Red Desert defies any easy kind of synopsis and one really has to let the film wash over them. The first shots in the film are of factories just out of focus and accompanied by a dissonant soundtrack mixed with industrial noises that immediately establish an alienated atmosphere. This is followed by the high pitched sounds of a woman singing. After the opening credits, there is an incredible establishing shot of two massive smoke stacks. Giuliana (Vitti) and her young son arrive at her husband’s factory and encounter some of its workers on strike. The factory grounds are grey and colourless dirt mixed with rubble. Her green coat stands out when contrasted with these drab surroundings.

Early on, industrial imagery is everywhere: in the background of a man in an office talking on the phone, and on the factory floor dwarfing a worker also talking on the phone. The noises of various machines are deafening and omnipresent. Giuliana’s husband Ugo (Chionetti) introduces her to a friend of his, Corrado Zeller (Harris). Huge plumes of smoke billow out of the factory as Ugo and Zeller look on and industrial sounds drown out their conversation. Giuliana and Ugo live in a Spartan-like house with modern-type furniture that anticipates a similar house and decor in David Lynch’s Lost Highway (1997). In fact, all of the industrial imagery and droning avant garde soundtrack would make Lynch green with envy as he would go on to employ it most famously in Eraserhead (1977).

If Red Desert is difficult to follow, Monica Vitti keeps us grounded with her empathy and charisma. Giuliana provides a glimmer of humanity in this hellish, industrialized landscape. Without her presence, the film would be relentlessly bleak. Red Desert is not an easy film to watch and understand if you’re used to conventional narrative cinema but one can sense that Antonioni is trying to say something – that this experimental approach has a purpose but he leaves it up to the audience to figure it out.

Special Features:

There is an audio commentary by Italian film scholar David Forgacs. He points out that the film’s original working title was Light Blue and Green but Antonioni went with his intuition and changed it because it needed to be felt rather than understood. Forgacs says that Monica Vitti claims that the genesis for Red Desert came from a crisis she’d been through in her life. He does a good job analyzing the film and making sense of it all. Forgacs also talks about how Italy’s socio-economical state influenced the film. He delivers a very informative track.

There is a 12-minute interview with Michelangelo Antonioni done for French television in 1964. He talks about how an industrial region near where he grew up inspired the film. He became fascinated with how it symbolized progress and even interviewed some of its workers. Antonioni also talks about using colour for the first time.

Also included is a 9-minute interview with Monica Vitti for French T.V. in 1990. She talks about meeting Antonioni for the first time and what it was like to be in his films while also being romantically linked in their personal lives. She tells some stories about a few of the films they made together.

“Dailies” is a collection of uncut and unfinished footage, some of it in black and white and some in colour, without any audio running 28 minutes in length.

Also included are two short documentaries that Antonioni made early on in his career. “Gente del Po” is an 11-minute film that saw him already exploring an individual’s relationship to their environment – a theme he would continue to explore in later films. “N.U.” is about the lives of street cleaners in Rome.

Finally, there is rather long trailer for the film.

In the first story, “Far from Yokohama,” see two teenager Japanese tourists (Nagase and Kudoh) visit Memphis to take a tour of Graceland and the legendary Sun Studios where Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis and so many others recorded numerous hit records. She is a big fan of the King but he digs Carl Perkins. The key to this segment is miscommunication. The couple don’t get much out of the Sun Studio tour because their guide talks too fast and they don’t understand English all that well, but they do care about each other and in the end that’s enough. There are all kinds of atmospheric tracking shots of the Japanese couple walking through the empty streets of Memphis. They decide to stay in a slightly run-down hotel operated by man played by none other than Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. Once the couple gets situated, there’s a funny bit where the girl goes through a scrapbook filled with famous people and landmarks that resemble Elvis.

The next story, entitled “A Ghost,” concerns a woman (Braschi) from Italy who has arrived in Memphis to take her deceased husband back home. There is a problem with her flight and she has to stay the night. After being hit on by a creepy guy (Tom Noonan) in a restaurant, she takes refuge in the nearby hotel where she meets a woman (Bracco) unable to afford a night there. The two women decide to share a room. In a memorable scene after retiring for the evening, the Italian woman is visited by the spirit of Elvis in what is a touchingly poignant and yet also whimsical moment.

Finally, “Lost in Space” features a trio of inept knuckleheads in the film’s funniest story. Johnny (Strummer) is a cranky Englishman recently fired from his job. After drunkenly waving a gun around in a bar, his friend Will (Aviles) and his brother-in-law Charlie (Buscemi) arrive to diffuse the situation. After Johnny robs a liquor store, he and his friends hide out in the hotel. Charlie and Will try to calm down the mercurial Johnny and keep him under control but it’s not easy. There’s a lot of fun to be had watching Joe Strummer and Steve Buscemi bounce off the walls of the small hotel room they hold up in.

Mystery Train is a fascinating snapshot of Memphis through the eyes of foreigners and the disenfranchised. The stories in this film run the gamut from romantic to touching to amusing but all with a humanistic streak running through them. Jarmusch would follow this film with Night on Earth (1991) which would adhere to the same structure but on a much more ambitious level.

Special Features:

There is a “Q&A with Jim.” As he has done for past Criterion editions of his films, Jarmusch answers questions submitted by fans in lieu of an audio commentary. They are by no means restricted to the film but the bulk of them do pertain to it. Jarmusch confirms that Tom Waits’ D.J. heard in the film is in fact the character he played in Down by Law. He talks about how he worked with the Japanese actors and the origins of their segment title. He also talks about his favourite Elvis era and addresses the barren and bleak look of Memphis in the film.

“I Put a Spell on Me” features excerpts from a 2001 documentary on Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. Jarmusch is interviewed and talks about when he first heard Jay’s signature song, “I Put a Spell on You,” how he used it in Stranger than Paradise and then cast him in Mystery Train. Jay talks about working on the film and shares some amusing anecdotes on this fantastic extra.

“Memphis Tour” revisits many of the locations used in the film. We get a brief history of each location and what happened to it since filming. The restaurant used is the oldest in the city. Unfortunately, the hotel featured so prominently in the film was torn down a year after it was made. This is a fascinating extra that takes a look at how these locales have changed over the years.

“Polaroids” features snapshots taken on location during filming.

Finally, there is a gallery of behind-the-scenes images from a photo book published at the time of the film’s release.

The film begins with a montage of the urbanized existence of a teenage girl (Agutter) and her younger brother (John). Roeg then contrasts these images with the desolate outback of Australia as the two children accompany their father (Meillon) on a trip into the countryside. As they sit down for a picnic, he inexplicably takes out a pistol and begins shooting at them. He then sets their car on fire and kills himself, leaving his children stranded in the outback. The girl is understandably upset but manages to remain calm and collected for the sake of her little brother.

Initially, the girl and her brother treat their situation as a grand adventure. However, the reality of their situation and how much trouble they are in sets in as their meager resources run out and the heat and sun begin to take its toll on them. Not surprisingly, the harsh environment dominates the film and is almost like another character. Lost and in danger of becoming dehydrated, they meet an aboriginal boy (Gulpilil) on a walkabout, a rite of passage where he learns how to survive in the outback by living off the land. With his impressive hunting skills, he helps the girl and her brother survive.

The three lead young actors deliver excellent performances with Jenny Agutter and David Gulpilil being particularly impressive. They spend a lot of time reacting to their environment as much as they do with each other. Agutter and Lucien John are refreshingly devoid of the annoying tics that characterize many child actors. They are quite believable as siblings. Gulpilil transcends the stereotype of the simple, savage native as a savvy aboriginal capable of showing his companions how to survive despite a language barrier.

With the eye of a documentary filmmaker, Roeg includes several shots of insects, birds and other creatures that inhabit this environment that is at once beautiful and foreboding, anticipating films like Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) and, much later, Rogue (2007) in showing how beautiful and dangerous the Australian outback is, but whereas those last two films were made by Australian filmmakers, Roeg is British and brings a fresh, outsider’s perspective.

Like Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven (1978), Walkabout is a stunning example of visual storytelling. The dialogue is largely unimportant and instead there is an emphasis on behaviour, how the characters interact with each other. Roeg isn’t afraid to employ abstractness or ambiguity so that certain scenes are open to interpretation and thereby inviting repeated viewings.

Special Features:

The first disc features an audio commentary by director Nicolas Roeg and actress Jenny Agutter. Roeg says that the screenplay was only 58-60 pages and the producers asked him if it was a short film. Agutter mentions that when she first heard about the film, Apple, the company The Beatles started, might be financing it and was excited at the prospect of meeting the band (but it never happened). Roeg and Agutter recall several filming anecdotes on this slightly dry track.

The second disc starts off with an interview with Luc Roeg, who played the young boy (and was credited as Lucien John), done exclusively for this disc. Not surprisingly, he considers Walkabout his father’s best film. He describes it as a naturalistic film and how his father wanted the actors to behave that way. Naturally, he tells several filming anecdotes.

Also included is an interview with Jenny Agutter done in 2008. She talks about how she was cast in the film and her initial impressions of Roeg. She speaks very eloquently about working on the film but there is some overlap from the commentary.

Arguably the best extra is “Gulpilil – One Red Blood,” a 56-minute documentary on this fascinating person. Despite appearing in numerous films over the years, he is never forgotten his roots. Director Phillip Noyce speaks highly of his performance in Rabbit Proof Fence (2002). Gulpilil laments how alcohol and smoking has taken its toll on his people. He talks about how he was cast in Walkabout.

Finally, there is the trailer.

The film begins with an absolutely breathtaking shot of vast canyons of the American southwest while Ry Cooder’s mournful slide guitar plays. Walking through this harsh, desolate landscape is a bearded man in a suit and red baseball cap. The man’s name is Travis (Stanton) and he makes it to a Texas bar before passing out from exposure to the severe climate. The doctor that treats him finds contact information for his brother Walt (Stockwell) who travels from Los Angeles to meet Travis at this remote town. The brothers haven’t seen each other in four years and when Walt arrives he finds Travis walking along a deserted stretch of road. We eventually learn that four years ago Travis and his wife Jane (Kinski) abandoned their child Hunter (Carson) and both promptly disappeared. Travis is reunited with his son and they decide to go looking for Jane.

With his scruffy beard, world weary eyes and dressed like a hobo, Travis could be a character right out of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. Wedged between such diverse fare as Repo Man (1984) and Pretty in Pink (1986), Paris, Texas serves as a reminder of the impressive range of actor Harry Dean Stanton. For the first 26 minutes of the film he says nothing, relying instead on his expressive eyes and body language to convey how Travis is feeling. Compared to Travis, Walt is a lot chattier and Dean Stockwell plays him as a down-to-earth working stiff. In some respects, he’s our audience surrogate, trying to decipher the enigmatic Travis and figure out his story. This role turned out to be a career resurgence for the veteran character actor who went on to memorable turns in To Live and Die in L.A. (1985) and Blue Velvet (1986).

Paris, Texas features some absolutely gorgeous cinematography by Robby Muller (Down by Law). For example, there is a great shot of Walt at a gas station bathed in green light while in the background the sky is red. It is a striking contrast in colors. Another memorable shot is of an orange, brown stormy sky at sunset as seen through the windshield of Walt’s car. Muller and Wenders’ compositions are fantastic as they illustrate how the characters relate to their environment. For example, in the opening scenes, Travis is constantly dwarfed by the vastness of the desert.

Paris, Texas is about how more than just geography can keep people apart. There’s the emotional distance too. This is a film about two people who got lost on purpose. They dropped out of mainstream society and lost touch with each other and their son. How does this happen and why? These are some of the questions that the film examines as Travis and Jane sift through the emotional wreckage left behind from their damaged relationship.

Special Features:

The first disc features an audio commentary by filmmaker Wim Wenders. The director talks about how he and Ry Cooder decided to use the music that is in the Paris, Texas. Wenders also talks about the origins of the film and working with Sam Shepard on the screenplay. The director talks about the genesis of the film’s title and how it relates to Travis. Wenders tells many filming anecdotes on this informative track.

Also included is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with an interview with Wenders from 2001. He had wanted to make a film about America but hadn’t done it to his satisfaction with his previous films. It wasn’t until Paris, Texas that he felt like he had achieved this goal. It was also the first time he worked in a spontaneous fashion without a pre-planned shot list.

“The Road to Paris, Texas” is a collection of interviews with key collaborators of Wenders over the years. They all speak admiringly of the man. Wenders talks about the influence of rock ‘n’ roll and road movies on his work.

Also included are interviews with both Claire Denis and Allison Anders, who worked on the film as first assistant director and production assistant respectively. They went on to become directors in their own right. They give their impressions of Wenders, how they met him and what it was like to work with the filmmaker. In addition, Anders reads from the diary that she kept while working on the film.

“Cinema Cinemas” is a segment from an April 2, 1984 episode of this French television programming featuring Wenders and composer Cooder working on the score for Paris, Texas. Wenders talks about his love of rock ‘n’ roll music. It was a dream of his to have Cooder work on his film.

There is a collection of deleted scenes with optional commentary by Wenders. We see more of the German doctor taking care of Travis at the beginning of the film. Most of this footage is bits and pieces that just didn’t fit and were ultimately cut. Also included is fantastic Super 8 mm footage, some of which was used in the flashback sequences so as to resemble old home movies.

Finally, there are “Galleries,” one a collection of photographs that Wenders took while location scouting in Texas, Arizona, New Mexico and California. The other gallery is a nice collection of on behind-the-scenes stills taken on location.

Damiel (Ganz) is an angel who listens in on the random thoughts of the citizens of Berlin. He is privy to their most trivial ruminations about life and themselves. He and his kind are able to move among humanity undetected except for small children who have yet to be jaded by life and can still see the world through innocent eyes. Damiel shares his daily observations with a fellow angel named Cassiel (Sander). At one point, Damiel tells his friend, “It’s wonderful to live as spirit and testify for all eternity to only what is spiritual in people’s minds.”

However, he yearns to experience the feelings and sensations that humans face on a regular basis – the every day things that most of us take for granted. Cassiel reminds Damiel that their job is to “do no more than look, gather, testify, verify, preserve … Keep the distance. Keep the word.” However, Damiel begins to seriously consider crossing over and become human when he falls in love with Marion (Dommartin), a lonely trapeze artist who longs for someone to “say a loving word to me.” He wants to be that person and is willing to sacrifice immortality for simple earthly pleasures and profound human feelings.

Bruno Ganz delivers an absolutely soulful performance with his very expressive face and, in particular, his eyes which convey so much empathy. You find yourself getting caught up in his desire to become human, all for the love of a woman.

Director of photography Henri Alekan photographs all of the scenes from the angels’ perspective in black and white while all of the scenes from the human perspective are in colour. This is a clever way of visually differentiating from what the angels experience and what we do. In addition, Wenders’ camera seemingly floats along like when it gracefully glides around a library where several angels observe humanity. It also flies over the city, providing a god’s eye view of Berlin as the angels watch over us.

Wings of Desire is Wenders’ masterpiece, a thoughtful meditation on what it is to be human. His film draws attention to the little things in life that we tend to forget about by presenting us with a character that cannot experience them. Wenders does this through a screenplay immersed in fascinating philosophical musings and complements them with absolutely stunning visuals that stay with you days after.

Special Features:

The first disc features an audio commentary that actually consists of excerpts of interviews with director Wim Wenders and actor Peter Falk over several years. Wenders talks about the origins of Wings of Desire – it was a return to his hometown of Berlin after spending eight years in the United States. He had planned to make another film but it was too complex and expensive. He had to come up with another idea and quick or the production company he had assembled would break up. This fascinating anecdote is only one of many engaging stories as the two men tell all kinds of filming tales. They do a good job of taking us through the making of this film.

Also included are the German theatrical trailer and an amusing “Wen Wunderts” promo trailer.

The second disc features the bulk of the extra material, starting off with “The Angels Among Us,” a 2003 documentary where key cast and crew members are interviewed. Wenders wanted to make a film about Berlin, the way he remembered it when he was young. Peter Handke talks about his unconventional approach to the script. For the two main angels, Wenders cast Bruno Ganz and Otto Sander based on their 20-year friendship and working relationship. Everyone speaks quite eloquently about their experiences making Wings of Desire.

“Cinema Cinemas” features an interview with Wenders from the February 17, 1987 episode of this French television program. We see Wenders at work on the set of Wings of Desire with his cast and crew shooting scenes from the film.

Also included are nine deleted scenes with commentary by Wenders and outtakes but only with music. Not surprisingly, there is a lot of footage of the angels observing humanity. The outtakes feature all sorts of beautiful shots of Berlin.

There is also a gallery of production design photographs that also highlight the film’s gorgeous art direction. Included are captions that comment on some of these stills.

Also included is an interview excerpt from an interview with director of photography Henri Alekan done in November 1985. He talks about the challenge of achieving the right tone and atmosphere in a film.

“Alekan la Lumiere” features excerpts from a 1985 documentary where Alekan talks to Wenders about his cinematic techniques. There is also footage of him at work.

Finally, there is an excerpt from Remembrance, a 1982 film directed by Ganz and Sander about actor Curt Bois who went on to appear in Wings of Desire.

Paula Nelson (Karina) is a private investigator who wears the traditional garb of her profession (a trenchcoat) and carries a gun but is otherwise an atypical gumshoe. At one point, she thinks to herself, “I feel like I’m caught up in a Walt Disney movie, but with Humphrey Bogart, so it’s a political movie.” This thought best sums up Made in the U.S.A. in that it features cartoonish violence while also commenting on the politics of the day, namely the disappearance of Mehdi Ben Barka, a prominent leftist from Morocco in political exile in France. The story, such as it is, sees Paula searching for a lover who may have been assassinated, but takes all kinds of twists and turns so as to make The Big Sleep (1946) seem positively straightforward in comparison.

Godard’s film not only plays around with its visuals but also with its dialogue, like when Paula has a conversation with a bartender and one of his patrons. The customer says, “I’ll try to make sentences but I don’t like to,” and when asked why, replies, “Because sentences are useless or empty words.” Furthermore, he argues, “Sentences can’t be meaningless and have fuller meaning,” and proceeds to rattle off all sorts of nonsensical statements, like “the floor is stubbed out on the cigarette.” The man’s point is that sentences can be grammatically correct but defy coherent logic in terms of content. It’s a fascinating scene that transforms what is supposed to be a crime thriller into an intellectual exercise for a few minutes.

Like many of Godard’s films, Made in U.S.A. explicitly references cinema and draws our attention to the fact that we are watching a movie. This is a very smart film but not a very emotionally involving one, which is fine because it isn’t pretending to be the latter. Made in U.S.A. is a fascinating film to be sure but not one I’d watch again and again.

Special Features:

“On the Cusp: Colin McCabe and Richard Brody” features these two Godard biographers talking about how the filmmaker’s personal and political views informed Made in U.S.A. They also point out that it also signaled the end of any interest Godard had in narrative cinema. Brody and McCabe say that it was Godard’s last attempt to make a genre film.

Also included is a 2002 interview with actress Anna Karina who talks about her life and work with Godard. She was only 17-years-old when she met him and describes the man as a very calculated filmmaker. Karina recounts some stories that provide fascinating insight into his working methods.

Actor Laszlo Szabo, who appeared in several Godard films, talks about making Made in U.S.A. He touches upon Godard’s relationship with Karina and how, in some ways, the film is a love letter to America.

“Made in U.S.A.: A Concordance” is a video essay that sources many of the quotations and references in the film. For example, it points out the pulp fiction references. Many character names came from the cinema.

Finally, there are original and re-release trailers.

The opening shot of Last Year in Marienbad is of a gorgeously ornate ceiling in a hotel which quickly establishes that this film has some of the best photographed architecture outside of a Michelangelo Antonioni film. Voiceover narration describes the place as “baroque” and “gloomy,” where “one endless corridor follows another.” Resnais’ camera glides through various rooms and presents one awe-inspiring furnishing after another, like the intricately designed chandelier that hangs in a room populated by tall mirrors. The voiceover narration repeats continuously, fading in and out of the soundtrack. This opening sequence is a symbolic throwing down of the gauntlet by Resnais as he wants to challenge the traditional way a film should be structured.

A man (Albertazzi) meets a woman (Seyrig) in an elegant ballroom where they dance while engaging in conversation. She asks him, “does this hotel have so many secrets?” to which he replies, “a vast amount.” He tells her that they met before, but she has no memory of such an encounter ever taking place. The man spends most of the film trying to convince the woman of their previous encounter.

Each frame of Last Year in Marienbad is meticulously composed and if freeze-framed, could resemble individual works of art. The film features some rather audacious editing for its time as it cuts back and forth in time in unpredictable fashion. This film is akin to a cinematic jigsaw puzzle and it is up to the audience to make sense of it, to put these seemingly random scenes into some kind of order in their own minds. Marienbad is a cinematic hall of mirrors with all kinds of repetition of images as two people try to connect with each other. They appear to be doomed to roam the hallways and rooms of this vast hotel forever, imprisoned on film. We can revisit them any time we want for they will always be there.

Special Features:

The first disc features the original theatrical and re-release trailers.

The second disc starts off with an “Alain Resnais Audio Interview” with the veteran filmmaker talking over clips and stills from Last Year in Marienbad. He speaks about the origins of the project including meeting Robbe-Grillet for the first time and what drew him to the man’s novels. He goes into detail about various aspects of the film, like the stunning cinematography. Resnais also touches upon the film’s reception at the Cannes Film Festival.

“Unraveling the Enigma: The Making of Marienbad” is a new 33-minute retrospective featurette that examines how this film came together from the perspective of a few key collaborators. They all talk about how they got involved and what it was like working with Resnais.

“Ginette Vincendeau on Last Year at Marienbad” features this film scholar discussing all kinds of interpretations of the film. She calls it a landmark in French cinema. She also describes it as an “enigmatic” film. Vincendeau cites Marienbad as an extreme example of the French New Wave. She does a good job of making sense of the film.

Finally, there is “Documentary Films by Resnais,” which includes two documentaries that he made in the 1950s. Toute la memoire du monde (1956) is about the French national library in Paris, and Le chant du styrene (1958) was shot in polystyrene factories and features abstract colour images.

Antonius Block (von Sydow), a 14th century knight, and his squire are resting on a beach, exhausted from the trials and tribulations of the Crusades and escaping the Black Death. Antonius awakens to find Death present and ready to take his life. In order to prolong the inevitable, the knight challenges the Grim Reaper to a game of chess and if he wins then he gets to live. A bemused Death agrees and so it goes. We also meet three performers, one of them is a juggler named Jof (Poppe), traveling the countryside. In an amusing turn he is courted by Death cutting down the tree that he’s sitting in. Jof and his companions eventually cross paths with Antonius.

Von Sydow plays the idealistic hero on a quest, complete with a sidekick. He’s a noble figure and brave enough to challenge Death to a game of chess. The Seventh Seal is not surprisingly rife with religious symbolism as the filmmaker wrestled with the weighty themes of life and death. Is God a man-made concept or did God create us? Bergman’s film is a fiercely intellectual film and yet not in a pretentious way. Since its debut in Stockholm in February 1957, The Seventh Seal has left behind an impressive legacy that has been expertly preserved in this excellent new special edition.

Special Features:

The first disc starts off with an audio commentary from the previous edition by film scholar Peter Cowie. He briefly talks about the impact that the first time he saw The Seventh Seal had on him. He points out where Bergman drew his inspiration for the look of Death. Cowie populates this track with production anecdotes along with an analysis of what we are watching as well as the film’s themes.

“Afterword” is a follow-up by Cowie to the 1987 commentary he did for the Criterion Collection. He points out the film’s rich humour, despite its reputation as a dark, brooding film about death. This extra gives him a chance to mention things that he failed to when he originally recorded the commentary.

“Max von Sydow Audio Interview” features excerpts of interviews Cowie conducted with the veteran actor in 1988 for a book about the man. He talks about his upbringing and his parents. He recounts his first experience with the theatre and how it led to him becoming an actor.

“Woody Allen on Bergman” features a wonderful short film from Turner Classic Movies with Allen talking about his love for Bergman’s films over a montage of clips from them. He says that The Seventh Seal is his favourite Bergman film. This is an eloquent tribute to the man and his films.

Also included is a trailer.

The second disc includes “Bergman Island,” an impressive feature-length documentary about Bergman that was released in 2006. Bergman reflects on his life and career, coming across as a modest and humble man who tells all kinds of engaging anecdotes from his life. There are many clips from his films and excellent behind-the-scenes footage.

Finally, there is “Bergman 101,” a crash course on the life and career of Bergman by Cowie. He narrates over stills and clips from the man’s films. This is an excellent primer that traces Bergman’s career arc and touches upon many of his films while also providing factoids and analysis.

We first meet playwright and actor Wallace Shawn walking the run-down-looking streets of SoHo in New York City as he contemplates the difficulties of his profession. He is en route to having dinner with an old friend, which he is dreading because they haven’t spoken in years and he’s heard all sorts of rumours. Shawn arrives at the restaurant and finally meets his old friend who is none other than theatre director Andre Gregory.

They get ordering their food out of the way and the film gets down to business: an in-depth conversation that covers all sorts of topics. Gregory starts things off by telling a long story about how, years ago, he had become disenchanted with the theatre and how his passion for it was rejuvenated. Other highlights include Gregory telling Shawn about what he always perceived as the fascist undertones in The Little Prince, an amusing story about a Buddhist monk who stayed with him and his family and how, over time, his habits changed due to the influence of metropolitan life. Gregory ruminates about death and the state of things – how we are unaware of ourselves. Conversely, Shawn talks about expressing one’s feelings directly and champions the theatre. He also talks about the notion of reality.

Most people know Shawn from either The Princess Bride (1987) or Clueless (1995), his two most high profile films, but prior to them he had several plays produced off-Broadway, including Our Late Night in 1975, which was directed by Gregory. Soon after, he had a memorable cameo playing Diane Keaton’s ex-husband in Woody Allen’s Manhattan (1979). Like Shawn, Gregory was a well-known figure in New York’s experimental theatre world. He founded the Manhattan Project in the late 1960s, a theatre group that was known for its lengthy rehearsal periods and extensive use of improvisation.

My Dinner with Andre is a film that champions the lost art of conversation – something that is even more apparent in a world dominated by technological distractions like cell phones, the Internet, iPods, and so on. These things weren’t around at the time of the film which dates it, but in a good way. This is certainly not a film for everyone as many would probably find a film about two guys pontificating and philosophizing a big bore but for those who believe that we are getting increasingly disconnected from each other will find comfort in My Dinner with Andre.

Special Features:

“Andre Gregory and Wallace Shawn” features filmmaker Noah Baumbach interviewing the stars of My Dinner with Andre separately. Gregory talks about how he met Shawn and how the film came together. He had told many of the stories recounted in the film, socially, and often felt like he was rehearsing for a film. He says that they asked Mike Nichols to direct but he couldn’t do it. Gregory talks about the writing and tells a lot of fantastic stories. Shawn talks about his views of theatre and his early experiences as a playwright. He also talks about how he came up with the idea for the film. One of his goals for the film was to destroy a side of himself that was ruled by fear. He says that Louis Malle brought a warmth to the film that he hadn’t written and may explain why it was so well-received.

“My Dinner with Louis” is a 1982 episode of the BBC show Arena and features Shawn talking with filmmaker Louis Malle about working with Jacques Cousteau and making films in America. He talks about the controversial reaction to his film, The Lovers (1958). He speaks quite eloquently about his early career. He discusses some of the themes he explored in his American films.

Rose (Richardson) and Lotty (Lawrence) are two prim and proper Englishwomen who decide to rent a quaint castle by the sea in Italy for the month of April. They desperately need to escape their stifling lives. Rose’s husband (Broadbent) writes saucy pulp novels, much to her chagrin. Lotty’s husband (Molina) is an uncouth pig, much to her dismay. To cut down on the cost, Rose and Lotty ask two other women to join them: Mrs. Fisher (Plowright), a pompous widow, and Lady Caroline (Walker), a stylish and bored socialite.

They get together every day for meals and initially there is a clash of personalities: the haughty, mother hen-ish behaviour of Mrs. Fisher, the aloof Caroline who just wants to be left alone, the timid Lotty, and the moralistic Rose. Things get a bit more interesting when Rose and Lotty’s husbands show up along with the castle’s owner (Kitchen) altering the group dynamic significantly. However, the place works its magic on everyone as they fall under its romantic spell.

Director Mike Newell draws a sharp contrast between England, with its drab earth tones, and Italy, with its lush green trees and vibrant pink flowers. This colourful new environment gives these women a chance to enjoy themselves for the first time in the case of the repressed Rose and the oppressed Lotty. Enchanted April presents the women’s introspective thoughts via voiceover and provides some insight into how this place is affecting them. It goes without saying that the cast is uniformly excellent with veterans like Miranda Richardson and Joan Plowright with the likes of Josie Lawrence and Polly Walker who bring their characters effortlessly to life and are fascinating to watch.

The attention to the 1920s period details, especially during the scenes in England, is excellent but also understated. We are never told the year but there is no need to because the production design and costumes tell us everything we need to know. Enchanted April, with its female protagonists escaping their dreary lives for an exotic locale, clearly was an influence on a film like Under the Tuscan Sun (2003), and has the look and feel of a Merchant-Ivory production.

Special Features:

This is the first time Enchanted April has been released on Region 1 DVD and the results are mixed. The transfer looks washed out and there are still dirt and marks on the print but hey, it is nice to finally have this film on DVD.

The only extra is an audio commentary by director Mike Newell and producer Ann Scott. Newell’s memory of the filming isn’t the greatest but Scott helps jog his memory. She talks about the challenge of getting financing and the pressure to do the novel justice. They shot the film in the Italian equivalent of the French Rivera and had to contend with large, noisy boats during weekends. Newell and Scott share all kinds of anecdotes and complement each other well.