1941 - DVD review

With my apologies to Mr. Churchill, never was so much done by so many for so few. Steven Spielberg had just wowed the public with "Jaws" (1975) and "Close Encounters" (1977) when he made "1941," so when I went to see it on opening day I expected crowds. There were maybe a dozen people in the theater. Critics panned the film and audiences ignored it. To a director with the best track record in Hollywood history, all the negative reaction to "1941" must still be galling, as he intimates in the documentary supplied with the disc. But, you know, I liked the film then and I like it now.

For all its excesses, and there are certainly plenty, the best parts continue to tickle me. The film's release on DVD allows one to skip the bits one doesn't care for, and since the plot is episodic anyway, a missing scene here or there is of small concern. Equally important, this is one of Universal's celebrated Collector's Editions, meaning it has enough peripheral material to keep even non-fans occupied well into the night.

Spielberg and co-writers Robert Zemeckis, Bob Gale, and John Milius tried to capture the style of the screwball comedies of the thirties and forties as well as the massive scale of Stanley Kramer's 1963 epic comedy "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World." Based loosely on real events, "1941" takes place just after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, when the Western United States was in a state of frenzy over a possible Japanese attack upon the mainland. The film begins with a brilliant parody of the director's own "Jaws," but this time it's a nude swimmer getting caught on the periscope of a Japanese submarine. The errant sub, obviously off course, is commanded by Toshiro Mifune, who is determined to return home with honor; and along for the ride is a Nazi advisor played Christopher Lee. They determine to blow up Hollywood, and before the picture is through, most of Hollywood's funny men turn up in it.

Dan Aykroyd, John Candy, Treat Williams, and Frank McRae play a group of soldiers assigned to set up an artillery battery on the coast. Lorraine Gary and Ned Beatty play a Blondie and Dagwood-type couple whose ocean-view house is ideally situated for a cannon. Their daughter, played by Dianne Kay, is a dancer at the Hollywood USO, and her boyfriend, played by Bobby DiCicco, is forever chasing after her. John Belushi carries on his trademark role as a manic, cigar-chewing fighter pilot named Wild Bill Kelso, intent on tracking down what he thinks is an enemy aircraft. Murray Hamilton is a plane spotter with a fear of heights, sitting atop a Ferris wheel with Jerry Lewis look-alike Eddie Deezen and a ventriloquist's dummy that begins to talk by itself.

Slim Pickens replays his "Dr. Strangelove" routine, this time as a Christmas tree salesman picked up by the Japanese submarine because his name is Hollis "Holly" Wood. Veteran character actor Warren Oates plays Col. "Madman" Maddox, who's waiting in the desert for reinforcements, convinced the enemy is parachuting in around him from a secret air base in Pomona. Robert Stack plays General Joseph Stilwell, the real-life officer in charge of defending the Coast and the only person who maintains a semblance of sanity throughout the proceedings. Finally, Tim Matheson plays the General's aide, who is more interested in trying to score with Nancy Allen than in helping out the war effort. Along for the ride in various minor roles are Elisha Cook, Patty Lupone, Wendie Jo Sperber, Penny Marshall, Lionel Stander, Perry Lang, Dub Taylor, and Joseph P. Flaherty. According to the end credits, even Mickey Rourke and director John Landis are buried in the film somewhere.

The movie is loud, rambling, and rambunctious, with dozens of gags that fall flat. A riot in the streets, a crash landing in the La Brea Tar Pits, and a wild tank ride through a paint factory are but a few of the film's noisy superfluities. Then, in what would appear to make an overlong movie even more drawn-out and disjointed, Universal's Collector's Edition restores about thirty minutes of footage not included in the original theatrical release. But the added scenes are mainly transitional and, surprise, help give a greater sense of continuity to the goings on, especially in establishing DiCicco's part as a focal point for the story. The USO jitterbug contest and the ensuing brawl, a sequence that lasts a good twenty minutes, and later a giant Ferris wheel rolling into the sea are themselves worth the price of the disc. As usual, John Williams provides the film score, this time embracing a rousing march that accompanies most of the action. It's unrelenting and after a while a little grating, but it adds to the sense of occasion. And there's that Big Band sound of the era that's great to listen to. Spielberg said he wanted to do the whole thing as a musical but couldn't bring himself to follow through on his convictions.

Video:
The widescreen picture is in a 2.35:1 aspect ratio and delivers over forty per cent more image than the standard pan-and-scan version available on tape. The picture quality is soft and smooth, but because of the filmmakers' extensive use of smoke to set the mood, it all seems slightly veiled; the smoke washes out the colors as it enshrouds most of the settings, both indoors and out. The effect makes sense--everyone's in a fog throughout the story, a fact established from the opening scene--but the diffuse colors take a while to get used to. The print betrays some signs of wear as well, minor lines and scratches and such, and the non-anamorphic transfer shows a bit of fuzz around the edges, some grain, and a few moire effects.

Audio:
The Dolby Digital 5.1 sonics are extended in frequency range and dynamics, wide in stereo spread, and decently dispersed in the rear channels. But the sound is over bright in the midrange, and voices are pinched, metallic, and nasal, negating much of the good we hear elsewhere.

Extras:
The bonus items include the aforementioned extra footage; a documentary almost two hours long on the making of the film, apparently produced for laser disc in 1995; a score of deleted scenes; storyboard photos; publicity materials; and an outstanding sixty chapter stops!

Parting Thoughts:
The picture and sound properties may be disappointing, and the film's over indulgences continue unabated in the DVD presentation. Spielberg admits he wasn't quite sure what his vision was in this production and purposely threw in everything but the kitchen sink. Yet, all in all, viewers will be in for a good time if they have the patience to endure some of the sillier elements.

"Did I get ‘em?" asks Ned Beatty after taking a shot at the enemy submarine. "Close, Ward, close," is the reply. It pretty well sums up the film.