The Last Candle

Busy season is tough enough without my daily tools going pear-shaped on me:

Really now? My grievance that elicited this opaque error: copying a smallish bitmap into a document. And what am I supposed to do after saving? Close the document and never edit it again?

In contrast, my other big Microsoft tool, Visual Studio, is amazingly robust and usable for hours and hours, and I really enjoy working with it. But, man, Word is not a pretty thing most of the time.

In the later half of the 90’s I took part in this burgeoning so-called World Wide Web by creating and managing a fan site for the vehicular combat video game series Twisted Metal. The site was stored at Geocities, the inarguable hosting giant of the time, and stayed put on a stretch of land in the TimesSquare/Arcade district for over ten years.

But last Monday, parent company Yahoo! swept an arm across the ‘Cities property and cleared a thousand crude communities from the face of the Internet, including my site, that first easily-forgotten foray of mine into web development. But for reasons of nostalgia and a touch of masochism, I grabbed a copy of my ol’ site from Yahoo!’s clutches before the couple rusty Geocities servers were isolated from the niche market of web surfers who still pined for the days of when the web was simple, static, and almost completely ugly.

For my part during dawn on the Web, visitors to my simple, static and ugly Twisted Metal-focused portal were greeted by the following splash page entrance:

Splash pages as an entrance to a web site are frowned upon these days, although artist portfolios and upscale furniture stores usually can get by without anyone complaining. But back in the late 90’s, the splash page was a throw-down introduction and on the cutting edge of site presentation. Match a splash page with a few blink and marquee tags — also on the cutting edge of web development at the time — and your site counter was almost guaranteed to click through at least twenty hits a day. That’s juice.

The site provided screenshots, news, clever commentary, and, of course, cheat codes, as well as insider tips announcing that foreign fascists had infiltrated our domestic game studios:

When the site was abandoned in early 1999, shortly before before I struck out in the world to make a mint on the stock market or develop a new type of biodegradable shopping bag or something similarly important, the site focused on the recent release of Twisted Metal 3. But ever the careful webmaster, I didn’t let the previous games in the series fall out of the public view and continued to praise their contribution to the now-popular exploding cars and vehicular manslaughter genre. Even when compared to site documents that focused on more recent titles, the Twisted Metal 2-focused pages delivered the same forceful, intense aesthetic design and high quality content expected of the site:

That title graphic is rad: blood-weeping bullet holes, a lens flare blaring out from a skull’s barren eye socket (yes, that is a big stupid skull in the image’s background), and a prominent application of the blue-and-gold “chrome” paint gradient. I actually was pretty proud of the work at the time, but looking at it again, the chrome is a touch gratuitous. Maybe.

I’d like to think my Twisted Metal site accrued a hundred-thousand hits and served the audience of the fine vehicular combat series for many happy years. Of course, I’ll never know about those hits since my free counter died years ago — overflow because of exceptionally high numbers perhaps? — but the site is now part of my archives, to be enjoyed whenever I please. Maybe I’ll even pop one of the old games in my original PlayStation and relive those simpler times.

On second thought, looking back at those screenshots, I’ll keep those memories and the games at arm’s length.

Nonetheless, over ten years later, I am here.

I don’t expect a lot out of power metal, but I love it: fleet-fingered technical proficiency, the requisite guitar-keyboard dueling, soaring high-register vocals, swords-and-sorcery concepts, juvenile lyrics, and enough hooks and melodies for a half-dozen pop songs. Power metal is not interesting, but it is completely awesome.

Once in a while a power metal band grows a brain and changes the time signature for a few bars, dumps the keyboard for a glockenspiel, drops the frenetic double-bass drumming or guitar solos for long atmospheric bridges and 10-minute compositions, or cans the unicorn fantasies to delve into concepts about society, politics or theories of existentialism. This is called going prog, and the change is generally a beautiful thing.

But sometimes the change doesn’t work out so well. Take the following two clips from a band I’ve followed and enjoyed for nearly ten years, Sonata Arctica. Sonata Arctica’s second album, Silence (2001), contained a song called Wolf & Raven that has not only been a personal favorite since then but is an excellent example of the genre as a whole.

So I was excited to find recently that a 2008 re-release of Silence featured a “remake” of Wolf & Raven. Excellent. Going into the song, I expected them to have tightened up the sound, punched up the concept through orchestral and more complex arrangements, and expanded the song while keeping the same frenetic energy of the original track.

See for yourself — here’s a clip of the Wolf & Raven remake. I’m playing the 2008 version first because it’s, well, the underwhelming of the two versions. Both versions use the same lyrics stanzas to make the difference more clear, although the change couldn’t be more obvious as-is.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Melodic and swooning, which is 50% of the power metal world. But this low-tempo ballad is also unusually pompous and forsakes none of the standard drumming, guitar or keyboard melodies of any kind, as if the remake was just a resume for Tony Kakko, the band’s lead singer, songwriter and part-time keyboardist. It has no lift, no energy.

The “remake” part could have been been “demo” and that would’ve made a lot more sense, especially after exhibiting this next clip of the 2001 original. Turn your speakers up (or down, if you’re not so much into the metal thing).

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Now that’s what I call power metal: fast, fiery, and totally ridiculous. The 2008 remake is has little power and certainly isn’t metal, so I don’t know what it is. Dramatic, definitely. Foppish, maybe. But it isn’t metal, although it’s still not bad. At least the band kept the high-register vocals and orchestral arrangements.

Sonata Arctica released a new album just a couple weeks ago, with Flag in the Ground being the new single. I’ve given it some playtime: solid album, but a new Porcupine Tree album was released a week prior to Arctica’s The Days of Grays. And the Tree cannot be out-progged.

Noby Noby Boy is better seen and not explained, so I’ll just say that the following recording is entirely my doing. Enjoy. No prizes to anyone who watches the entire show.

Hmm. Maybe Noby Noby Boy is best just played and not even recorded.

In recent months and years I’ve become an unabashed patron of Criterion and its Collection, “a continuing series of important classic and contemporary films.” In the United States, no distributor comes close to offering the quality and large breadth of releases provided by the American company. (Elsewhere, in the UK, Masters of Cinema Series of DVDs is very similar to the Criterion Collection.) In today’s world, a release by Criterion is very likely the best a movie fan or collector will ever get.

But let’s imagine a sad world, a lesser world — a world without Criterion. What’s a film snob to do? Watch fewer movies, probably. But we’d also have to put up with sub-standard, even offensive released of famous and classic movies.

Take this next release, for example, which is an honest-to-Abe DVD and VHS release of a real movie.

Yikes.

If you can get past the extremely gaudy color arrangement, the faked pin-up blonde, accentuated by the Cinema Sirens title and leopard-skin backdrop, and the misspelling of “psychological,” your eyes will eventually find the film’s title, Catherine Deneuve. In the upper left corner of the ugly yellow field is a single word to describe the film: “Repulsion.” Strange are the ways of the marketing department that chooses to describe the film’s obvious main character with such an ugly term, and also strange that the film’s creator, the well-known Roman Polanski, known for careful and somewhat austere productions, would create such a unsightly and tacky production.

Actually, wait. I’ve got that all wrong: The film isn’t called Catherine Deneuve: it’s Repulsion. Deneuve plays the lead. (Actress Yvonne Furneaux does play a supporting role, so the cover is not entirely misleading.)

Speaking of the lead, contrary to the implication of the Cinema Sirens art, Deneuve’s character doesn’t prance around in a pink spotted bathing suit, bad low-cut bob above her shoulders and a matching pink scarf in tow. Here’s an actual screengrab of Deneuvue’s character, Carol, from Repulsion:

That shot alone would have made a better cover for the film. After all, the expression on Carol’s face much better represents the film’s plot, tone, style and narrative: a stark, black and white psychological thriller about a young woman who is losing her grip on reality, told from the point of view of the woman, hallucinations and all. Pink bathing suit not included.

Clearly the Cinema Sirens release fails at advertising the actual content of the movie, let alone giving it respect. Fortunately, Criterion recently released Repulsion under their guidance. Here’s the art created for the new release:

Night and day. Scroll back up to the Cinema Sirens release and wonder how on earth these two covers can even represent the same movie.

On the other hand, the cover art is hardly indicative of the film’s actual presentation — the presentation of the film’s video and audio, as close to the crew’s intention (original or revised) as it can be, is most important of all. Sure, Cinema Sirens’ covers might be horribly off the mark, but who cares as long as the transfer is scratch-free? Is a world without Criterion a world with bad disc enclosures but otherwise fine film-watching?

No. Take Kurosawa’s Ran, for example, which has seen three different distributors in the last decade: Fox Lorber, Wellspring Media, who released it under a “Masterworks Edition” label, and finally Criterion.

Fox Lorber cropped the film from 1.85:1 to roughly 2.35:1, burned the subtitles onto the video itself, and provided a completely awful picture[^1] (also see the one example of this edition at the UK’s DVD Times review[^2]).

The Masterworks Edition also cropped the film, but blew it up to full-frame, cutting off the edges[^3], used a de-noising filter on the transfer, which blurred the picture and ruined details[^4], and punched out the colors and contrast. The Masterworks Edition is also known to having making spelling mistakes in the subtitles. (Some debate on the quality of the Masterworks Edition exists[^5]. Although I haven’t seen the Masterworks Edition myself to account for its quality, these latter reviewers are in the much lesser minority of observers.)

Criterion finally provided fans with an excellent release of Ran in 2005, but in nothing less than a disaster, the company actually lost the rights earlier this year, even as a Blu-ray release was weeks away. Ran, widely considered one of the many masterpieces by the great Japanese auteur Kurosawa, might be subjected to yet another dismal release.

Most home releases are not as bad as the provided example, but they offer a look into the landscape of a cold, hard world without a respectable distributor. Some hope does exist, maybe: if Criterion did disappear, I do have some love for a VHS of John Woo’s Hard Boiled that was released by none other than Fox Lorber — or I did love it, until the tape was ruined by a VCR that was consequently sent to the garbage dump. A little respect towards great movies is not too much to ask.

---

Repulsion at Criterion. Trailer included.

The Masters of Cinema Series of DVDs, a side project of the Masters of Cinema.

Cinema Sirens on the web. Quite a collection.

---

[^1]: DVD Talk’s Ran Fox Lorber review

[^2]: DVD Times’ review of the Masterworks Edition of Ran. Includes a screengrab of the miserable and pathetic Fox Lorber release.

[^3]: Yunda Eddie Feng’s Ran Masterworks Edition review at DVD Town (video details on page two)

[^4]: Ben Rudiak-Gould’s Ran Masterworks Edition review at Amazon

[^5]: DVD Talk’s review of the Masterworks Edition of Ran