THE ART OF BUSTER KEATON: VOLUMES 1-3 (laserdiscs)
Image Entertainment
For years, only a few of Buster Keaton’s silent masterpieces were
available on laserdisc. Thanks to Image, Kino Video, and Blackhawk Films, this
lamentable situation has finally been rectified. These three boxed sets of
laserdiscs contain all of Keaton’s short and feature films from 1920 to 1928, a
period during which he enjoyed both exceptional creative freedom as well as
commercial and critical success. The 10 discs (three in Volumes 1 and 3, and
four in Volume 2) present the 19 shorts and 11 features that are the basis for
Keaton’s well-deserved status as a master comic and cinematic genius.
Although moments of severely damaged footage crop up occasionally, overall,
the print quality is very high. Several of the films, including a newly
remastered version of The General have been tinted, or have tinted
sequences, and this effect creates an enhanced presentation. There also is
musical accompaniment, generally accomplished and effective, but sometimes
marred by annoying sound effects. Many high-priced laserdisc sets contain
additional materials either on a separate audio track of supplemental disc, but
there are no such special bonuses here. That’s not really a significant
drawback, since the films are so spectacular that they easily stand on their
own. There’s a wealth of written material available on Keaton for those who
want to know more. If forced to recommend one set above the others, it would be
Volume 3, which contains The General and Steamboat Bill, Jr., along with two of Keaton’s finest shorts, Cops and The Playhouse.
But each volume is a must-have item for serious Keaton fans.
For those who don’t have a laserdisc player or aren’t familiar with Keaton’s
work and the idea of dropping a hundred bucks is a bit daunting, the films are
also available on videotape. Each tape (at least, the ones that I’ve seen)
contains one feature and two shorts. The format won’t really matter all that
much to the casual viewer, but the lasting entertainment value of these films
certainly will. – Bud Simons
BOILING POINT
D: Takeshi Kitano; with Masahiko Ono, Yuriko Ishida, Takeshi Kitano,
Takahita Iguchi.
Redemption Video
Recently making his stateside film debut as a member of Johnny
Mnemonic‘s eclectic cast, “Beat” Takeshi Kitano is much better known (and
utilized) in his native Japan, where he hosts his own David Letterman-esque
television show. Additionally, he writes, produces, directs, and acts in
feature films which have run the gamut from subtle, slice-of-life melodramas to
deliciously brutal, black satires of which this jolting 1993 film, Boiling
Point, is representative. The film offers a moody, surreal landscape of
blank and emotionless faces, cruel humor, and harsh violence.
The minimal plot involves an introverted, young, baseball-playing, gas-station
attendant (Ono) who gets himself and his fellow co-workers mixed up with the
Japanese mob, or yakuza, when he unexpectedly attacks one of the gangsters
while on the job. This action sets in motion a chain of events that eventually
allies our heroes with a depraved, hateful yakuza-killer (triple-threat man
Takeshi Kitano), who is, undoubtedly, more psychotic than the gangsters they’re
up against. The film’s deceptively quiet atmosphere slowly explodes into scenes
of wicked violence, and the plot heads toward a pessimistic finale that must be
seen to be believed. In this picture, Takeshi abandons the hard-edged realism
of his Violent Cop and Sonatine (also both highly recommended,
with the former being a particularly effective de-romanticizing of Dirty
Harry-styled cop movies, while the latter presents an unflinching look at a
charismatic, but self-loathing, gangster who dreams of suicide) in lieu of a
structure and atmosphere that is positively dreamlike in its carefully paced
ennui. Several masterful scenes seem to come out of nowhere, like the seemingly
senseless assault on a karaoke bar or the outrageously fatalistic ending, yet
these scenes fit perfectly within the tapestry of this unpredictable picture.
The performances are wonderfully simple, often relying on quiet moments of
telling body language and facial expressions to get points across. Takeshi’s
riveting supporting role is reminiscent of Blue Velvet‘s Frank Booth and
is, far and away, the most daring, memorable turn of this impressive bunch. For
sure, Boiling Point is not a movie for everyone – its lucid imagery and
weird combination of dark comedy and deadpan violence may baffle and (possibly)
offend some viewers – but patient film buffs looking for something a little
different are advised to track down this unusual “buried treasure” of world
cinema (recently, a rental copy was spotted at the I Luv Video store on Airport
Blvd.). – Joey O’Bryan
This article appears in July 7 • 1995 and July 7 • 1995 (Cover).