I didn’t believe it until I had it in my hands—MCA/Universal’s long, long, long-awaited (we’re talking a full THREE YEARS since the title was first announced by MCA) remastering of Steven Spielberg’s notorious belly-flop '1941' is finally a reality. It’s been issued as a "Signature Collection" special edition. The arrival of a new letterboxed '1941' completes the Spielberg widescreen laserdisc catalog—all of his movies are now available letterboxed.
You may not be an avid fan of this misunderstood and oft-maligned farce, but this disc may just turn out to be the must-have collectors’ edition of the year. How often is it that a certified bomb from a top-shelf director gets the royal special edition laserdisc treatment? Misfires this big—good or bad—usually get swept under the carpet, never to be seen nor talked about in public again. Think of 'Inchon' Or 'Ishtar'. Or Disney’s 'The Black Cauldron' and 'The Black Hole' (I personally love these two last movies, as do hoards of fans, but I think you get my drift).
Assembled much like the recent Signature Collection edition of 'Jaws', the boxed set of '1941' is a 4-disc, 8 sided edition with a healthy supplementary section. '1941' is presented in its Panavision 2.35:1 aspect ratio and the movie has been expanded to include 26 minutes of footage that was cut from the 1979 theatrical release (this footage was shown during the broadcast premiere and on several runs on the Disney Channel a few years ago, but this is the first time you can see the extra footage without it having been cut and dubbed by censors).
The film is spread across 5 sides, all of it in CAV. Some of the side breaks are sudden, but this may have a lot to do with MCA’s mastering of the disc itself (there are no "buffer" frames of black before a side ends or at the head of a disc; instead the sides abruptly break with no warning). As in the special expanded edition laserdiscs of 'The Abyss' and 'Terminator 2', the restored scenes within '1941' are "marked" by a slight editing jump (when old outtakes are re-edited into the film, the editing process requires that one frame be lost in the actual splicing of the two pieces). This is never noticeable when entire scenes are inserted and only slightly discernible when extra material has been added to single scenes.
As for the image quality, the hazy, almost surreal look Spielberg was aiming for has been faithfully rendered here. The image occasionally looks soft during some sequences (like the foggy scenes on the Japanese submarine and an early-morning sequence at an air base that glows in an over-exposed glare of sunlight). Other than the intentional haze, the image is sharp, and the colors are accurate, even though this is one of the more dreary color palettes Spielberg’s ever worked with—lots of grays, olives and browns, with very few bright colors. The film is clean and free of the dust and speckles that marred the previous laserdisc and videocassette releases, and it seems that every title (from the opening credits, to the subtitles used throughout the film, to the closing credits) has been regenerated. The subtitles are in white at the bottom of the film image, but are big enough and always easy to read.
Starting out the supplementary section on sides 6 and 7 (in CLV), there’s a comprehensive 90-minute "Making Of" documentary that’s jammed with present-day interviews of Spielberg, writers Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale, executive producer John Milius, editor Michael Kahn, composer John Williams, cinematographer William Fraker, and special effects wizards A.D. Flowers and Gregory Jein. The filmmakers toss in everything but the kitchen sink in their discourse on why they wanted to make the film, its rocky history, its gargantuan production, and its abysmal critical and public reception. Interwoven into the interviews are behind-the-cameras peeks at the production, several outtakes and footage of home movies Spielberg shot on the set.
On side 8 (in CAV) there are additional outtakes (some with missing audio), three trailers (the first is obviously a very early trailer, because Belushi’s character has a different name), production photographs, storyboards and poster concepts. And in a bit of irony (or, perhaps, as a self-deprecating touch that serves to deflate the impression in Hollywood that Spielberg had an enormous ego when he made this film), several critical reviews from 1979 -- all of them panning the film and criticizing Spielberg for wasting so much money—are reprinted here.
John William’s triumphant score—highlighted by what Spielberg feels is Williams’ most accomplished "march" theme for any of his films—is isolated on both analog tracks, in stereo. The music, when isolated, is much more powerful and dynamic than when heard within the film. The analog tracks boast an enveloping surround mix that does justice to the brassy, titanic score. The movie itself was initially released theatrically in monaural and was remixed for Dolby Surround on videocassette in the mid-‘80s. The laserdisc maintains this Dolby Surround mix, but there are not too many directional separation effects, and even fewer rear-channel effects. Essentially, the film plays mostly in monaural—but this is fine, since the sound quality is consistently crisp and clean.
Of course, everything’s been given the THX stamp of approval.
Whether or not time has rehabilitated '1941' remains to be seen. The movie’s a loud, obnoxious, hectic free-for-all, with characters yelling and screaming instead of talking. And for a comedy, there are precious few funny characters, with almost no comic dialogue—only the physical situations, crashes, explosions, fights and stunts are occasionally really funny, and then only because of the "bulldozer effect"—if you break something big enough, it’s GOT to be funny, right? What was back in 1979 an out-of-control behemoth (the budget skyrocketed from $11 million to $35 million, which would make it the 'Waterworld' of its time) is still a headache-inducing, though brilliantly-staged, ballet of slapstick and mayhem. Time hasn’t toned-down the pandemonium or reduced the hit-you-over-the-head hijinx, nor has the 17 years made the many flat jokes in the film any funnier.
To be fair, there are some great bits here and there, such as a long jitterbug/fight sequence that is spectacularly choreographed and expertly edited—and in all the brouhaha you can clearly see the seeds for the opening scene of 'Temple of Doom'. There are also a lot of inside jokes (the same actress from 'Jaws' is used in the opening parody scene; Lenny & Squiggy from TV’s 'Laverne & Shirley' show up as two anti-aircraft gunners; the gas station Dennis Weaver went to in 'Duel' is revisited, and the same actress is back as the owner), and Spielberg takes some time—and a lot of joy—in pointing many of them out.
Spielberg says he directed this movie simply because he "wanted to break a lot of furniture." Zemeckis, Gale and Milius state that they simply wanted to have some fun, and make a movie that reflected their collective demented, decidedly anti-PC, sense of humor.
There’s a Hollywood axiom that states no comedy should ever run longer than 105 minutes (Sydney Pollack discusses this on the audio commentary track of Criterion’s 'Tootsie'), and at 120 minutes, the original version of '1941' certainly pushed this to the limit. Now, at a marathon 146 minutes, the restored '1941' tries your patience even more. As the credits roll, the film has just about worn-out its welcome.
So why do some consider this a comedy classic that was way ahead of its time? Well, to be sure, Spielberg may be correct in his assessment that the hyper-edited pandemonium is more akin to today’s quick-cut, rat-tat-tat mentality of the CD-ROM, Net-surfer set. But a lot has to do with the film’s superior special effects (those terrific models can still hold their own with anything Hollywood’s producing today), a cast overflowing with faces that have since become bigger stars (look quickly for Mickey Rourke, Michael McKean, Penny Marshall and Joe Dante stock player Dick Miller), and the simple fact that Spielberg bounced back nicely from this disaster with "Raiders"—and has been on a steadily rising tract ever since. A movie like this should have derailed his career (and would have buried any other young director who didn’t have a 'Jaws' or 'Close Encounters' under his belt). Today, one of our finest and most successful director’s only misfire stands as a curiosity, a testament to the hubris of young hot-shot filmmakers out of control, and an example that, sometimes, bigger is not necessarily better.
NOTE: The liner notes indicate that the film is "not rated" because the extended version didn’t have to go through the ratings board (the original rating was PG). The film contains one F-word, scenes of making out and one scene where a soldier keeps trying to force himself on a woman. There’s no graphic violence apart from a lot of property damage.
VITAL STATISTICS: MCA/Universal Home Video; 4 discs, 8 sides; movie in CAV, extras in CLV and CAV; Anamorphic Widescreen (2.35:1); THX; Stereo Surround; Chapter stops; Closed Captioned; $129.95.
S. Damien Segal.
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