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"The Black Book" versus "Reign of Terror"

By February 20, 2012No 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. 

No 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.