Today sees the release of the BFI’s dual-format reissue of their 2004 DVD package containing both Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí film collaborations, Un chien andalou (1929) and L’âge d’or (1930), together with José Luis López-Linares and Javier Rioyo’s feature-length documentary A propósito de Buñuel (which is actually longer than the two main films put together). I contributed a short biography of Buñuel to the 2004 release, which has been reprinted in the booklet of the new one.

Here are the specs:

• Presented in both High Definition and Standard Definition;
• Selected scenes commentary for L’âge d’or by author and filmmaker Robert Short;
• Un chien andalou (1929, 16 mins): the 1960 restoration of Buñuel and Dalí’s debut;
• Alternative score for Un chien andalou by Mordant Music;
• Commentary for Un chien andalou by Robert Short;
• A propósito de Buñuel (2000, 99 mins, DVD only);
• Filmed introduction by Robert Short (25 mins, DVD only);
• 26-page illustrated booklet with essays, biographies and credits.

Originally, Un chien andalou was going to be the same standard-definition version as featured on the 2004 release, on the grounds that the BFI didn’t have anything better. Thankfully, and possibly as a result of discontented rumblings online (one person even pre-emptively gave the release a one-star Amazon review – since deleted – purely because of this), they were able to track down a duplicate 16mm negative of the 1960 restoration, which was the last one that Buñuel worked on directly. The result is a mixed bag – in many respects it’s a clear improvement on the older version, not least because there’s noticeably more detail visible, but the cropping is the same (impossible to ignore when it affects onscreen text) and the image clearly hasn’t undergone much if any proper restoration.

On the other hand, L’âge d’or looks magnificent. This needs a slight qualification, as a film of this age and lengthy history of suppression will never look pristine, as indeed this doesn’t. But simply reframing it at the correct 1.19:1 aspect ratio makes a significant difference over previous 1.33:1 versions (there’s much more visible headroom), meaning that even the DVD represents a marked advance over its predecessor. But the extra definition is where the upgrade really shines – clearly sourced not just from 35mm but from a cleaner print than anything I ever saw in cinemas (and I saw this film pretty regularly throughout the 1980s and 90s, as it would often get free screenings at places like the then Tate Gallery), it’s hard to imagine it coming across much more effectively.

Reviews

The BFI’s long-awaited dual-format edition of Jan Švankmajer’s Alice finally hits the streets today amid much anticipation and excitement: reviews so far have been mostly frothing raves. I’m credited as co-producer (though in truth my role was more of a consultant: Upekha Bandaranayake and technical supervisor James White deserve far more credit for the physical product) and also wrote several of the pieces in the booklet.

The full specs:

• Presented in both High Definition and Standard Definition;
• Original Czech and alternative English-language audio;
• Alice in Wonderland (1903, 9 mins): the first screen adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s classic;
• Elsie and the Brown Bunny (1921, 8 mins, DVD only): early advertising film for Cadbury Bros. Ltd;
• Alice in Label Land (1974, 12 mins): animated COI film explaining the 1973 food labelling laws;
• Stille Nacht II: Are We Still Married? (1992, 3 mins): the Quay Brothers’ Alice-inspired music film;
• Stille Nacht IV: Can’t Go Wrong Without You (1993, 4 mins): the white rabbit returns in the second of the Quay Brothers’ music films for His Name is Alive;
• 34-page illustrated booklet with essays, film notes, biographies and credits.

Although I’d been treated to glimpses of the new high-definition transfer during the production, it wasn’t until my own copy arrived a fortnight or so ago that I could appreciate the radical transformation. It’s not just the extra detail (though this makes a substantial difference in itself: Švankmajer has always been obsessed with texture and tactility) but the eye-poppingly punchy colours. Although it probably looked pretty similar back in 1988, when I first saw the film in 35mm, successive video editions have contrived to make it look as drab and battered as Švankmajer’s much-abused puppets. No longer.

Being in the original Czech for what I think is the first time in an English-speaking country also makes a huge difference. Not so much for the language itself (both Czech and English soundtracks are pitched at children’s vocabulary level – my Czech is laughable, but I can follow much of it easily) as for the elimination of that jarring dislocation between the English soundtrack and the gigantic close-ups of Alice’s lip movements. In fact, since the girl in the closeups wasn’t even lead actress Krystyna Kohoutová (who lost a front tooth at a crucial moment), I can only assume that financial issues prevented splicing in clips of an English girl as an alternative, as that would have been far more aesthetically effective. Still, despite an obvious preference for the Czech, the BFI was absolutely right to retain the English soundtrack, and not just for nostalgia purposes – my six-year-old daughter loves the film, and there’s no way I’d have got her to sit through anything in subtitled Czech.

My only real regret about such a superlative package is that it’s spoilt me to the extent that I now want to see Švankmajer’s entire output in Blu-ray in similarly peerless transfers sourced from the best possible 35mm materials (the BFI had access to the camera negative and original 35mm interpositive – in other words the mother lode). But I fear that this may take some considerable time, if it ever comes close to happening at all.

Reviews

• The Arts Desk (Fisun Güner);
• Blu-rayDefinition.com (Brandon DuHamel);
• Cathode Ray Tube (Frank Collins);
• Daily Telegraph (Philip Horne);
• The Digital Fix (Anthony Nield);
• DVD Beaver (Gary Tooze)
• DVD Outsider (Slarek);
• Electric Sheep (Peter Hames);
• Eye for Film (Anton Bitel);
• Horrorview (Black Gloves);
• Infini-Tropolis;
• Mondo Digital (Nathaniel Thompson);
• Movie Muser (Mike Martin);
• New Statesman (Ryan Gilbey);
• The Oxford Times (David Parkinson);
• The Quietus (David Moats);
• Rhythm Circus (Andy Wilson);
• Rock! Shock! Pop! (Alison Jane)
• Twitch (J. Hurtado).