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a stunning achievement, marred only by the overambitious impulse that led Altman to try to juggle nine stories instead of, say, six
And the characters? The guys from the fishing trip turn up on the lunch counter stools at Doreen's restaurant, Doreen ends up driving the car that hits that little boy, the phone sex lady ends up being married to one of the guys who pursues the twentysomething girls in the mountains, one of those guys ends up being the pool cleaner for the parents of the eight year old boy, and the rest of the characters similarly intertwine in ways that feel more stylized than forced. Altman manages to juggle the plots effectively until the end, when he loses touch with Carver's world and brings on an ending better suited for a disaster flick.
Video:
"Short Cuts" is presented in color from a new, restored high-definition digital transfer that was approved by the director, preserving the 2.35:1 aspect ratio of the theatrical release. And the picture quality is stunning. It doesn't take long to see that, because the helicopters lit at night as they make their choreographed run to drop pesticides is so clear and sharp that they
could pass for digital images. That quality persists throughout the film, no matter what the lighting or whether the camera pans or zooms in for tight close-ups.
Audio:
There are two audio options. The Dolby Digital 5.1 option is a 6-track mix from the 70mm theatrical release, while the Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo soundtrack is a 2-track mix from the 35mm theatrical release. There's also an isolated music soundtrack, and you can switch from option to option by pressing the audio button on your remote. The 6-track mix is bright and vibrant, something you can hear especially when the horns play in the jazz band, but the 2-track mix is also decent if your equipment is better suited to that option.
Extras:
Criterion is known for putting together bulging packages of extras, and this one caters to literature lovers. A special book featuring all the stories and the poem that inspired the film accompanies this two-disc set, and I heartily recommend that you read the stories before you see the film. It makes Altman's "weave" of plots and characters much more fun to watch. Altman provides an extended introduction to the stories, in which he talks about the relationship between the film and Carver's fiction.
There's a complete 1983 audio interview conducted by Kay Bonetti that covers a wide range of topics, from the autobiographical to the technical, which could only have been better had Criterion provided a better on-screen image of Carver than the artsy menu-screen that remains throughout the discussion. The interview is a real treasure for literature lovers (and teachers who use Ray Carver stories in their classrooms). So is a BBC mini-documentary from the "Moving Pictures" series, which compares elements of "Jerry and Molly and Sam" to the film version and features plenty of interviews. Better still is a documentary on the making of "Short Cuts," which shows Altman and others behind the scenes, and better than that a documentary on Ray Carver made for the Seattle PBS affiliate. This documentary is SO superior to the typical PBS bios that I can't begin to describe the many ways. The talking heads are all people who knew Carver, including his first wife, his mother, his brother-in-law, his editors, and his writer friends, and some of the amazing footage includes clips of Gallagher at the gravesite and at Sky House, where she and Carver wrote, overlooking Puget Sound. There's only one academic, and what makes this documentary click is the spirit of Ray Carver, who remains alive and well in those who knew him and who speak candidly about him—even Carver's mother, who tells how she threw the book across the room when she read what he had to say about her in "Boxes." Writers Tobias Wolff and Ann Beattie provide some of the best insights, as does Carver's writing teacher from Humboldt State, who gives a tour of Carver Country and talks about the real "Chef's House." And Studs Terkel is the voice who reads Carver's poems that provide the narrative for some of the scenes and re-enactments.
There's no commentary, but you know what? Who in his right mind would want a director's commentary attached to a movie that's more than three hours long? Instead, we get an intelligent and informal conversation between two directors—Altman and Robbins—who sit at a bar and have a beer together while reminiscing about the film. It's fascinating to hear them talk. Samples? The kid who got hit by the car was a stunt man's kid, someone who knew how to fall. And Jason Leigh's phone-sex talk was all improv, as was Robbins' attempted pick-up of a woman in clown costume that he stops for an alleged traffic violation. Good stuff here, and they cover more ground than just "Short Cuts."
For an unexpected treat, Dr. John, whose four songs provide the basic soundtrack for the film, can be heard on an audio demo tape playing the piano and singing "To Hell with Love," "I Don't Know You," and "Full Moon."
There are just two deleted scenes and one alternate, all of them short, but the "Hey Clown" clip will leave you laughing. Rounding out the extras is a look at how the film was marketed, and an insert that gives full cast and crew information and provides a contextual essay by Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Wilmington.
In short, wow!
Bottom Line:
Altman crafts a torpid tapestry that's faithful in spirit to the Carver stories, and, by weaving characters in and out of the plots from nine tales, he manages to affirm patterns of behavior that plague them all as much as those nasty medflies. It's a stunning achievement, marred only by the overambitious impulse that led Altman to try to juggle nine stories instead of, say, six, and the Hollywood gene that made him reach into his denim disaster bag near the film's end. And while the mother and daughter musicians he added to the film obviously add musical texture and reinforce the notion of "Short Cuts" playing like a succession of jazz riffs on a Carver melody, the characters themselves aren't as interesting as those that Carver created. That "Short Cuts" is still compelling, despite those flaws, is a tribute to both Carver and Altman.
Video:
"Short Cuts" is presented in color from a new, restored high-definition digital transfer that was approved by the director, preserving the 2.35:1 aspect ratio of the theatrical release. And the picture quality is stunning. It doesn't take long to see that, because the helicopters lit at night as they make their choreographed run to drop pesticides is so clear and sharp that they
could pass for digital images. That quality persists throughout the film, no matter what the lighting or whether the camera pans or zooms in for tight close-ups.
Audio:
There are two audio options. The Dolby Digital 5.1 option is a 6-track mix from the 70mm theatrical release, while the Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo soundtrack is a 2-track mix from the 35mm theatrical release. There's also an isolated music soundtrack, and you can switch from option to option by pressing the audio button on your remote. The 6-track mix is bright and vibrant, something you can hear especially when the horns play in the jazz band, but the 2-track mix is also decent if your equipment is better suited to that option.
Extras:
Criterion is known for putting together bulging packages of extras, and this one caters to literature lovers. A special book featuring all the stories and the poem that inspired the film accompanies this two-disc set, and I heartily recommend that you read the stories before you see the film. It makes Altman's "weave" of plots and characters much more fun to watch. Altman provides an extended introduction to the stories, in which he talks about the relationship between the film and Carver's fiction.
There's a complete 1983 audio interview conducted by Kay Bonetti that covers a wide range of topics, from the autobiographical to the technical, which could only have been better had Criterion provided a better on-screen image of Carver than the artsy menu-screen that remains throughout the discussion. The interview is a real treasure for literature lovers (and teachers who use Ray Carver stories in their classrooms). So is a BBC mini-documentary from the "Moving Pictures" series, which compares elements of "Jerry and Molly and Sam" to the film version and features plenty of interviews. Better still is a documentary on the making of "Short Cuts," which shows Altman and others behind the scenes, and better than that a documentary on Ray Carver made for the Seattle PBS affiliate. This documentary is SO superior to the typical PBS bios that I can't begin to describe the many ways. The talking heads are all people who knew Carver, including his first wife, his mother, his brother-in-law, his editors, and his writer friends, and some of the amazing footage includes clips of Gallagher at the gravesite and at Sky House, where she and Carver wrote, overlooking Puget Sound. There's only one academic, and what makes this documentary click is the spirit of Ray Carver, who remains alive and well in those who knew him and who speak candidly about him—even Carver's mother, who tells how she threw the book across the room when she read what he had to say about her in "Boxes." Writers Tobias Wolff and Ann Beattie provide some of the best insights, as does Carver's writing teacher from Humboldt State, who gives a tour of Carver Country and talks about the real "Chef's House." And Studs Terkel is the voice who reads Carver's poems that provide the narrative for some of the scenes and re-enactments.
There's no commentary, but you know what? Who in his right mind would want a director's commentary attached to a movie that's more than three hours long? Instead, we get an intelligent and informal conversation between two directors—Altman and Robbins—who sit at a bar and have a beer together while reminiscing about the film. It's fascinating to hear them talk. Samples? The kid who got hit by the car was a stunt man's kid, someone who knew how to fall. And Jason Leigh's phone-sex talk was all improv, as was Robbins' attempted pick-up of a woman in clown costume that he stops for an alleged traffic violation. Good stuff here, and they cover more ground than just "Short Cuts."
For an unexpected treat, Dr. John, whose four songs provide the basic soundtrack for the film, can be heard on an audio demo tape playing the piano and singing "To Hell with Love," "I Don't Know You," and "Full Moon."
There are just two deleted scenes and one alternate, all of them short, but the "Hey Clown" clip will leave you laughing. Rounding out the extras is a look at how the film was marketed, and an insert that gives full cast and crew information and provides a contextual essay by Chicago Tribune film critic Michael Wilmington.
In short, wow!
Bottom Line:
Altman crafts a torpid tapestry that's faithful in spirit to the Carver stories, and, by weaving characters in and out of the plots from nine tales, he manages to affirm patterns of behavior that plague them all as much as those nasty medflies. It's a stunning achievement, marred only by the overambitious impulse that led Altman to try to juggle nine stories instead of, say, six, and the Hollywood gene that made him reach into his denim disaster bag near the film's end. And while the mother and daughter musicians he added to the film obviously add musical texture and reinforce the notion of "Short Cuts" playing like a succession of jazz riffs on a Carver melody, the characters themselves aren't as interesting as those that Carver created. That "Short Cuts" is still compelling, despite those flaws, is a tribute to both Carver and Altman.
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[release]13836[/release]