Tag: apocalypse now

Best Blu-Rays of 2010

Best Blu-Rays of 2010

After acquiring my Playstation 3 last summer, I’ve gone mad with Blu-Ray fever, and I spent most of 2010 attempting to make my Blu-Ray collection resemble the massive and unnecessary scale of my DVD stash. Though I do not have a multi-region player and thus this list will include only Regions A and 0 discs, I stand by my year-end picks of the most essential discs for a cinephile’s collection. Not all will give your home theater a workout, but most will, and they all demonstrate the capacity of the medium to not only give the best possible image but to retain film-like quality like never before. So, without further ado, here are the Blu-Rays, and a handful of DVDs, you need to own.

Best Blu-Rays of 2010

1. By Brakhage, Vols. I & II (Criterion)

A collection of a master’s work that displays its greatness as much by the caliber of material left off the set as the genius of the included short films, By Brakhage is a necessary and infinitely rewarding trove of experimental cinema. Criterion have always erred on the side of preservation of a film’s look over completely smoothing grain, but they’ve managed to upgrade the technical specs of Stan Brakhage’s work while doing nothing to compromise the original image. Grain is omnipresent, because Brakhage incorporated it into his visual freak-outs (some of the shorts left off the set were omitted because Brakhage designed them with the flicker of a proper film projector in mind). Complete with footage of Brakhage’s lectures and interviews and a massive booklet, By Brakhage is a masterpiece right down to the cover art.

2. City Girl/Sunrise (Masters of Cinema)

It’s understandable that the otherwise laudable Kino and Criterion would insist on region-coding now that UK’s Eureka! label have gotten in on the Blu-Ray game: their pledge to release region-free BDs could cause trouble when Americans get a full view of the quality of their products. To date, their finest offerings are two restorations of F.W. Murnau classics. City Girl may not be on the same level as Sunrise (one of the 10 best films ever made), but the restoration Eureka! did for it manages to outstrip even that of Sunrise. A film made In 1931 has no business looking this pristine, and the near-total lack of the heavy damage expected in films this old distracted me from how great the film itself is, and how much it influenced masters like Terrence Malick. As for Murnau’s masterpiece, it shows its age more but still looks fantastic, and the alternate version unearthed looks even nicer. It also comes with a documentary on 4 Devils, Muranu’s legendary lost film, making these two must-owns for any cinephile.

3. The Night of the Hunter (Criterion)

Criterion’s work on Charles Laughton’s fairy tale/horror The Night of the Hunter leaps over the high bar the distributor has already set for itself, turns around, raise the bar higher, then jumps over it again. Certain flaws inherent in the print remain, but the grain is pleasantly balanced when it appears, and the film never suffers for its shifts between cleaner studio shots and hazier location shoots. As impressive is the home video debut of the 2002 documentary comprising a trove of outtake footage Laughton’s widow released after his death. The two-and-a-half-hour behind-the-scenes doc shows just how meticulously and forcefully the director planned each moment, even berating the child actors to make them convincing in their scenes of terror and despair (or maybe he just hated them; Robert Mitchum himself attested to the latter). The Night of the Hunter is one of the most lyrical, multifaceted movies ever made, and Criterion gave it the treatment it well deserved.

4. Apocalypse Now: Full Disclosure Edition (Lionsgate)

Presented in its definitive packaging, the Full Disclosure Edition of Apocalypse Now contains so many extras that it’s almost easy to ignore the film itself. Then you watch it (and, just as importantly, listen to it), and the stuffed-to-the-gills set takes a back seat to the enduring audiovisual might of Coppola’s schizoid triumph. A sterling video transfer and flawless update of the pioneering surround sound track make Apocalypse Now not only a film that should be a go-to on its cinematic quality but as a means of showing off a home theater. They don’t make ’em like this anymore, and that’s probably a good thing for the mental and physical health of every director working today.

5. Beauty and the Beast (Disney)

Disney’s work with their films has been nothing less than exemplary, and I nearly flipped a coin to decide between this and their restoration of Walt Disney’s still-ahead-of-its-time, genre-annihilating Fantasia. But the Beast won out, not only for the slight edge it offers it audiovisual upgrade but for the host of extras it offers. Commentary tracks, a making-of twice as long as the actual film, remastered deleted scenes, a host of ported DVD extras and more add to the immaculate restoration of one of Disney’s finest films, making the complexities of the love story between Belle and a transformed prince all the more engaging. The best Disney movies have the ability to take your breath away, and however much of an imperial sub-power they’ve become, someone over there still recognizes that and has put all effort into ensuring the presentations of those films leave us breathless, too.

6. The Thin Red Line (Criterion)

Far and away the best audiovisual presentation of the year, and certainly a contender for one of the most impressive in home video history, Criterion’s Blu-Ray of The Thin Red Line took one of the most beautiful films ever made and somehow makes it look even better. Fans sent rumors into a whirlwind over the possibility of the original, five-hour workprint version being included, but the scant outtakes that are included are a joy, containing elongated shots of Terrence Malick’s sensual transcendentalism and even the faces of cut actors like Mickey Rourke. Yet the caliber of the extras only seems the cherry on top as I continue to marvel over the sheer perfection of the film’s high-definition mastering. The Thin Red Line is one of the great war films, one that manages to avoid glorifying war while still being enthralling, and the Blu-Ray perfectly captures its power.

7. The Double Life of Veronique (Artificial Eye)

With Criterion’s own update on the way in February, I shall be interested to see if they can produce a finer transfer than the sterling one offered by Artificial Eye’s region-free disc. Containing most of the extras included in Criterion’s DVD release – the highlight of which are short films by Kieslowski – the Artificial Eye Blu-Ray proves its own mettle with a stunning transfer that restores, then bolsters, the original cinematography to its transfixing, green-yellow glory. Kieslowski was a sensualist poet, treading in metaphysics but only ever putting emotion on the screen in a way that only the finest modern directors – Malick, Kar-wai, Kiarostami – can manage. The Double Life of Veronique is possibly the best starting point for Kieslowski’s

8. Minority Report (Paramount)

Steven Spielberg was an early supporter of Blu-Ray and refused to let his films appear on what he felt was the inferior HD-DVD, but since Paramount initially had HD-DVD exclusivity, we had to make do with the (excellent) Close Encounters of the Third Kind set until Spielberg could get to work on remastering his modern films for Blu-Ray release. The wait was worth it. All of Spielberg’s Dreamworks releases this year — Minority Report, War of the Worlds and Saving Private Ryan — Minority Report benefits the most from the upgrade (besides, it’s my favorite of the three listed). The sterile, hyper-white tones of deceptively utopian society are blinding, while the more chaotic look of the film’s dynamic scenes is immaculately preserved while still looking gritty. Spielberg avoids commentary tracks (a crying shame, since he’d probably be brilliant at them), but there are enough behind-the-scenes mini-documentaries to satisfy all your pressing questions. The bounty of extras pushes a superb offering over the top, and one of Spielberg’s finest films has never looked better.

9. The Twilight Zone: Season 1 (Image Entertainment)

Rod Serling was a few decades ahead of his time when he took the budding television medium to an early zenith with The Twilight Zone. Dismissed in its own time by those who could not process the numerous commentaries on ’50s social and political life — a particularly risible interview at the time had Mike Wallace asking Serling, “For the time being and for the foreseeable future, you’ve given up on writing anything important for television, right?” — The Twilight Zone is today rightly heralded as a masterpiece of programming. Image Entertainment has set out to honor the show’s legacy, and they’ve succeeded beyond doubt with this set. The remastered A/V quality astounds for a 50-year-old series recorded on old T.V stock, but the extras, oh Lord, the extras. The only reason this is just in ninth place is because I haven’t yet had the time to go through them all. Commentaries of 19 of the season’s 36 episodes, the unaired pilot, the unaired unofficial pilot, interviews, radio dramas inspired by the series, lectures by Serling at Sherwood Oaks College. It is an absurdly bountiful package, and I assume the same is true of the recently released second season, which I have not yet bought. The show is a seminal piece of pop culture history, it now looks as if it had just been made, and the extras are voluminous and (at least of the ones I’ve gone through so far) highly rewarding. What more must you know?

10. The White Ribbon (Sony)

A personal choice, perhaps, but I continue to be struck by the perfection of Sony’s transfer of The White Ribbon, one of the most gorgeous films in years. Unlike the other choices on this list, all of which came out before I was born or when I was too young to go see them in a theater or at least retain the experience, I had the luxury of catching The White Ribbon in theaters. Take it from me: the Blu-Ray puts the film on the small-screen without error, completely capturing the texture of its old-school film. Extras may be on the slim side, but this is a film that should seep into your mind without the director standing five feet away informing you of the themes as soon as you finish. For all its beauty, this is not an easy film to watch, but Sony have made things as gentle on your eyes as possible, so give this haunting allegory for the rise of Nazism if you have the fortitude to stand it.

Best DVD-only releases:

Rossellini War Trilogy (Criterion)

Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy truly changed the face of film forever, exploding Italy’s nascent neorealist scene into international acclaim. Viewed today, the film that started it all (Rome, Open City) looks remarkably melodramatic, but its spiritual sequels — Paisan and Germany Year Zero are uncompromising and scathingly political in a country that would probably best be served by just keeping quiet and saying only “Thank you, sir, may I have another?” to anyone that paid them attention. Criterion gives these films strong transfers despite the limitations of the grainy, cheap stock used to record them, elegantly preserving some of the most important movies of all time.

The Larry Sanders Show: The Complete Series (Shout! Factory)

While Seinfeld may deservedly command reverence among comedy acolytes for its depiction of “a show about nothing,” for my money it will always live in the shadow of Garry Shandling, whose metacomedic It’s Garry Shandling’s Show subverted conventions far more than a lackadaisically plotted tour of Manhattan. But Shandling’s greatest achievement was a six-season sitcom on HBO that received copious praise but little in the way of commercial attention. Based on the fallout from the Tonight Show handover — with which Shandling, considered to take Letterman’s vacant spot at Late Night when Dave jumped to CBS — The Larry Sanders Show peeled back the veneer of late night, exposing the greasy sheen and phony interest that Johnny Carson could make genuine and inviting but everyone else could not contain. I had previously been acquainted with the show by its first season the only one released by Sony all the way back in 2002, and I was struck immediately by its pitch-black tone of voice, a relentless discomfort that would go on to influence most of the best comedy of the new millennium (Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant cited it as a major influence for The Office). Having just gotten it for Christmas, I’ve only just started to work through the other seasons, but taking that and the abysmal video quality of the low-budget show into account, I feel no qualms calling this essential. I’ve heard that the show maintained its quality throughout, but even a dip couldn’t kill the power of its early seasons. A buried classic is finally unearthed.

Best Music DVD:

The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story

Bruce Springsteen intended to give 30th anniversary reissues to his classic albums – which is a redundancy on my part, as they’re all classics – but he never made it to the second reissue without problems. Two years late, the anniversary edition of Darkness on the Edge of Town makes up for the setback by blowing the impressive Born to Run package out of the water. The box set offers a remastered album and a two-CD set of songs that were left off the meticulously planned final cut of Darkness — and these 21 songs are but a fraction of the nearly 70 Springsteen wrote during the legal duress that kept him from recording after Born to Run, some of which would make his release The River while others remain in the vaults or nothing more than notebook scribblings. But the three DVDs are the chief draw. One features a making-of documentary for the album with background info on the legal troubles and a self-critical eye toward the writing and recording of ten perfectly chosen songs. The second disc features the album played in its entirety last year, while the third unloads a previously unseen film of one of the Boss’ legendary Darkness tour shows in Houston. While I wish he’d remastered the Dec. 20 show in Seattle, a bootleg I hold so dear I would actually trade the memory of concerts I’ve attended just for high-quality audio of this performance, I think it’s admirable Springsteen would acknowledge the efforts of bootleggers to put out material from that tour and give them something new. Bruce Springsteen is simply the most dynamic white man to perform rock ‘n roll, and he never topped the energy and force of his ’78 tour. To have an official release finally documented it is a joy, and the other five discs included – to say nothing of the impressive packaging – are delightful extras compared to it.

– Jake Cole is a journalism student at Auburn University, where he regularly avoids people in favor of writing about film, television and music on his blog, Not Just Movies. Where he gets the nerve (or the money) to get and review all these Blu-Rays is anyone’s guess. After all, he’s too fat to be a thief. The mystery continues.

December 28, 2010
Review: APOCALYPSE NOW
Apocalypse Now

When a worried Francis Ford Coppola walked out of a rapturous reception of Apocalypse Now at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival, his fears turned to confidence, and the press conference he gave summarized both the film’s troubled production and the hallucinatory, exhilarating and terrifying effect of the final product with a single sentence that no critic has ever topped.

“My film isn’t about Vietnam, it is Vietnam.”

Thirty years on, Apocalypse Now continues to stand as the ultimate cinematic statement on the Vietnam War, a position largely unchallenged even in the face of such classics as Platoon and Full Metal Jacket.

Coppola’s line is true, but not in a literal means. Of the various Vietnam films, Apocalypse Now possibly has the least ties to the reality of the war. Christ, it has the least ties to reality, period. But it is Vietnam, capturing the madness, pointlessness, fear and the death of America’s sense of superiority that makes it our most embarrassing period in the public consciousness – more people are willing to talk about it as our most humbling moment and not slavery or the genocide of Native Americans.

Loosely adapted from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Coppola’s magnum opus unfolds in an episodic fashion, each vignette shot with its own color palette and sound design. It’s a subjective overload, from the exhilarating “Ride of the Valkyries” segment shot from the POV of the arrogant, jingoistic Air Cavalry division to the gaudy sleaze that oozes off the screen when a bunch of sex-starved GIs riot in the presence of a tacky, inane show from some Playboy Playmates.

At a certain point, the film travels into the far-out realm of druggy excess, no doubt a byproduct of the splintering sanity on-set but also a naturally unnatural progression from the events of the rest of the film. The humming and churning Moog score contrasts sharply with Coppola’s usual love of opera, and its perfect integration into the mix (courtesy of master editor Walter Murch, who has as much a right to call Apocalypse Now) his film as Coppola) keep the audience on edge, and the increasingly surreal imagery delves further and further into the soul of madness.

What is most interesting about Apocalypse Now is how indirectly it actually deals with Vietnam. It doesn’t even care about the Vietnamese, not in the racist way that The Deer Hunter sets up the Viet Cong as a vague demon that weighs over the psyches of the hearty American men sent to fight them. No, Coppola, surprisingly working with a script the ultra-conservative John Milius (he of Red Dawn fame), paints the war as the result of insane mismanagement by a command structure that kept pressing on for no reason.

Capt. Willard (Martin Sheen) is sent on a top-secret mission not to kill any enemy leader but a renegade American colonel, a decorated vet who went mad in the jungle even as he started fighting the war in a way that got results standard operating procedures could not create. There is an air of jealousy in the chain of command that sends Willard on his mission, correctly calling Kurtz insane but doing so more because he flaunts their authority.

Elsewhere, visions of America’s aimlessness rise to the surface. The Air Cav colonel, Kilgore (Robert Duvall), orders an attack on a Vietcong stronghold simply because the areas has good waves and he loves to surf. In the film’s most hallucinatory segment, Willard and the boat crew that ferries him come across a bridge that the VC blow up each night and the Americans rebuild in the morning just so they can defend it again. With all commanding officers in the area dead, the line deteriorates, and one sees how Kurtz’s brutal methods could attract those who see the old system failing in front of them.

Coppola ignited a minor controversy at the film’s Cannes premiere when he said he wasn’t sure about the ending. Though he never referred to anything more than a few minor alterations he considered in the editing bay, it must be said that the one aspect of Apocalypse Now that lacks is the final moments. Yet the ambiguity, even the defeatism of Willard’s quiet withdrawal from the Kurtz compound also carries a powerful weight to it, the act that proves Willard is no longer tied to either Kurtz’s seductive methods (which would have had him assuming leadership over the native army Kurtz assembled) nor the old power structure (which would have had him bombing the compound into oblivion). As roughly as Coppola arrives at the moment, it serves its purpose: to break us from this nightmare in such a way that we wake up but cannot shake the fear. He denies us a catharsis, even with that brilliantly edited montage of Willard/Kurtz and the sacrificial bull. Were the ending more memorable, it might let us dispense of everything and move on. Instead, Apocalypse Now sits with you for years, the safest kind of shellshock one can suffer.

Blu-Ray

Lions Gate Entertainment has released Apocalypse Now on Blu-Ray in two separate editions: a two-disc set that contains both the 1979 theatrical and 2001 “Redux” version of the film and a slew of extras. The 3-disc “Full Disclosure Edition,” however, is what you want. In addition to the two cuts and the extras, you get an HD version of Hearts of Darkness, the full-length documentary shot by Coppola’s wife Eleanor. What originally started as a means of gathering the usual EPK material blossomed into a horrifying look at the dying moments of New Hollywood as production spiraled out of control, Francis Ford Coppola started to fall apart and Martin Sheen suffered a heart attack. Along with Les Blank’s Burdern of Dreams, a look at Werner Herzog’s equally demanding jungle feature Fitzcarraldo, Hearts of Darkness stands as the definitive making-of documentary, a testament to the film’s insanity and the impressive way Coppola made the production work even when a typhoon obliterated all the sets.

The question typically arises with the film: which cut is better? The “Redux” version, running about 50 minutes longer, contains mostly elongated looks at existing scenes. It draws out a number of fascinating commentaries on the war, extending the end of the “Charlie don’t surf” sequence to show that the napalming of the tree line that Kilgore orders to make it safe to surf ends up sucking up all the wind and calming the water. It’s the best metaphor in the film and it’s a shame Coppola cut it from the original version. Likewise, the notorious French plantation scene, which makes up a bulk of the added footage, gets to the heart of the difference between the colonialist French and the Americans. A handful of French settlers defend a plantation because it is their home, even if they understand they will die there and it will rightfully be retaken by the Vietnamese. But why are the Americans here? “You are fighting for the biggest nothing in history.”

Were the French plantation scene boiled down to that essence, and maybe the provocative but overly joking second interlude with the Playmates, removed, I would call “Redux” the superior version. It’s still one of the greatest alternate cuts ever made, and the additions are direct without being forced (I especially like Kurtz reading a pre-Tet Offensive piece from Time magazine, mocking the media’s inability to expose the pointlessness of the war, allowing themselves to be controlled by the state). Ultimately, though, I prefer the more oneiric, hallucinogenic tone of the theatrical cut, which omits a few of the added sequences I love as much as anything in both cuts but also has a better flow and leaves more to interpretation. Either way, both cuts are masterpieces of the first order and proof that big-budget entertainment can be as beautiful and thought-provoking as underground cinema.

Image/Sound Quality

Francis Ford Coppola has overseen all of the Blu-Ray transfers done for his films – though he must have slept through the Dracula remaster – and the results here are as sterling as his magnificent Godfather restoration. Apocalypse Now‘s 1080p image, presented in the proper 2:35:1 aspect ratio (previous editions came in 2.0:1), cannot fully overcome the limitations of late-’70s color film stock (which was of such infamously low quality Martin Scorsese made Raging Bull in black-and-white partly so he knew it would last). But the work done here has turned the softness of the stock into crisp depth and texture. There is an inconsistency to the image because of the various lighting, color and shooting methods employed for each segment of the film, but in some moments you can count the beads of sweat on Martin Sheen’s face. The black levels have never looked better, and the grain is well preserved. I saw a few tiny scratches near the end, but they were harder to spot than the pops in the latest films I see in the theater. This is a remarkable job and one of the most impressive transfers of the year, bar none.

As for the audio, imagine the same level of care done on the video, without the setback of the dated source material. Apocalypse Now‘s DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 is going in my book as one of the first tracks I will use to test out any new home audio system. Coppola’s film along with Star Wars, pioneered the 5.1 sound mix, and it’s nice that the track that started it all has been treated so lovingly. The subtleties of Walter Murch’s editing are brought out in the very first moments, while Carmine Coppola’s Komita-inspired score is enhanced through the fantastic low-frequency levels. I must admit that audio is the area I am least qualified to speak upon when it comes to these things – which is saying something, because I’m qualified for sweet F-A – but tracks like these, man they do the work for you. The video borders on reference quality in general and certainly stands as one of the best remasters done to date, but the audio is the best I’ve heard all year, even above Criterion’s masterful work with The Thin Red Line‘s soundtrack.

Extras

Oh dear God, where to start. I am confident now in saying that the only Blu-Ray release this year that will best the treasure trove offered here will be the Alien anthology due at the end of the month. It’s not often you get truth in advertising, but when they said “Full Disclosure Edition,” they damn sure meant it.

Disc One

Audio commentary for both cuts: Francis Ford Coppola offers some of the best commentary you’ll ever hear, and the rich production history and thematic interpretations of Apocalypse Now afford him more topics of conversation than any of his other works. He offers technical info, anecdotes, unlikely inspirations and all kinds of tidbits that make his discussion as interesting at times as the film itself. The two tracks are clearly taken from the same recording, with the “Redux”-specific comments inserted in with the same seamless branching that the film uses.

Disc Two

As far as I can tell, all of the extras placed in the previous “Complete Dossier” DVD have been ported over. These include:
- Additional scenes
- “Monkey Sampan” deleted scene: Separate from the additional scenes, this rough cut of a disturbing scene was correctly described as the film in a few minutes. The PBR rides by an abandoned Vietnamese fishing boat overrun with monkeys, only for the wind to shift the sail and reveal a man flayed to death. The boat is floating downstream from where Willard and the crew are heading. It’s redundant, but I wish it had made the final cut.
- The Hollow Men: A clip of Marlon Brando reciting T.S. Eliot’s poem with scenes from the film and production interspersed into the video.
- The Birth of 5.1 Sound: A short piece that traces the prototypical stereo design on Star Wars to the breakthrough of Apocaylpse Now
- Ghost Helicopter Flyover: A focused look at Walter Murch’s sound design for the perfectly edited sound of choppers in the opening montage of the film
- The Synthesizer Soundtrack<.i>: A reprint of Bob Moog’s essay from Contemporary Keyboard about the film’s score.
- A Million Feer of Film: The Editing of ‘Apocalypse Now’: A 17-minute piece on the Herculean task Walter Murch and his team faced having to edit a film that had a shooting schedule that lasted four times longer than it was meant to.
- Heard Any Good Movies Lately? The Sound Design of ‘Apocalypse Now’: A more in-depth look at the sound design of the movie that deepens the look of the other audio-centric features.
- The Final Mix: A brief piece on throwing together the sound into the final mix and what was involved in bringing together all the disparate elements.
- Apocalypse Then and Now: A piece made to go with the release of “Redux” to talk about some of the differences between cuts and reasons for the new edit.
- PBR Streetgang: Features interviews in 2001 of the actors who played the PBR crew
- The Color Palette of ‘Apocalypse Now’: A 4-minute look at the three-strip dye transfer techniques used to get the complex color palettes on the film.
That is an impressive list, but wait, there’s new stuff.

An Interview with John Milius: A 50-minute feature that has Coppola talking with the film’s writer about Milius’ youthful ambition to adapt Joseph Conrad and his military aspirations.
A Conversation with Martin Sheen: A one-hour chat between Coppola and his star. The two meet as old friends who haven’t seen each other in years but still have nothing but affection for each other. They laugh at the horrors of the production like legitimate war veterans who can only look back on what they shared and chuckle.
Fred Roos: Casting Apocalypse: The film’s casting director talks about how the actors were chosen. Includes screen test footage of the actors who got the parts, as well as test footage for other auditions (look out for a young Nick Nolte).
Mercury Theater Production of ‘Heart of Darkness’: A week after his infamous “War of the Worlds” broadcast, Orson Welles put on a version of Joseph Conrad’s novella. The audio is damaged, but it’s nice that the cinephile Coppola remembered to put in something for Welles, who wanted so desperately to make his own Conrad adaptation for film.
2001 Cannes Film Festival: Francis Ford Coppola: Recorded when Coppola came to Cannes to screen the Redux version out of competition. Contains the entire 40-minute interview with Roger Ebert, who is a fantastic questioner, asking his piece and letting the subject speak without interruption.

Disc Three

Hearts of Darkness arrives in a 1.33:1-framed, 1080p master with DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0. Also included is the commentary by Francis and Eleanor Coppola that offers as much insight as the documentary itself.

Also included are script selections with notes by Francis Ford Coppola, a storyboard gallery, a photo archive and a marketing archive, which included the original trailer, radio spots, the theatrical program handed out in lieu of opening and closing credits, lobby cards and press kit photos. To round it all out, there’s also a poster gallery.

Final Thoughts

Apocalypse Now is one of the few films that links the various kinds of filmgoers, from the casual fan looking for an escape to the deeply committed cinephile, and it has never looked or sounded better. I was disappointed with the so-called “Complete Dossier” DVD for leaving out the greatest extra — Hearts of Darkness — but this Full Disclosure Edition includes not only that but some exciting new extras.

I could name on one hand the number of home releases this year that even approach the level of this Blu-Ray release. I could probably still do so if you cut off two of my fingers. The work Coppola has done with his Blu-Rays is a key demonstration of his love of cinema and his appreciation of tools that make cinephilia easier. With the work he’s done here, he’s surely guaranteed himself yet another generation of devoted fans. If you have to, sell blood to get this Blu-Ray set.

– Jake Cole is a journalism student at Auburn University, where he regularly avoids people in favor of writing about film, television and music on his blog, Not Just Movies. When he is not writing movie reviews, he is inevitably writing something else and will continue to do so until he runs out of excuses not to go outside.
October 21, 2010

Tag: apocalypse now

Best Blu-Rays of 2010

Review: APOCALYPSE NOW