correspond to the film the way most commentaries do. It was conducted in 1971 by Richard Koszarski.

We also get two short features about the restoration of the film by the EYE Filmmuseum in Amsterdam, running five minutes apiece.

The copy on the back of the Blu-ray also mentions the inclusion of the short film “The Price” (1911, 13 min.), written by and starring Lois Weber and husband Phillips Smalley. However, the film didn't make the disc, but has been made available online instead by Milestone at this link.

Final Thoughts:

“Shoes” tells a fairly conventional melodrama with efficiency, visual panache, and a moral force that becomes undeniable by the film's potent conclusion. Young Mary MacLaren is exceptional too. Milestone's release includes both the restored film and an impressive array of extras. I can't wait for Mileston'e upcoming release of “The Dumb Girl of Portici” (1916), starring legendary Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova. I've already seen the movie and it's great – Milestone's Blu-ray release promises to be something special and should be available soon.

The Champion

THE CHAMPION (Perez, 2015)

Milestone Films, DVD, Release Date Oct 17, 2017

Review by Christopher S. Long

On the run from the big-city crime syndicate's goons, an intrepid band of heroes hides out in a sleepy little town …

No, that's not the set-up for a low-budget crime caper or Western, it's the set-up for actual film history. OK, perhaps the Motion Picture Patents Company (AKA The Edison Trust) wasn't an actual crime syndicate, but their rigorous enforcement of the stranglehold they held on crucial motion-picture equipment patents forced many independent New York-based filmmakers to devise more innovative methods of production.

One of the simpler strategies was to hop the ferry across the Hudson River to New Jersey, where it would be at least somewhat more difficult for Trust detectives to muscle out the competition. Film producer Mark Dintenfass was one of the first to make the leap, setting up his Champion Studios in Fort Lee, NJ, which kicked off a movie boom as other producers soon made the same move, all of which explains the title of the new documentary, “The Champion: A Story of America's First Film Town” (2015).

Produced by the Fort Lee Film Commission, directed by Marc J. Perez, and based on the book “Fort Lee, the Film Town” by Richard Koszarski, this sleek 35-minute documentary tells the story of the rise and fall of this pre-Hollywood movie mecca and the colorful personalities who flocked to it, and then soon fled. The list includes Florence Lawrence, often described as the first American actress to be studio-marketed by name; Theda Bara, who first vamped world audiences from Fort Lee; and trailblazer Alice Guy Blache, the first woman to run an American studio (Solax). Future Hollywood moguls such as Mack Sennett and D.W. Griffith filmed in Fort Lee as well.

Dintenfass's Champion cranked out a series of Westerns and Civil War pictures for a few years, before falling to local competition. The documentary, largely filmed on Fort Lee locations, vividly evokes the specific spaces of this old boom town, from Rambo's Hotel on the main street to the steep Palisades nearby which would provide the backdrop for many of the earliest (literal) cliffhangers. The Fort Lee boom wouldn't last long, petering out due to a host of factors: the waning of the Edison Trust's powers, war-time shortages, a flu pandemic that hit the northeast particularly hard, and, of course, the rise of Hollywood, California. But during its brief peak, the town still produced a plethora of significant early films.

Even with its short running time, “The Champion” pauses to mourn Fort Lee's fall from glory (as “the first film town” anyway) and particularly the degree to which even locals, let alone the rest of the world, have largely forgotten its movie history. Never fear. This sharp, engaging, and informative documentary brings this vital story back to life with passion and clarity, and once you've seen it, you'll never forget about Fort Lee's role in the formative years of the industry.

Still, at just 35-minutes, “The Champion” might be a tough sell as a stand-alone disc, but you may not be aware that this a Milestone Films release. And the name Milestone guarantees not just supreme quality but also a comprehensive roster of supplemental features on any release, and in this case, enough to expand “The Champion” into a 2-disc set.

Milestone has, in keeping with its glorious tradition, included not one, not two, not... aw heck, they've included nine additional films, all of which are accompanied by new scores.

DISC ONE includes the main documentary feature, “The Champion” along with six other films.

The first five extra films on the disc were shot at Champion from 1910 to 1912.

“The Indian Land Grab” (1910, 11 min.) tells the story of an Indian leader who petitions the federal government not to seize his tribe's land. You might groan a bit at the prospect of a film from this era depicting Native Americans, but the film portrays them as the aggrieved party out for justice and even takes time out for the Indian leader to fall in love with the daughter of a legislator which, according to the notes included with this set, generated controversy at the time.

“A Daughter of Dixie” (1911, 10 min.) presents viewers with an innocent, true-hearted Southern belle whose loyalties are torn when her brother joins the Confederacy and her boyfriend joins the Union. It's no masterpiece, but at least it doesn't indulge mindlessly in the pro-Confederacy nostalgia that was the coin of the realm in so much early cinema.

Florence Lawrence

“Not Like Other Girls” (1912, 9 min.) was shot for Universal Victor, a studio built primarily around Florence Lawrence, often called America's first named movie star. This was a bit of a thrill for me as I've actually lectured on Florence Lawrence without ever seeing a full movie with her before. Lawrence plays another true-hearted heroine who proves she doesn't love her beau just for his money. The movie is predictable fluff, but I give a big thumbs up to F-Law.

“Flo's Discipline” (1912, 11 min.) is another Florence Lawrence vehicle that is, alas, not as saucy as its title teases. Lawrence plays a teacher tasked with taming an unruly boys' school which requires a good deal of ingenuity and assertiveness on her part. Lawrence is no shrinking violet here, and the movie is a lot of fun.

“Marked Cards” (1913, 10 min.) was one of the last of Champion's films and it doesn't do much to argue that the brand should have continued. A banker gets ripped off in a crooked card game and seeks revenge in a rather half-baked manner. It's much hard-boiled then the other films on the disc, but not particularly successful.

The sixth extra film on Disc One is yet another documentary about Fort Lee. “Ghost Town: The Story of Fort Lee” (1935, 17 min.) adopts a full elegy mode little more than a decade after Fort Lee's boom went bust. Produced by New Jersey film buff Theodore Huff, it positions the collapse of “America's first film town” as a cautionary tale for a society built on the boom-bust cycle, the future ruins of capitalism visible in the ruins of Fort Lee's film studios. It's quite moving, and seems like a clear inspiration for “The Champion.”

DISC TWO offers three silent films also shot in Fort Lee, though not specifically for or at Champion.

“The Danger Game” (1918, 61 min.) is an early Samuel Goldwyn production, directed by Harry Pollard and starring Madge Kennedy, a Broadway comedienne then making the jump to the suddenly (somewhat) legitimate big screen. Kennedy plays Clytie Rogers, a sheltered young woman of privilege who fancies herself the next great American novelist. When her first book (published largely because of her well-connected father) is panned by a critic who accuses her of being too naïve to write convincingly about the world, she vows to prove she can commit to a life of crime. Hilarity ensues. The film adopts an ambivalent if not outright condescending view of the liberated post-war American woman, but Kennedy (perhaps best known to '50s audiences as Aunt Martha on “Leave it to Beaver”) is a game performer who throws herself headfirst into a series of challenges.

“A Grocery Clerk's Romance” (1912, 8 min.) is an early Keystone Comedy directed by Mack Sennett which was shot at Rambo's Hotel in Fort Lee. It's not quite as zany or kinetic as more familiar Keystone comedies, but it's got plenty of pizazz, not to mention bombs and quickie marriages. Starring Ford Sterling.

“Robin Hood” (1912, 31 min.) was shot at Eclair Studios, one of the most successful outfits to set up shop in Fort Lee. At a half hour in length and with some elaborate action sequences, it was a fairly ambitious undertaking for its time that remains quite compelling more than a century later.

Video:

Obviously, with ten total films released as much as a century apart, the video quality varies considerably. I'll just note that “The Danger Game” required the most extensive restoration and is still missing some footage (replaced with stills here) and is at its most perilous state of decay in the first reel. It's amazing that the film survives at all, and the restoration to reach its current presentable state has been quite extensive, more heroic work from our great film restoration experts.

Audio:

Each of the silent films is accompanied by a new score. All of the films aside from “The Champion” on Disc One have music by Ben Model. “The Danger Game” has music by Donald Sosin. “A Grocery Clerk's Romance” and “Robin Hood” are accompanied with music compiled by Rodney Sauer and performed by the Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra.

Extras:

The “extras” are all described above. The only additional extra is the slim inert booklet with summaries and historical background for each of the films includes in this two-disc set.

Final Thoughts:

“The Champion” is yet another lovingly and meticulously curated release from Milestone Films, telling a vital and largely forgotten story about the formative days of the American film industry. The inclusion of a cornucopia of silent films, many never previously released on DVD and some painstakingly restored here, is a source of celebration for any true film lover. Plus you get two Florence Lawrences!

In The Land Of The Head Hunters

IN THE LAND OF THE HEAD HUNTERS (Curtis, 1914)

Milestone Films, Blu-ray, Release Date February 24, 2015

Review by Christopher S. Long

Note: In the past, I have expressed a certain disdain for lazy critics who rely too much on a film's press kit for their reviews. To not avail myself of the press material presented for “In the Land of the Head Hunters” (1914), however, would be irresponsible because the history of the production, release, and unlikely survival of this century-old film is so fascinatingly tortuous and the notes presented by the always fastidious Milestone Films are so extensive. Check out the info on their press page if you're interested.

Photographer Edward S. Curtis is best known for his sprawling twenty-volume reference “The North American Indian” which he began work on in 1906 with funding from a humble gentleman of finance named John Pierpont Morgan. Curtis's years of extensive field research soon left him strapped for cash despite his high-level backing and he hatched a plan to pool investors' money for a feature-length film about the Kwakiutl (now known as the Kwakwaka’wakw) people of Vancouver Island in Canada. The feature-length film itself was a relatively new idea (comedy shorts being the coin of the realm at the time) let alone one starring Kwakwaka’wakw actors and shot on a remote location with limited technological infrastructure. Curtis's audacity bordered on lunacy.

Curtis was already renowned for his luminous, lavishly produced portraits (today now highly sought as collectibles) and promised a similarly elegant design for his film, leading him to the heavy use of tinting and toning, a reminder that those old black-and-white pictures were not always just black-and-white. He also hired composer John J. Braham (of Gilbert and Sullivan fame) to prepare an original feature-length score, another fairly unusual idea at the time. With the crucial collaboration of George Hunt, a Kwakwaka’wakw man credited for interpretation and research but working as assistant director, Curtis launched three years of laborious pre-production culminating with a shoot on Deer Island and other nearby locations. By 1914 “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” was finished and was finally ready to take the world by storm.

It certainly looked like Curtis had a hit on his hands when the film debuted in late 1914 as early audiences queued up and critics waxed rhapsodic. Poet Vachel Lindsay described it as “a supreme art achievement” at a time when this disreputable proletarian medium was seldom taken seriously as art. Alas, an ongoing dispute between Curtis and the distributor torpedoed the film's chances at a sustained theatrical release. It came nowhere close to breaking even and Curtis eventually sold off the negative and, with it, the copyright in 1922.

That's only the beginning of this film's strange odyssey. Before we continue with that, however, let's talk about the movie itself.

Motana on his blue-tinted vigil

“In The Land Of The Head Hunters” tells a simple adventure tale of young Motana (Stanley Hunt), a chieftain's son, who goes on a vigil quest to gain spiritual power. Through a vision he falls in love with the maiden Naida (played by several different actresses) who is betrothed to a rival Sorcerer (Kwagwanu). The Sorcerer sends his powerful daughter (Mrs. George Walkus) to eliminate Motana but she falls in love with him instead. Eventually war breaks out between tribes over the impending wedding of Motana and Naida.

Curtis's scenario occurs in a historical era before contact with European settlers and emphasizes traditional (the unfortunate adjective in the film's subtitle is “primitive”) customs and equipment, including ornate costumes and outrageously beautiful giant war canoes that were built just for the film. The cliched details of the hero's journey pale in significance compared to the film's staging of rituals such as the mesmerizing Thunderbird Dance, a sea lion hunt, and the extraordinary extended sequence of a war party on the rampage. 

The Thunderbird dance

The shots of seascapes, rocky islands, intricately carved Kwakwaka’wakw buildings and especially those amazing canoes are sometimes breathtaking and made all the more vital by knowing they are now more than a century old. Sometimes the images are still clear if a bit soft; other times they can just barely be glimpsed around the edges of a nitrate frame that is in a desperate state of deterioration (though this too has a beauty of its own); and at several points, particularly in the opening, still images have been inserted to bridge missing scenes. And this is where we pick up the story of “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” after Curtis abandoned the negative.

The film was all but forgotten until 1947 when a 35mm print surfaced in Chicago in the hands of a private collector (it was allegedly found in a dumpster behind a theater). When it was screened the print caught fire but still survived and found its way to the Field Museum where a 16mm copy was created and the original (and highly flammable) 35mm print was destroyed.

Little was done with the remaining copy until 1972 when the remaining material was re-edited and given a new naturalistic soundtrack: birds chirping, paddles splashing in the water, and even faux-synch dialogue when actors' faces and lips were not clearly visible. The 43-minute “sound film” was released as “In The Land of the War Canoes” and marketed as a documentary. Setting aside the dubious nature of such an indexing strategy, the new release at least preserved images of a film all but forgotten.

Two more reels of the original 35mm nitrate surfaced later and found their way to the UCLA Film Archive and this would finally set the stage for the restoration of the film that Milestone Films has distributed as part of this two-disc set. A project spearheaded by academics Brad Evans and Aaron Glass sought to combine the Field Museum's 16mm copy, the two 35mm nitrate reels and an ample collection of stills in the Library of Congress's collection to bring the film as close as possible to its 1914 state.

For the details on this, I refer you to Milestone's press site once again. Suffice it to say that even with multiple sources, plenty of original material was missing and will likely never be recovered. The cut presented on this disc runs 66 minutes while the original may have been about twenty minutes longer, and that 66 minutes includes the aforementioned insertion of stills to preserve the narrative structure. Milestone also secured the rights to the original score which was then performed by Vancouver's Turning Point ensemble for this release, making it one of the earliest surviving feature-length scores.

“In The Land Of The Head Hunters” is definitely not a documentary (it is set well in the past, for one thing) and some of its representations of Kwakwaka’wakw traditions are inevitably the product of Curtis's vision and cultural biases rather than fully faithful recreations. Regardless, these images are still an invaluable record of a place and a people seldom represented on film and, just as importantly, of individuals now long gone. One of the most moving aspects of the features included on this two-disc set is hearing contemporary Kwakwaka’wakw descendants of the actors in the film speak so lovingly of the personal meaning the film has for them.

It's amazing that “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” was ever made in the first place, even more amazing that it has survived a full century. It didn't happen on its own. The extraordinary amount of labor required to restore the film to its current state and then to distribute it digitally is a testament to the love so many people have for this delicate medium as well as the esteem the various collaborators on this extensive project have for Edward S. Curtis's one-of-a-kind project.

Video:

For reasons stated above, this transfer of “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” does not and could not possibly provide a pristine picture. The quality varies substantially from radiant to almost completely decayed; a few shots offer only a hint of image around the burned-out spots comprising most of the frame. In several cases, stills from the Library of Congress's collection have been inserted to bridge missing scenes. A variety of tints and tones is on display as well, though the B&W images tend to be the sharpest. Title cards have been recreated and these, obviously, are the sharpest-looking shots in the movie. Fortunately the better-preserved shots still showcase the beauty of the film's photography; while seldom razor-sharp they display enough detail for viewers to appreciate the artistry of many of the intricate carvings constructed for the movie. And my goodness, those canoes are works of art! Understanding the age of the material and the perilous state of its preservation over the years, this high-def image is pretty miraculous.

Audio:

“In The Land Of The Head Hunters” can be listened to with either a linear PCM 2.0 or a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 track. What you're getting with this silent film, of course, is the score - the original century-old score! - recently recorded by Vancouver's Turning Point Ensemble. The score sounds fantastic with either audio option and I don't think anyone could ask for better. “In The Land of The War Canoes” is presented with a linear PCM 2.0 track for its added naturalistic soundtrack which sounds a bit hollow and thin, but just fine.

Extras:

This two-disc Blu-ray set is a Milestone Films release so you know it's going to be loaded with relevant and insightful extras.

For starters, Disc One includes this newly-restored cut of “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” while Disc Two is headlined by the 1973 release “In The Land Of The War Canoes” (see above for more info). Each film is accompanied by substantial additional features.

The extras on Disc One:

The film is accompanied by a commentary track by Bill Holm, Andy Everson, and Aaron Glass. I have, unfortunately, not had a chance to do more than briefly sample this yet since I wanted to be able to sort through all these extras on this set and post a review before the end of the year!

“Documents of Encounter: The Head Hunters Reconstruction Project” (2014, 37 min.) addresses the film's unusual production and release history with footage from a 2014 screening of this current cut in British Columbia. Another highlight is hearing from the son of the film's star Stanley Hunt. This feature suggests that the film remains very important to Kwakwaka’wakw people today.

A short feature (3 min.) shows a recording session by Vancouver's Turning Point Ensemble as they play the score for the film.

Disc One also includes a Stills Gallery (5 min.) and a Trailer (1 min.)

The extras on Disc Two:

As mentioned above, this disc includes a high-def transfer of “In The Land Of The War Canoes” (44 min.) This is the version most people knew if they knew the film at all. It has been edited to emphasize the adventure quality even more, especially the title canoes and has an added soundtrack with effects and dialogue.

“The Image Maker and The Indians” (1979, 16 min.) is an informative feature about the life of Edward S. Curtis. An eccentric host takes us through Curtis's early career including an expedition to Alaska that helped establish his reputation. It also talks about the film's release and about George Hunt, the Kwakwaka’wakw consultant and assistant director who played such an important role in the film's production.

A “Cultural Presentation By The Gwa'wina Dancers” (2008, 83 min.) is a lengthy record of a performance by these dancers at a screening of “In The Land Of The Head Hunters” at the University of British Columbia on June 22, 2008. There are some amazing dances performed here and they sure went all out.

The disc also includes nearly a dozen audio recordings made by Curtis. These are wax cylinder recordings of various native singers in and near Fort Rupert in 1910. Each song runs about 1 minute.

Final Thoughts:

How many hundred year old feature films have you seen recently? This two-disc Blu-ray set pays tribute both to a remarkable film about a remarkable people and to the extraordinary collaborative effort to preserve, restore and distribute that film. Cinema's true power is primarily that of making images seen; that these luminous images can still be seen a hundred years later is something to cherish.

Magic Box: The Films of Shirley Clarke

THE MAGIC BOX: THE FILMS OF SHIRLEY CLARKE, 1929-1987

Milestone Film, Blu-ray, Release Date Nov 15, 2016

Review by Christopher S. Long

Milestone Film's sprawling, four-volume Project Shirley now runs at 1,165 minutes, give or take a few minutes for rounding errors. That's a daunting 19 hours and spare change, but I feel like the spirit of this grand enterprise is captured in just a few seconds on one of the smaller features included in Volume Four, “The Magic Box: The Films of Shirley Clarke, 1929-1987.”

Disc Two of this three-disc package kicks off with a one-minute montage of still photos of Shirley Clarke, the filmmaker/star of this whole project, in the midst of various ballet moves, back when she was known to the world as young dancer Shirley Brimberg. On the final photo of Clarke (then Brimberg), the camera zooms in to a tight close-up on her face, as she looks intent on striking the perfect pose, and holds as the Shostakovich on the soundtrack reaches its final climax.

Shirley Brimberg

The inclusion of such a “minor” feature at all provides yet another example of the meticulousness that defines every Milestone release. The placement this little feature at the beginning of a disc with over two-and-a-half hours of footage indicates that Project Shirley does not consider anything about its title star to be “minor.” The final zoom in on Clarke's face suggests that the Milestone team possesses a strong affinity for the woman herself, not just her work, an affinity that might qualify as unabashed personal affection, though I hesitate to act as a mind reader.

Project Shirley has taken Milestone nearly a decade to complete, and what began as an effort to fully restore the reputation of a great American filmmaker who had been unfairly overlooked has finished as an unqualified success of impressive proportions. The first three volumes of Project Shirley centered around feature films, including “The Connection” (1962),Clarke's renowned adaptation of a play about strung-out jazz musicians waiting for their next fix; “Portrait of Jason” (1967), a landmark LGBT film about a self-described “stone whore” and hustler; and the free-wheeling, psychedelic jazz documentary “Ornette: Made in America” (1984).

The copious extras included in each volume chronicled the professional and personal journey of Shirley Clarke, the dancer turned filmmaker who spent as much of her career struggling to secure resources to complete projects as she did shooting the groundbreaking films at the heart of Project Shirley. Volume Four relates even more of this story, with a dizzying array of films of various lengths, though mostly of the short variety; some completed, some abandoned unfinished, some taken over by other filmmakers, some only recently discovered during the research for Project Shirley.

The nearly forty titles nestled gently inside of this “Magic Box” run over eight hours in total and range from Clarke's boldest experimental films to a PBS-style (and Oscar-winning) documentary about poet Robert Frost and even include numerous home movies from Clarke's childhood, her wedding, and family vacations. Any documented aspect of Clarke's story is fair game for Project Shirley. I can only touch on a representative sampling of the work on this volume.

Disc One is devoted to Clarke's more experimental films, kicking off with a lengthy compilation titled “Brussels Film Loops.” This 59-minute feature consists of a series of short films commissioned for the American Pavilion at the 1958 Brussels World Fair, some credited solely to Clarke, some to famed documentarian D.A. Pennebaker with Clarke editing. They offer short portraits of American life: Western landscapes, city life, the American melting pot, etc.

“Bridges-Go-Round” is pure Clarke, and a fine example of her interest in manipulating the image, from color tinting to off-kilter angles providing vertiginous rides along a city bridge; you might even call it a dance. Electronic music on the soundtrack also demonstrates Clarke's interest in exploring the creative potentials of audio design, often with an intentionally alienating effect - witness the juxtapositions of gunfire and the sound of a baby crying on the jarring anti-war short “Butterfly” (1967, 4 min.), and one of the disc's true gems, the kaleidoscopic “24 Frames Per Second” (1977, 3 min.) which pairs swirling, rapid-fire images of Persian art with a distorted, aggressive soundtrack that is simultaneously energizing and agitating.

Skyscraper

One of the better films in the collection is Clarke's Oscar-winning short film “Skyscraper” (1960, 21 min.), made in collaboration with Willard Van Dyke, D.A. Pennebaker, Irving Jacoby, and John Sylvester White. Playful narration meets actuality footage to tell the heroic tale of the construction of a skyscraper from the ground up at 666 Fifth Avenue in New York, a building which would become the one-time headquarters of DC Comics (among other less significant American institutions.)

Disc Two houses the Dance Films of Shirley Clarke. Dance was Clarke's first passion and when the talented dancer realized she wasn't likely to work as a full-time professional ballet performer, she devoted her attention to capturing dance performances on film. I admit up front that I know as much about dance as I do about saying no to a second helping of my grandmother's pasta at New Year's Dinner, but for dance aficionados, these films offer some special treats. “Dance In the Sun” (1953, 7 min.) is described by Milestone as Clarke's first “official” film and features renowned dancer/choreographer Daniel Nagrin in a short piece that match cuts between his dance performance in studio and on a sandy beach... then ends with him leaning on a piano and smoking a post-recital cigarette, one of the playful touches that colors so much of Clarke's work.

The famous dancer and choreographer Anna Sokolow, also a co-founder of the Actors' Studio, collaborated with Clarke on multiple films on this disc, as choreographer on a brief excerpt titled “A Short Lecture and Demonstration on the Evolution of Ragtime by Jelly Roll Morton” (1952, 2 min.) and then starring in Clarke's short film “Bullfight” (9 min.), playing the roles of matador, bull, and audience in what Milestone lists as “the only record of the great dancer in performance.” Sokolow also collaborated with Clarke on the film “A Moment In Love” (9 min.), pairing Sokolow's choreography with Clarke's reliance on tinting and double exposures.

Disc Three offers more of a hodgepodge. “Robert Frost: A Lover's Quarrel With The World” (52 min.) won the Oscar for Best Documentary in 1964. The film was taken over during post-production by producer Robert Hughes, but Clarke remains credited as director. This “long-unseen complete version” was released shortly after Frost passed away and features the octogenarian poet holding court for audiences large and small, young and old, and also puttering around alone in his home. It's standard fare formally, but gripping due to Frost's considerable presence. The disc also includes the short film “Christopher and Me” (16 min.), directed by Richard Leacock with “continuity and dialogue by Shirley Clarke.” It's a cute children's film about a boating race which ends with a song written by D.A. Pennebaker.

The rest of the disc consists primarily of home movies and photos, from Clarke as a child to footage of her home life with husband Bert and family vacatons. One of these “home movies” is actually a series of on-set Outtakes (13 min.) from Agnes Varda's film “Lion's Love” (1969) in which Clarke acted (as herself). Evidence here suggests Varda really liked to smoke. I had been told about this footage in the past by the good folks at Milestone, but didn't expect it to actually show up on disc. It's a pleasant surprise for any Varda-phile, and that's surely everyone, right? You get some footage of Warhol superstar Viva too.

This collection (and the entirety of Project Shirley) is too expansive to sum up easily, and the same is true of Shirley Clarke's no-longer-eclipsed career. What we can say is that Project Shirley has spared no effort in providing audiences with the ability to explore her work, from feature films to childhood photos, from experimental short films to documentaries. It's almost impossible to ask for anything more.

A detailed listing of the offerings on each disc follows:

DISC ONE: EXPERIMENTAL

“Brussels Loops” (59 min.) - described above

“Bridges-Go-Round 1” (4 min.) and “Bridges-Go-Round 2” - described above

“Scary Time” (1960, 16 min) – A film commissioned by and then banned by UNICEF as Clarke and Robert Hughes's juxtaposition of American kids playing dress-up at Halloween with images of starving and sick children in other countries proved a bit too disturbing.

“Skyscraper” (21 min.) - described above

“Butterfly” (4 min.) - A Vietnam protest film by Shirley and her daughter Wendy, which was only screened once, then rediscovered during Project Shirley. It was previously included on the “Portrait of Jason” disc.

“Savage/Love” (1981, 26 min.) and “Tongues” (20 min.) - Video recordings of one-man stage monologues written by Sam Shepard and performed by Joseph Chaikin. Just the sort of theater pieces I'm fundamentally allergic to, but considering the talent involved, surely of interest to many. Clarke really loves to manipulate the video image even with such a straightforward setup as a monologue.

“24 Frames Per Second” (3 min.) - Described above and flat-out great.

“Three Video Variations on 24 Frames Per Second” (11 min.) - Dancers imposed in front of the Persian art images from the short film, in (you guessed it) three different variations.

DISC TWO: DANCE

“Shirley Dancing – A Photo Gallery” (1 min.) - A montage of stills.

“Fear Flight” (1953, 11 min.) - Another recent discovery from the Clarke archives, an unfinished film (a silent work print) of a dancer in front of a blank wall, choreographed by Beatrice Seckler.

“Jelly Roll Morton” (2 min.) - described above.

“Home Movies #20: Dance Tests” (6 min.) - More footage of dancer Daniel Nagrin.

“Dance In the Sun” (1953, 7 min.) - described above

“In Paris Parks” (1954, 14 min.) - When Clarke traveled to Paris and got stood up by her planned film subject, she used her time to film this shot film in Paris featuring her daughter Wendy playing, maintenance workers setting up kids' rides, and a very unsafe-looking zoo.

“This Is Not In Paris Parks” (13 min.) - A a “surprise” second film Clarke was shooting in Paris (another recent discovery), this unfinished piece is somewhere between outtakes and final film. As if including this wasn't fastidious enough, Milestone went ahead and commissioned a new score by the great Donald Sosin as accompaniment because that's just the way they roll.

“Decroux” (15 min.) - Starring French mime Etienne Decroux in performance.

“Bullfight” (9 min.) and “Bullfight Outtakes” (2 min.) - described above

“Rose And the Players – Part 1 (13 min.) and Part 2(7 min.)” - Excerpts from another unfinished film, this collaboration between Clarke and Anna Sokolow shows Sokolow directing a rehearsal of some of her choreographed pieces. This project was unfinished, but let to...

“A Moment In Love” (9 min.) - described above

“Four Journeys Into Mystic Time” - Four short films from the same cycle, a Clarke collaboration with choreographer Marion Scott. Occult imagery abounds in sometimes poorly-lit images (the original negatives are missing) of some very strange dance performers beyond my ken.

DISC THREE: ROBERT FROST AND THE HOME MOVIES

“Robert Frost: A Lover's Quarrel” (52 min.) - described above

“Christopher and Me” (16 min.) - described above

“Lion's Love Outtakes” (13 min.) - described above

“The Brimberg and Clarke Photo Albums” (6 min.) - an extensive collection of family photos

“Television Interview w/ Shirley Clarke in Minneapolis” (1956, 3 min.) - Clarke patiently answers questions about what it's like to be a female filmmaker, and shares her love for dance.

“Home Movies” - Six different features running a total of 41 minutes, including home movies from Clarke as a child, to her wedding, to vacations with family and friends. The highlight of these feature are the only two known film recordings of Clarke dancing, ever so briefly.

Video:

With nearly forty different titles over a fifty year period, some in B&W and some in color, some only recently found in archives, the video quality obviously varies throughout the set. However, the image quality is consistently strong throughout as many titles have been restored. Any brief weak spots (some dark shots in “Bullfight” for example) are very much the exception in a consistently well-produced set.

Audio:

A similar deal here. Many films, many sources, some are silent, sometimes the sound is intentionally distorted by Clarke. My copious viewing/listening notes do not include any references to troublesome sound spots, so another fine job here.

Extras:

What, you wanted even more? Sorry, you'll have to settle for just 500 or so minutes of material. OK, fine, Milestone also includes a slim insert booklet with more detailed information about the Magic Box's contents.

Final Thoughts:

Other studios have released massive DVD/Blu-ray sets dedicated to a filmmaker's work. I have not yet seen one with quite the scope of Project Shirley. Milestone isn't just showing off by including so many titles, both short and long. While Clarke is remembered for features like “The Connection” and “Portrait of Jason” she spent much of her time struggling to complete projects, and her unfinished films are just as crucial to an appreciation of her career. The inclusion of several variations on her films (many previously buried in the archives) also provides evidence of an artist constantly experimenting and refining her technique. Clarke may have “only” completed a handful of features, but she was constantly working at her craft.

Milestone's Project Shirley leaves us with an indelible portrait of a great American filmmaker who was both politically engaged and formally engaged in an exploration of the mediums in which she worked, including video as well as film. Project Shirley is more than a DVD series, it's a scholarly biography and, just as important, a pleasure to watch. “The Magic Box” is no exception.

I've had the pleasure of reviewing all four volumes of Project Shirley, and I invite you to check out my reviews by clicking below on either the Project Shirley or Clarke.Shirley tabs. The entire project is, to say the very least, essential viewing for any cinephile.