AuteursDVDMoviesSome Came Running by Glenn Kenny

"The Black Book" versus "Reign of Terror"

By February 20, 2012January 12th, 202617 Comments

Who says this blog is afraid to answer the tough ques­tions, to boldly tackle the really burn­ing issues of the day?

To wit: Given that VCI Entertainment issued a not-all-that bad DVD ver­sion of Anthony Mann’s delight­ful French Revolution pop-noir 1948 Reign of Terror AKA The Black Book, is the new ver­sion of the Mann film recently released by the burn-on-demand Sony sub­si­di­ary Columbia Classics worth a look, let alone an invest­ment of 20 bucks or thereabouts?

Well, we’ve delved into the ques­tion and the answer is, HELL YEAH.

The rel­at­ive enthu­si­asm with which the VCI release was met with beck in 2008 was of course rel­at­ive to the fact that pri­or video iter­a­tions of the film looked like sock pup­pet theat­er, on account of their being quasi-bootlegs of the title which had fallen into the slough of des­pond known as pub­lic domain. The VCI ver­sion was made from undeni­ably soft mater­i­als, but trans­ferred with care. If the mag­ni­fi­cent chiaroscuros con­cocted by Mann and his most cru­cial col­lab­or­at­or, cine­ma­to­graph­er John Alton, were clearly not all that they could be, well, they were enough to extra­pol­ate from. Given the state of affairs con­cern­ing the film’s proven­ance and such, DVD Beaver review­ers Gregory Meshman and Gary W. Tooze said of the release, “This may be as good as it gets.”

This was of course before the burn-on-demand DVD mar­ket­ing scheme got going. My sus­pi­cion is that some cinephile at Sony knew that the stu­dio had some very super­i­or mater­i­als in the vault, and that the only way to get them released would be through just such a cor­por­ate side­bar as was pion­eered by the Warner Archive. Alas, Jeanine Basinger’s oth­er­wise quite thor­ough Mann bio­graphy does­n’t go into how Reign of Terror got its name changed to The Black Book, but I sus­pect it was retitled after the inde­pend­ent low-budget pro­duc­tion was picked up for dis­tri­bu­tion by Columbia.

In any event, the dif­fer­ence between the VCI Reign and the Columbia Classics Book is stark from the very open­ing mont­age, includ­ing this intro­duct­ory shot of Richard Basehart’s “Don’t call me Max” Robespierre. The VCI ver­sion is the first, the Sony the second. 

Max VCI

VCI.

Max Sony

Sony.

The extent to which the mater­i­als used for the VCI edi­tion are washed out is extremely evid­ent in the flames, and behind the flames. The level of rel­at­ive detail is plainly dis­cern­able in details such as Basehart’s teeth.

As for the light and shadow—and most import­antly, dark­ness, Alton’s stock-in-trade and likely a great influ­ence on the future work of Gordon Willis—well, see these screen caps from a slightly later scene show­ing the first secret meet­ing between the char­ac­ters played by Robert Cummings and Arlene Dahl:

BB Shadow VCI

VCI.

BB shadow Sony

Sony.

The movie rep­res­ents a total tri­umph of form over content—or, per­haps, form over lack of con­tent,” Basinger notes. It’s impossible, really, to fully appre­ci­ate the form unless it’s presen­ted faith­fully, or well, or whatever your pre­ferred term. Though the Columbia Classics disc is a DVR, it’s made from a mighty fine mas­ter. I can just ima­gine what kind of a Blu-ray the mater­i­als might yield, and I bet I’m GONNA have to ima­gine that for the forsee­able future. Am I gonna toss my VCI disc? No, because it also con­tains a good ver­sion of ANOTHER Alton-shot (albeit not Mann-directed) genre pic­ture, The Amazing Mr. X, star­ring Turhan Bey, WTFIU, and because the Reign present­a­tion also has a good and inform­at­ive audio com­ment­ary by Alan Rode, who’s joined by Arlene Dahl. (Hmm. I for­get wheth­er that com­ment­ary goes into the spe­cif­ics of the name switch, but nev­er mind.) But when I just want to watch Mann’s film—and I’ll prob­ably want to at least every oth­er Bastille Day or so—the Columbia Classics one, which you can indeed buy through the Warner Archive or through ClassicFlix and no doubt oth­er out­lets, is the one I’ll pop into the player. 

17 Comments

  • ZS says:

    Oh man. I’m so order­ing. Thanks for the heads up!

  • Keep the VCI disc…but know that the Sony line also includes an equally fine trans­fer of THE SPIRITUALIST, aka THE AMAZING MR. X. Out anoth­er $20 (but some­times the Warner Archive prices the Sony discs it car­ries at $15).

  • Peteski says:

    Thanks.

  • partisan says:

    Those can­’t be Ventian blinds in 1794?

  • Whatever ver­sion you get your hands on don’t miss this. Basehart is won­der­ful here and so is the fab­ulous Norman Lloyd who as he edges toward the cen­tury mark is still work­ing and still wonderful.
    And still play­ing ten­nis every day!

  • Christopher says:

    Only February, but “the slough of des­pond known as pub­lic domain” is run­ning away with Best-turned Phrase of the Year.
    Haven’t yet pulled the trig­ger on a MOD disc, but per­haps this will do it. Thanks for the recommendation!

  • jbryant says:

    For my money, the best per­form­ance is giv­en by Arnold Moss as Fouche.

  • Oliver_C says:

    As admir­ably thor­ough as your Blu-ray roundups are, don’t DVD-only MOD releases such as these – not to men­tion the Eclipse sets, the BFI’s ‘The Devils’ and early Ozu boxes, Errol Morris’ ‘Tabloid’, etc – jus­ti­fy an occa­sion­al DVD column?

  • Todd says:

    I went with this burn-on DVD route both with “Devil’s Doorway” and “Chimes at Midnight” and both trans­fers were as crisp as any­thing I had seen before.
    The only down­side is that both of these discs do have a some­what unpleas­ant odor upon open­ing the case.

  • Monica says:

    Wow, I was won­der­ing if the new Warner Archive release was worth order­ing if I already had the VCI DVD, and here you are: the answer to my pray­ers. Thanks a lot for the heads up. I’m order­ing right now.
    Monica

  • Tom Block says:

    >For my money, the best per­form­ance is giv­en by Arnold Moss as Fouche.
    Seconded. He’s Calleia-in-“Touch of Evil” good…

  • Robert Sweeney says:

    Todd, who is offer­ing CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT as a burn-on-demand disc?

  • jbryant says:

    I knew next to noth­ing about Arnold Moss before see­ing this movie; since then, I’ve enjoyed him in Mann’s BORDER INCIDENT, and just last week I caught him in an epis­ode of “The Alfred Hitchcock Hour” with James Mason. He was also in an epis­ode of “Star Trek” and co-starred in the ori­gin­al Broadway pro­duc­tion of Sondheim’s “Follies.” His son Jeff was the ori­gin­al head writer for “Sesame Street” and wrote many of the shows sig­na­ture songs, includ­ing the hit “Rubber Ducky.” Gotta love show biz.

  • Bruce Reid says:

    The movie rep­res­ents a total tri­umph of form over content—or, per­haps, form over lack of content,”
    I’ve not read the Basinger, but would­n’t fram­ing such epochal his­tory as just anoth­er grubby tale of dark men hid­ing in shad­ows count as con­tent? Or is that what she meant by a tri­umph of form?
    This film con­tains what’s prob­ably the most shock­ing cine­mat­ic moment I’ve ever seen. Most everything lead­ing up to it is nearly as good.

  • Bryan S. says:

    You’re ignor­ing the most import­ant dif­fer­ence: the VCI disc was from a cen­sored print. The Sony MOD is com­pletely uncut.
    This was pur­portedly the film the com­pelled Dore Schary to sign Mann (and Alton) to MGM, as he was bowled over by it. Later, he prac­tic­ally had Mann “remake” it, as “The Tall Target”, giv­ing the same treat­ment to the Baltimore Plot as he did to the Reign of Terror.
    Columbia also put out a super­i­or ver­sion of “The Amazing Mr. X” under the title “The Spiritualist” (anoth­er mys­ter­i­ous title change), com­pletely elim­in­at­ing the print dam­age that was in the VCI. I like VCI, and they have my admir­a­tion for giv­ing these films the treat­ment they deserved at a time no one else would, but this is one occa­sion where you can feel free to unload the ori­gin­al release.