Page 4
T h e W Y V E R N M u l t i p l e x
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Movies, Prequels, Sequels, and Less-Than-Equels
100 years of movies are now available on DVD and Blu-ray.
On the pages that follow are my personal recommendations of films worth viewing and often owning. Or neither.
For now, here's a little more while we're on the subject.
On the pages that follow are my personal recommendations of films worth viewing and often owning. Or neither.
For now, here's a little more while we're on the subject.
Fig. 1. The Wyvern Theater, Swindon, UK.
One can imagine that pupils learning about world history a few thousand years ago were faced with a lot less to know when it came to taking tests and such. Likewise when I was growing up in the 1950's, almost all subjects taught in the average school were still fairly basic compared to the formidable bulk of information facing students in modern-day classrooms. Unfortunately the same is also true when it comes to one of the world's greatest forms of entertainment -- the motion picture.
I say "unfortunately" because even when I was a youngster (a few thousand years ago) one couldn't possibly keep up with the wealth of films that had already been made, but were still piling up by the hundreds (if not thousands) year after year after year. Until today when the sheer volume of titles (and genres) staggers the imagination. And therein lies the dilemma for the ever increasing new throngs of young movie enthusiasts. The almost insurmountable challenge of choosing which films to watch. No doubt very similar to avid readers who must decide from a virtual infinity of books, the volumes that are worth their time and often their money.
I say "unfortunately" because even when I was a youngster (a few thousand years ago) one couldn't possibly keep up with the wealth of films that had already been made, but were still piling up by the hundreds (if not thousands) year after year after year. Until today when the sheer volume of titles (and genres) staggers the imagination. And therein lies the dilemma for the ever increasing new throngs of young movie enthusiasts. The almost insurmountable challenge of choosing which films to watch. No doubt very similar to avid readers who must decide from a virtual infinity of books, the volumes that are worth their time and often their money.
Fig. 2. Credit: graphicleftovers.com
ASPECT RATIOS
(If just seeing the words, aspect ratios, makes you gag on your popcorn,
please use one of the air-sick bags provided for your convenience.)
The STANDARD 4:3 MODEL
Antiquated but far from obsolete
Probably the single most confusing aspect of modern home entertainment systems concerns what are called "aspect ratios". The second most confusing is the difference between old fashioned 4:3 widescreen movies and the superior (but not necessarily newer) anamorphic widescreen versions of those same films. Problems started when studios began producing home-video versions of their widescreen movies -- and horrified consumers suddenly noticed that the tops and bottoms of their traditional TV screens were blank "bars" with only a middle portion displaying what was left of the original film. As if things weren't bad enough, different movies played differently on the same TV; some were larger while others were little more than a narrow strip that appeared to squint at the viewer the same as the viewer often needed to squint back. To make matters worse, the new crop of so-called "widescreen" TV's were hitting the market, hitting the consumers' pocket books, and with even newer terms such as sixteen-by-nine, "enhanced", and anamorphic to deal with, it was no wonder the TV department of the average electronics store was fast becoming more like a hostile jungle than a place to upgrade one's viewing experience.
Shown below are three views of the same, traditional-model TV set. This is the one your mom and dad grew up with. Me, too. Something weird happened, though, once I got back from the video store, popped in my VHS rental of Ben Hur, and was shocked to see that the tape was obviously defective. When it came to the climactic chariot race, I lost the top and bottom half of the picture. It was still watchable, but barely so. Thank God once the race was over, the screen returned to "normal". One thing I did notice, however, is how much more stuff seemed to be going on (how much more there was to see) in the shrunken portion of the film than was visible after the picture got big again. Hmm, I wondered at the time. I wonder what that was all about?
Looking back, I feel silly now, that there was ever a time when all this stuff left me so bamboozled; I think they did it on purpose. Just so I wouldn't get too cocky and think I knew more about this than they did. Which eventually turned out to be precisely what happened. But only after years of plodding through both a lack of information and gobs of misinformation. Anyhoo, long story short, when the studios began including widescreen movies (the original theatrical versions) first on VHS tape, then on things called "laserdiscs" -- even on DVD's in the beginning -- they were designed to be shown on the 4:3 standard-model TV's I've graciously put on display below. By the way, that pan-and-scan Ben Hur movie did indeed include a widescreen version of the chariot race, which then reverted back to its original pan-and-scan format. Which was far from an "original" anything.
Oh, fine, now I need to explain a bit about so-called "pan-and-scan" films and how they differ not only from widescreen versions of the same movie, but also how not all movies are widescreen anything. Lots of movies were made (from the start) to be shown on the small-screen as it's known by techies. Which is another name for what we see below (on the left) as the standard, full-screen 4:3 model. Made-for-TV movies, by example, were shot at an aspect ratio (sorry) of 1.33:1 so they would "fill" the whole screen on our TV's. Just so you know, the numbers 1.33:1 aren 't as mysterious as they look. They just want you to think so. And I'm not even paranoid. Well, not obsessively so, anyway. Although just because you're not, doesn't mean they're still not out to get you. But I digress.
Two things: pan-and-scan, and a ratio of 1.33:1 (which means nothing more than for every one unit in height, the width is one-unit plus an extra .33 of a unit more). Come on, that's pretty simple, right? So the width is a bit wider than it is tall, but essentially the screen is basically square. Which is what you are if you aren't following me so far. Now then, although there's an obnoxious bunch of different widescreen formats, we'll focus on just the two main ones: 1.85:1 and 2.35:1, which you already sort of understand, because it's exactly the same thing as 1.33:1, but with different numbers. Absolute kids' stuff. The white portion of the middle TV picture below is what we see when playing a movie with a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, and almost needless to say at this point, the right-hand image shows us a screen ratio of 2.35:1. By the way, that's how the widescreen version of STAR WARS looks on the small-screen. Which tells you that the movie was shot at a ratio of 2.35:1. Hey, are you getting up-to-snuff with this stuff or what? That just leaves us with that other business: pan-and-scan. Which served us well for half a century despite its being little more than horse and buggy technology.
Trivia break: Prior to the 1950's, almost all films were produced at the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, which fit perfectly the screens of our 4:3 television sets. The obvious compatibility between both theater and home TV screens was not coincidental by any stretch, but that's another story. Suffice it to say that early VHS tapes showed no problems with early films from the 30's, 40's and (non-widescreen) movies of the 50's and 60's. Only when studios wanted to provide VHS rentals of the more popular widescreen Hollywood movies, did an emerging problem become truly problematical. In the meantime, these same studios had, for some years, been producing special versions of their widescreen movies that were specifically designed for our small-screen TV's. And this was long before the first VHS tape was ever made. The technique used for "copying" a widescreen film so it can viewed on a standard 4:3 television is a process called "pan-and-scan".
Okay. Once you understand pan-and-scan (also known as "full-screen", you're 3/4 of the way home in learning the basics of home video. Remember how all those studios were adapting their widescreen Hollywood movies to fit the small screen? In many widescreen formats, one of the most well known being cinemascope which was pioneered by 20th Century Fox, a lot of action can take place on the far left or far right of the screen. Sometimes two or more characters talk to each other from opposite sides of the screen. Thus if the middle part of the movie was shown "as is" on a standard TV, some important other parts might be hidden or cut-off from view. To prevent this, a special studio camera scans and pans the film, which is shown on a special screen. A director (of sorts) makes sure the final cut of the movie (literally) makes sense and follows (literally) the action taking place on the screen -- wherever it occurs on the screen. If it sounds like a lot of extra effort to convert a widescreen movie for standard TV, it was (and still is). All too common, also, were cheap, lousy conversion jobs which we've all seen and scowled at without really knowing the reason why. Well, now you know. Not all pan-and-scan films are created equal. You're shocked, I know.
Another trivia break: Disney pioneered a new pan-and-scan process for converting some of its widescreen animated movies into more kid-friendly versions. The technique actually creates a whole new imaging of the original film such that virtually nothing is lost in the conversion process. I don't know much more than that, and I don't think either of us really cares all that much.
Shown below are three views of the same, traditional-model TV set. This is the one your mom and dad grew up with. Me, too. Something weird happened, though, once I got back from the video store, popped in my VHS rental of Ben Hur, and was shocked to see that the tape was obviously defective. When it came to the climactic chariot race, I lost the top and bottom half of the picture. It was still watchable, but barely so. Thank God once the race was over, the screen returned to "normal". One thing I did notice, however, is how much more stuff seemed to be going on (how much more there was to see) in the shrunken portion of the film than was visible after the picture got big again. Hmm, I wondered at the time. I wonder what that was all about?
Looking back, I feel silly now, that there was ever a time when all this stuff left me so bamboozled; I think they did it on purpose. Just so I wouldn't get too cocky and think I knew more about this than they did. Which eventually turned out to be precisely what happened. But only after years of plodding through both a lack of information and gobs of misinformation. Anyhoo, long story short, when the studios began including widescreen movies (the original theatrical versions) first on VHS tape, then on things called "laserdiscs" -- even on DVD's in the beginning -- they were designed to be shown on the 4:3 standard-model TV's I've graciously put on display below. By the way, that pan-and-scan Ben Hur movie did indeed include a widescreen version of the chariot race, which then reverted back to its original pan-and-scan format. Which was far from an "original" anything.
Oh, fine, now I need to explain a bit about so-called "pan-and-scan" films and how they differ not only from widescreen versions of the same movie, but also how not all movies are widescreen anything. Lots of movies were made (from the start) to be shown on the small-screen as it's known by techies. Which is another name for what we see below (on the left) as the standard, full-screen 4:3 model. Made-for-TV movies, by example, were shot at an aspect ratio (sorry) of 1.33:1 so they would "fill" the whole screen on our TV's. Just so you know, the numbers 1.33:1 aren 't as mysterious as they look. They just want you to think so. And I'm not even paranoid. Well, not obsessively so, anyway. Although just because you're not, doesn't mean they're still not out to get you. But I digress.
Two things: pan-and-scan, and a ratio of 1.33:1 (which means nothing more than for every one unit in height, the width is one-unit plus an extra .33 of a unit more). Come on, that's pretty simple, right? So the width is a bit wider than it is tall, but essentially the screen is basically square. Which is what you are if you aren't following me so far. Now then, although there's an obnoxious bunch of different widescreen formats, we'll focus on just the two main ones: 1.85:1 and 2.35:1, which you already sort of understand, because it's exactly the same thing as 1.33:1, but with different numbers. Absolute kids' stuff. The white portion of the middle TV picture below is what we see when playing a movie with a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, and almost needless to say at this point, the right-hand image shows us a screen ratio of 2.35:1. By the way, that's how the widescreen version of STAR WARS looks on the small-screen. Which tells you that the movie was shot at a ratio of 2.35:1. Hey, are you getting up-to-snuff with this stuff or what? That just leaves us with that other business: pan-and-scan. Which served us well for half a century despite its being little more than horse and buggy technology.
Trivia break: Prior to the 1950's, almost all films were produced at the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, which fit perfectly the screens of our 4:3 television sets. The obvious compatibility between both theater and home TV screens was not coincidental by any stretch, but that's another story. Suffice it to say that early VHS tapes showed no problems with early films from the 30's, 40's and (non-widescreen) movies of the 50's and 60's. Only when studios wanted to provide VHS rentals of the more popular widescreen Hollywood movies, did an emerging problem become truly problematical. In the meantime, these same studios had, for some years, been producing special versions of their widescreen movies that were specifically designed for our small-screen TV's. And this was long before the first VHS tape was ever made. The technique used for "copying" a widescreen film so it can viewed on a standard 4:3 television is a process called "pan-and-scan".
Okay. Once you understand pan-and-scan (also known as "full-screen", you're 3/4 of the way home in learning the basics of home video. Remember how all those studios were adapting their widescreen Hollywood movies to fit the small screen? In many widescreen formats, one of the most well known being cinemascope which was pioneered by 20th Century Fox, a lot of action can take place on the far left or far right of the screen. Sometimes two or more characters talk to each other from opposite sides of the screen. Thus if the middle part of the movie was shown "as is" on a standard TV, some important other parts might be hidden or cut-off from view. To prevent this, a special studio camera scans and pans the film, which is shown on a special screen. A director (of sorts) makes sure the final cut of the movie (literally) makes sense and follows (literally) the action taking place on the screen -- wherever it occurs on the screen. If it sounds like a lot of extra effort to convert a widescreen movie for standard TV, it was (and still is). All too common, also, were cheap, lousy conversion jobs which we've all seen and scowled at without really knowing the reason why. Well, now you know. Not all pan-and-scan films are created equal. You're shocked, I know.
Another trivia break: Disney pioneered a new pan-and-scan process for converting some of its widescreen animated movies into more kid-friendly versions. The technique actually creates a whole new imaging of the original film such that virtually nothing is lost in the conversion process. I don't know much more than that, and I don't think either of us really cares all that much.
Broadcast TV / Pan & Scan movies
Fig. 3. The image above applies to all screen sizes from 3.5" to 35" models.
|
The standard 4:3 widescreen film
Fig. 4. This ratio completely fills the screens of 16x9 widescreen TVs. Compares also to 1.78:1.
|
The super-widescreen 4:3 format
Fig. 5. The "STAR WARS" format. Even on widescreens, black bars remain top and bottom.
|
The (New) STANDARD 16x9 MODEL
Don't be square daddy-o! Get hip and go-cat-go with the new (and cool) widescreen generation!
Shown below is the now-typical 16x9 widescreen TV. And because of my pseudo-expert explanations thus far, you know what that ratio refers to. Namely that the height (regardless of TV size) is always nine units compared to a width which is always sixteen units. As mentioned, this applies no matter how large or small the widescreen TV is terms of inches -- usually measured diagonally. Shown below squatted in the middle of the screen is the square, 4:3 full-screen image as it appears when displayed on a 16x9 set. Do you think they could have made things any more confusing? Full-screen on a flat-screen means half the screen is unused. Is it any wonder I had to go to a buzz-cut when all my hair started falling out?
Maybe you'll find this next part interesting instead of annoying. If the flat-screen TV shown here were a 42" model (measured diagonally), the white portion of the screen (the 4:3 part) would be almost exactly the same size as the screen area of the last of the CRT (cathode-ray-tube) TV's -- the 35" model. Since the 42" 16x9 is the most common and popular size, it's probably no coincidence that the 35" square picture fits perfectly inside the consumer's new widescreen model.
Maybe you'll find this next part interesting instead of annoying. If the flat-screen TV shown here were a 42" model (measured diagonally), the white portion of the screen (the 4:3 part) would be almost exactly the same size as the screen area of the last of the CRT (cathode-ray-tube) TV's -- the 35" model. Since the 42" 16x9 is the most common and popular size, it's probably no coincidence that the 35" square picture fits perfectly inside the consumer's new widescreen model.
The flat-screen, widescreen 16x9 format.
Fig. 6. The 4:3 white area of a 16x9 screen shows how the two differ.
When DVD's were first introduced around the mid to late nineties, give or take, they were following on the footsteps of a previous technology that had been the forerunner not only of optical-disc technology, but of the widespread dissemination (and popularization) of widescreen movies. Plus another vast improvement involving the quality of stereo audio. Known simply as "surround-sound" at first, the Dolby laboratories quickly perfected this revolutionary leap, naming it originally as AC-3 Dolby Digital, then changing it to its current nomenclature of 5.1 Dolby Surround. Which is also 6.1 and 7.1 and a bunch of other stuff, all of it designed to confuse the public and get them to spend more money. Keep it simple whenever possible is my motto. And don't try explaining this to anyone. That should have maybe been my motto all along, you think?
Now where was I? Oh, yeah, I was just about to say what it was that foreshadowed the arrival of the DVD, and upon whose shoulders, so to speak, the DVD rode into town. They were called "laserdiscs" and were (are) about the size of a standard phonograph record. Except heavier, thicker, brilliantly silver and utterly audacious. They were like the crowning achievement of video technology. Until DVD's came along. The reason this is all worth mentioning is because widescreen was becoming a big deal with even VHS getting into the act. Also keep in mind that flat-screen, widescreen TV's were still a ways off and most videos, regardless of format, were still designed to play on a standard 4:3 screen.
About this time, almost like a prairie dog sticking its head out of a burrow and looking around, another newcomer was sniffing the air and making its presence known. It also came with an awful-sounding name: anamorphic. So-called "anamorphic" widescreen (there is no such thing as anamorphic full-screen). So what the heck was this thing now, this anna-more-fickle business? Fortunately, the anamorphic process rescued us from what had been previously limited to 4:3 widescreen, and catapulted viewers into a whole new dimension of film quality known as, of course, anamorphic widescreen. The four screens below illustrate the dramatic differences between the original 4:3 widescreen and largely ubiquitous (nowadays) anamorphic widescreen displays.
Now where was I? Oh, yeah, I was just about to say what it was that foreshadowed the arrival of the DVD, and upon whose shoulders, so to speak, the DVD rode into town. They were called "laserdiscs" and were (are) about the size of a standard phonograph record. Except heavier, thicker, brilliantly silver and utterly audacious. They were like the crowning achievement of video technology. Until DVD's came along. The reason this is all worth mentioning is because widescreen was becoming a big deal with even VHS getting into the act. Also keep in mind that flat-screen, widescreen TV's were still a ways off and most videos, regardless of format, were still designed to play on a standard 4:3 screen.
About this time, almost like a prairie dog sticking its head out of a burrow and looking around, another newcomer was sniffing the air and making its presence known. It also came with an awful-sounding name: anamorphic. So-called "anamorphic" widescreen (there is no such thing as anamorphic full-screen). So what the heck was this thing now, this anna-more-fickle business? Fortunately, the anamorphic process rescued us from what had been previously limited to 4:3 widescreen, and catapulted viewers into a whole new dimension of film quality known as, of course, anamorphic widescreen. The four screens below illustrate the dramatic differences between the original 4:3 widescreen and largely ubiquitous (nowadays) anamorphic widescreen displays.
4:3 widescreen on a 16x9 display.
Fig. 7. The 4:3 widescreen format from the early days of home video.
|
4:3 super-widescreen on a 16x9 display.
Fig. 8. The white screen area was intended to fit a standard 4:3 TV.
|
All of us who own some DVD movies, either a few or a lot, and have played them on our wide, flat-screen TV's, may have noticed how older widescreen films will often play differently (fill the screen differently) than do most of the newer discs. At a time when widescreen movies were becoming more and more prevalent, especially because increasingly popular laserdiscs touted widescreen as its format of choice, there was virtually no such thing as a widescreen TV. Having long ago gravitated to the widescreen format, I always went for that option if there was a choice when buying a movie. For more than a decade, I enjoyed watching widescreen movies on my 25" TV, then a 27", and finally on one of those 35" models, I talk about. As time went along, I began to notice some new descriptions that accompanied the widescreen movies I was watching. Plus a difference -- and improvement -- in the picture quality itself.
Anamorphic DVD full-screen 16x9 format.
1.85:1 movies plus 1.78:1 films and TV programs fill a 16x9 screen.
|
Anamorphic super-widescreen 16x9 format.
Ultra-wide "scope" films leave bars top and bottom of 16x9 screens.
|
Look on the back of many widescreen DVD's and you'll see the words, "Enhanced for widescreen TVs". You also might see the words, "Anamorphic widescreen" or "Enhanced for 16x9 widescreen TVs". All three mean the same thing which refers to the anamorphic process, which in turn means little more than the conversion of a widescreen film into a high quality, 16x9 format. It's a lot more than that, but for ye and me, that's all we need to know. This is why even on my standard 4:3 TV, the anamorphic version of a widescreen film looked superior to its non-anamorphic (4:3 widescreen) counterpart.
Interestingly (to be polite) different movie studios distributed widescreen movies in an entirely haphazard, seemingly random, no rhyme or reason manner. Even in the earliest days of VHS and laserdisc widescreen releases, films were produced in the two, entirely different widescreen formats I've described. Some were the older 4:3 widescreen style, while still others were already anamorphically enhanced -- long before there was a need to do so. Some of my oldest DVDs boast a beautiful anamorphic widescreen picture (most don't) and some of my newest DVD's (mainly new releases of older titles) carry antiquated, obsolete 4:3 widescreen formats. Even so, on any given Sunday, any older, less-than-recent widescreen DVD is likely to display one format or the other -- unless it specifically says "enhanced", "16x9", or "anamorphic". Lastly, you've probably also noticed that lots of DVD's contain both a widescreen and pan-and-scan version of the same film on the same disc. Which changes nothing I've said here. In any event, I hope the illustrations above make a lot more sense to you than maybe they once did. Or didn't.
Interestingly (to be polite) different movie studios distributed widescreen movies in an entirely haphazard, seemingly random, no rhyme or reason manner. Even in the earliest days of VHS and laserdisc widescreen releases, films were produced in the two, entirely different widescreen formats I've described. Some were the older 4:3 widescreen style, while still others were already anamorphically enhanced -- long before there was a need to do so. Some of my oldest DVDs boast a beautiful anamorphic widescreen picture (most don't) and some of my newest DVD's (mainly new releases of older titles) carry antiquated, obsolete 4:3 widescreen formats. Even so, on any given Sunday, any older, less-than-recent widescreen DVD is likely to display one format or the other -- unless it specifically says "enhanced", "16x9", or "anamorphic". Lastly, you've probably also noticed that lots of DVD's contain both a widescreen and pan-and-scan version of the same film on the same disc. Which changes nothing I've said here. In any event, I hope the illustrations above make a lot more sense to you than maybe they once did. Or didn't.
Remotely Interesting
By the way, don't misuse (or abuse) your ability to manually alter the aspect ratio of what you're watching (unless you know what you're doing). In other words do as I say, not as I do. Most widescreen TVs have a "zoom" feature accessed via your remote control. The remote can also change the size and shape of your screen image from among a small or large range of options depending on the widescreen TV make and model. More than once, I've witnessed someone watching a 4:3 pan-and-scan movie (where black bars appear on either side of the picture) and use their remote to "stretch" the image so it occupies the full width of the TV screen. This (of course) distorts the image and will generally diminish and degrade the TV-watching experience. Likewise, people will also use the 16x9 remote setting to stretch a 4:3 widescreen 1.85:1 or 4:3 widescreen 2.35:1 movie so they fill both sides of the screen. This once again distorts (and ruins) the integrity of the film's native format.
When your widescreen TV is properly configured, broadcast (cable) TV shows will automatically display in the correct aspect ratio. Most shows are still shown in both the older 4:3 standard, and the newer high-definition format which usually completely fills a 16x9 screen. Even high-definition movies, however, if they're super-widescreen, will leave bars at the top and bottom. I've noticed that the latest trend which is fast becoming the norm, is for all TV shows to be displayed in the 1.78:1 (16x9) widescreen mode. On a high-definition TV channel, a 16x9 screen is (usually) totally filled. Watching the same show on a regular, non-high-definition channel displays a (quaint) 4:3 widescreen 1.85:1 picture. This means that blank bars not only appear on both top and bottom, but also left and right sides; the image is surrounded by empty space. Which is typical (as you now know) when showing any non-anamorphic widescreen picture on a 16x9 screen. Otherwise known as a 4:3 widescreen image.
The one exception to my Robert's rules-of-the-remote is as follows: Sometimes a movie doesn't state anywhere on the front or back cover as to the proper screen format of the film. Whether on purpose or an oversight, it just doesn't say. It also happens more often than you might think, that movies are mislabeled. I've seen widescreen movies listed as pan-and-scan "full-screen" and just as often, full-screen movies labeled as widescreen. Just to screw with us, studios now refer to the "full-screen DVD format", which is actually a 16x9, 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Pity the poor souls (like me) who's always referred to full-screen as meaning either pan-and-scan or the standard 4:3 format. One of the reasons why I've gone to all this trouble to explain things is precisely because the idiots (to be polite) just won't stop messing with the language. But I digress. As I was saying, sometimes it's hard to distinguish whether a movie was shot in widescreen mode or not. And if the case or artwork doesn't say, I've had to use the remote to switch back and forth between 16x9 and 4:3 a few times before I was sure one way or another. Usually the actors' shoulders are too wide, or better yet, if circles are ovals -- or vice versa -- that makes it easy. If clock faces, car tires, or the moon looks horizontally oval (slightly flattened) instead of perfect circles, then the picture is stretched and should be shown in the 4:3 format setting via your remote. On the other clock hand, if circles are vertically oval (the sides are slightly squished or squeezed inward) then a 16x9 format is incorrectly set at 4:3.
So, see how simple this stuff is? I keep telling people so, but no one believes me. But now you have this Wyvern Multiplex site to use as your personal guide. You might also consider memorizing everything here, then go spout off among your friends, dazzling them with your brilliant knowledge of the subject matter. Just a thought. Take it or leave it.
When your widescreen TV is properly configured, broadcast (cable) TV shows will automatically display in the correct aspect ratio. Most shows are still shown in both the older 4:3 standard, and the newer high-definition format which usually completely fills a 16x9 screen. Even high-definition movies, however, if they're super-widescreen, will leave bars at the top and bottom. I've noticed that the latest trend which is fast becoming the norm, is for all TV shows to be displayed in the 1.78:1 (16x9) widescreen mode. On a high-definition TV channel, a 16x9 screen is (usually) totally filled. Watching the same show on a regular, non-high-definition channel displays a (quaint) 4:3 widescreen 1.85:1 picture. This means that blank bars not only appear on both top and bottom, but also left and right sides; the image is surrounded by empty space. Which is typical (as you now know) when showing any non-anamorphic widescreen picture on a 16x9 screen. Otherwise known as a 4:3 widescreen image.
The one exception to my Robert's rules-of-the-remote is as follows: Sometimes a movie doesn't state anywhere on the front or back cover as to the proper screen format of the film. Whether on purpose or an oversight, it just doesn't say. It also happens more often than you might think, that movies are mislabeled. I've seen widescreen movies listed as pan-and-scan "full-screen" and just as often, full-screen movies labeled as widescreen. Just to screw with us, studios now refer to the "full-screen DVD format", which is actually a 16x9, 1.78:1 aspect ratio. Pity the poor souls (like me) who's always referred to full-screen as meaning either pan-and-scan or the standard 4:3 format. One of the reasons why I've gone to all this trouble to explain things is precisely because the idiots (to be polite) just won't stop messing with the language. But I digress. As I was saying, sometimes it's hard to distinguish whether a movie was shot in widescreen mode or not. And if the case or artwork doesn't say, I've had to use the remote to switch back and forth between 16x9 and 4:3 a few times before I was sure one way or another. Usually the actors' shoulders are too wide, or better yet, if circles are ovals -- or vice versa -- that makes it easy. If clock faces, car tires, or the moon looks horizontally oval (slightly flattened) instead of perfect circles, then the picture is stretched and should be shown in the 4:3 format setting via your remote. On the other clock hand, if circles are vertically oval (the sides are slightly squished or squeezed inward) then a 16x9 format is incorrectly set at 4:3.
So, see how simple this stuff is? I keep telling people so, but no one believes me. But now you have this Wyvern Multiplex site to use as your personal guide. You might also consider memorizing everything here, then go spout off among your friends, dazzling them with your brilliant knowledge of the subject matter. Just a thought. Take it or leave it.
Gimme a break: When so-called "projection" TV's (also known as "big screens") first appeared on the scene (I forget when) they mimicked the square shape of traditional TV's. They came in two models: front or rear projection. What's interesting is that in the latter heydays of rear projection, shortly before the advent of all the newer TV technologies such as Plasma and LCD, projection TV screens had already converted to the widescreen format. I don't know what the aspect ratio was and I'm too lazy to look it up. If it wasn't 16x9, it was pretty close to that. The largest CRT (cathode-ray-tube) standard TV picture tube (4:3) made was the huge and heavy 35" (measured diagonally). For reasons too technical to explain here (plus I don't know what they are) the CRT did not accommodate a widescreen shape and none were ever produced. This paved the way for two things: the extinction of the standard projection TV and the literal onslaught of the new and affordable flat-screen TV's.
A (mercifully) BRIEF HISTORY Of HOME ENTERTAINMENT
One of my earliest introductions to home entertainment video occurred when I was very young, around 6 or 7-years-old. This was still some time before TV’s were commonplace – or in other words, shortly after the wheel was invented. We had a rich uncle or aunt “back east” somewhere – Detroit, I think – and to this day, I still remember the excitement of seeing a rather large machine in the middle of a basement floor, and a big white pull-down screen not far away. I even remember the movie that was shown: It Came from Outer Space (1953) starring Richard Carlson and Barbara Rush. Many years later I would learn that the “projector” was 16mm, complete with sound, and that such home entertainment devices were indeed common household items among those who were relatively well-off financially. Even during the 1920’s, 30’s, and 40’s, it wasn’t all that unusual for (affluent) people to watch films of all kinds in the privacy of their homes.
By the way, if you think your super cool home stereo system is smokin’ hot, those old fogies from days-gone-by had us all beat long before anyone knew a woofer as anything other than a dog. Try having your fave live band right inside your living room. Or your favorite string quartet, piano recital, even a small orchestra with live soloists and choirs playing for your exclusive enjoyment – inside your home. Now that’s a good stereo. And that’s how popular music was done long before newer and larger radios and record players squeaked out their first tunes. But at a time when movies could only be seen in theaters, watching a full-blown Hollywood production in your home was quite the thing in its day. With the advent of 8mm film in the sixties, however, and a decent TV owned by most middle-class families, the big and clumsy 16mm machines with reels big as large pizzas, would fade from the scene in the exact same manner as did VHS video and 8-track audio during the 1970’s, 80’s, and 90’s. But those are all their own stories and no less interesting than the advent of laser video discs and the latest tech on the horizon: ultra high-definition widescreen TV’s -- and 22x9 aspect ratios. Don't worry, we're not going anywhere near any of that.
Which returns us to the subject matter at hand. Which is how and why we went from square TV’s and Super-8 home video, much of it without sound, to where things are today – namely a confusing and frustrating (albeit exciting) mash-up of widescreen TV’s, DVD’s, Blu-ray's, and a multitude of screen sizes, shapes, and formats. Strange terms like aspect ratio, full-screen, pan and scan, anamorphic, 16 by 9 widescreen, high definition and surround-sound are no longer the parlance of videophiles, but aimed instead at the average consumer – most of whom are still struggling to understand how to both use the jargon and the technology itself. I am frequently surprised by how many people have the “tools” in place, but with little or no idea of how to enjoy the full benefits of the equipment they own. Or likewise, the tremendous improvements they're still missing.
As someone who’s been scrapping with this stuff for the last 50 years and gone through each new (and expensive) innovation that’s come along every decade, I’ve become somewhat of a begrudging (and grouchy) pseudo-expert who’s spent a lot of money over those years, all while trying to decipher stacks of largely incomprehensible user manuals. Thus my intention here is to offer some insights, helpful tips, and explanations that will hopefully cut-through the murky miasma of modern-day home entertainment offerings. If possible, maybe clear the air a little for somebody who feels as lost as I did at one time.
So-called widescreen TV’s finally sounded the death knell for traditional square TV’s during the mid-1990’s and except for the brief spate of bulky 35” CRT (cathode-ray-tube) sets, the obsolescence of standard TV’s was a done deal. As the price of the 35-inchers came down (from $2500 to $350) and with widescreens still hovering at $5000 to $3000, I finally made the jump from the 27” standard model TV to the incredible 35” job; "big screen" TV's as they were affectionately called, which included primitive projection models as well; they were all quite impressive in their day. But I need to back-track a bit and not jump too far ahead of myself.
By the way, if you think your super cool home stereo system is smokin’ hot, those old fogies from days-gone-by had us all beat long before anyone knew a woofer as anything other than a dog. Try having your fave live band right inside your living room. Or your favorite string quartet, piano recital, even a small orchestra with live soloists and choirs playing for your exclusive enjoyment – inside your home. Now that’s a good stereo. And that’s how popular music was done long before newer and larger radios and record players squeaked out their first tunes. But at a time when movies could only be seen in theaters, watching a full-blown Hollywood production in your home was quite the thing in its day. With the advent of 8mm film in the sixties, however, and a decent TV owned by most middle-class families, the big and clumsy 16mm machines with reels big as large pizzas, would fade from the scene in the exact same manner as did VHS video and 8-track audio during the 1970’s, 80’s, and 90’s. But those are all their own stories and no less interesting than the advent of laser video discs and the latest tech on the horizon: ultra high-definition widescreen TV’s -- and 22x9 aspect ratios. Don't worry, we're not going anywhere near any of that.
Which returns us to the subject matter at hand. Which is how and why we went from square TV’s and Super-8 home video, much of it without sound, to where things are today – namely a confusing and frustrating (albeit exciting) mash-up of widescreen TV’s, DVD’s, Blu-ray's, and a multitude of screen sizes, shapes, and formats. Strange terms like aspect ratio, full-screen, pan and scan, anamorphic, 16 by 9 widescreen, high definition and surround-sound are no longer the parlance of videophiles, but aimed instead at the average consumer – most of whom are still struggling to understand how to both use the jargon and the technology itself. I am frequently surprised by how many people have the “tools” in place, but with little or no idea of how to enjoy the full benefits of the equipment they own. Or likewise, the tremendous improvements they're still missing.
As someone who’s been scrapping with this stuff for the last 50 years and gone through each new (and expensive) innovation that’s come along every decade, I’ve become somewhat of a begrudging (and grouchy) pseudo-expert who’s spent a lot of money over those years, all while trying to decipher stacks of largely incomprehensible user manuals. Thus my intention here is to offer some insights, helpful tips, and explanations that will hopefully cut-through the murky miasma of modern-day home entertainment offerings. If possible, maybe clear the air a little for somebody who feels as lost as I did at one time.
So-called widescreen TV’s finally sounded the death knell for traditional square TV’s during the mid-1990’s and except for the brief spate of bulky 35” CRT (cathode-ray-tube) sets, the obsolescence of standard TV’s was a done deal. As the price of the 35-inchers came down (from $2500 to $350) and with widescreens still hovering at $5000 to $3000, I finally made the jump from the 27” standard model TV to the incredible 35” job; "big screen" TV's as they were affectionately called, which included primitive projection models as well; they were all quite impressive in their day. But I need to back-track a bit and not jump too far ahead of myself.
The TECH WARS
Until the arrival of widescreen TV’s, the “square” (sometimes round) television picture remained virtually unchanged for almost 60 years. The shape of televisions was not only a reflection of the average movie screens found in most theaters back in the day, but had a practical value as well. The cathode-ray-tube which made the TV picture (tube) possible in the first place, needed to be either round or square-ish as a matter of the technical limitations involved. In fact, televisions were so “sensitive” to size and shape, that TV picture tubes were “locked” in place between 20 and 30 inches in size for most of their existence. It wasn’t until the 35-inch “breakthrough” came along that larger sizes were finally possible. And by then, it was too late; widescreen and high-definition were already making their presence known.
During the interim, the few major improvements in standard television had included an increasingly better color picture, slightly improved sound, and clearer, sharper images. Broadcast quality also improved, but like TV’s themselves, the pace was slow and painful. For three straight decades – 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, it seemed (to me) that television remained at a technological standstill. Something needed to give the whole industry the proverbial kick-in-the-butt. That’s about the time Sony came out with the first Betamax video tape player/recorder for home use.
A brief history of VHS and Betamax is a story worth telling. One that will eventually bring into play (pun intended) the video optical disc – the short-lived "Laserdisc" as it was called. And the even shorter-lived RCA Videodisc. For those unfamiliar with the saga, it wasn’t long before Sony’s superior Betamax technology, and the competing (and inferior) VHS format people were in a heated, combative war for who would reign victorious in the battle for the home video market. And for the millions of consumers eager to watch STAR WARS from the comfort of their living room couch. That whole idea, popular in the 1920’s and 30’s – of watching movies in the comfort of one’s own home – had returned. Indeed, it sometimes seems like the more things change, the more they remain the same.
As a quick aside, I still recall when STAR WARS IV first arrived at my local video store on VHS. At over $200.00, I don't think the tape was even in stereo or widescreen. The picture certainly wasn’t a match for so-called broadcast quality television when movies were shown on your local channel. Ah, yes, those were the days. I hated them because I couldn’t afford to buy my own coveted copy of STAR WARS IV. But I digress.
Back to our tale of the ongoing clash between Sony and the rest of the world. And here’s where events took a strange, totally bizarre turn. One that would result in a billion dollar loss for Sony and the explosion of VHS tapes and recorders for the next twenty years. The story is likely part urban myth, but at its core, however, are kernels of truth that I believe involved the essential facts of the case.
There’s always been a dark side to the film industry ever since Thomas Edison filmed The Kiss in 1896. The silent, black and white featurette foretold the explosion of another industry that would evolve from its initial beginnings as French postcards, and grow over the next hundred years to become the most profitable, highest grossing uber-industry in the world. Namely pornography. Surprised? If not, the next little factoid may do the trick for you.
It wasn’t long before the porn entrepreneurs saw the potential of expanding their “product” into the home video marketplace. Why? Well, one of the reasons was because during the 1960’s and 70’s men (and women) had to “sneak” into what were called “Pussycat” theaters if they wanted to see the latest adult movie fare. Porn had recently been legitimized which meant that a fertile (and extremely lucrative) home market was just sitting out there waiting to be tapped. In a very real sense, the counter-culture’s demand for pornography has remained a consistent, driving force propelling ever more sophisticated technologies capable of producing the best possible image quality for their particular type of films.
During the interim, the few major improvements in standard television had included an increasingly better color picture, slightly improved sound, and clearer, sharper images. Broadcast quality also improved, but like TV’s themselves, the pace was slow and painful. For three straight decades – 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, it seemed (to me) that television remained at a technological standstill. Something needed to give the whole industry the proverbial kick-in-the-butt. That’s about the time Sony came out with the first Betamax video tape player/recorder for home use.
A brief history of VHS and Betamax is a story worth telling. One that will eventually bring into play (pun intended) the video optical disc – the short-lived "Laserdisc" as it was called. And the even shorter-lived RCA Videodisc. For those unfamiliar with the saga, it wasn’t long before Sony’s superior Betamax technology, and the competing (and inferior) VHS format people were in a heated, combative war for who would reign victorious in the battle for the home video market. And for the millions of consumers eager to watch STAR WARS from the comfort of their living room couch. That whole idea, popular in the 1920’s and 30’s – of watching movies in the comfort of one’s own home – had returned. Indeed, it sometimes seems like the more things change, the more they remain the same.
As a quick aside, I still recall when STAR WARS IV first arrived at my local video store on VHS. At over $200.00, I don't think the tape was even in stereo or widescreen. The picture certainly wasn’t a match for so-called broadcast quality television when movies were shown on your local channel. Ah, yes, those were the days. I hated them because I couldn’t afford to buy my own coveted copy of STAR WARS IV. But I digress.
Back to our tale of the ongoing clash between Sony and the rest of the world. And here’s where events took a strange, totally bizarre turn. One that would result in a billion dollar loss for Sony and the explosion of VHS tapes and recorders for the next twenty years. The story is likely part urban myth, but at its core, however, are kernels of truth that I believe involved the essential facts of the case.
There’s always been a dark side to the film industry ever since Thomas Edison filmed The Kiss in 1896. The silent, black and white featurette foretold the explosion of another industry that would evolve from its initial beginnings as French postcards, and grow over the next hundred years to become the most profitable, highest grossing uber-industry in the world. Namely pornography. Surprised? If not, the next little factoid may do the trick for you.
It wasn’t long before the porn entrepreneurs saw the potential of expanding their “product” into the home video marketplace. Why? Well, one of the reasons was because during the 1960’s and 70’s men (and women) had to “sneak” into what were called “Pussycat” theaters if they wanted to see the latest adult movie fare. Porn had recently been legitimized which meant that a fertile (and extremely lucrative) home market was just sitting out there waiting to be tapped. In a very real sense, the counter-culture’s demand for pornography has remained a consistent, driving force propelling ever more sophisticated technologies capable of producing the best possible image quality for their particular type of films.
Fig. 11. Scotch was among the better brand-name tapes. But so was late-to-the-party Sony.
|
Fig. 12. The standard (blank/recordable) VHS tape.
|
A stack of "pre-recorded" commercially made tapes.
|
Average price for a blank VHS video tape circa early 1980's? $30.00. Today? $1.99 (if that).
Only secondarily in many respects, does the public-at-large derive the subsequent, leftover benefits of the strides made for the sake of turning out pornographic films with the clearest, most realistic images money and research could buy. Just the picture quality you’re looking for, however, if you’re a STAR WARS fan. And compared to the limited ranks of adults standing in line at their local Pussycat cinema, there was virtually an unlimited number of these mainstream folks chomping on the bit – whose wallets were fat and waiting. It was a match made in heaven. So to speak.
Sony’s Betamax was the logical choice for the adult film industry. Higher quality, better machines, and a solid, established company manufacturing their tapes. But who could have possibly guessed the next chapter in this modern soap opera? I bet you’ll be shocked if you don’t already know what happened. Sony refused to have their technology used for the propagation of what they saw as an unsavory, even immoral business. Can you imagine the reaction on the part of the VHS people? (for whom similar scruples had never been a problem) I’m sure you could hear the Champagne bottles popping corks all over town once word of Sony’s ill-fated decision hit the news. I say “ill-fated” because it would only be a matter of another few years before Japan itself would become one of the world leaders in the sale and production of adult-oriented films – no pun intended and how’s that for irony?
So the pornographers went with the other guys. The VHS people who were more than eager to join ranks. And as you might guess, everybody (but Sony) made so much money in the process, that everyone got into the act and started reproducing high-quality (for its time) mainstream Hollywood productions on VHS – for all age groups. Then they made even more money, mostly on rentals at first. That’s when we saw the explosion of small rental stores, then chains like Blockbuster and others. Still in its infancy, the VHS industry wouldn’t produce affordable films (for purchase) for another ten years. I remember when a select number of films would be released during a given month when the price would be $20-$30 and we thought that was a steal. Most movies were $80 to $100 dollars. If they were even for sale, and many weren’t. “For rental only” was taken very seriously back in the day. Even blank tapes, required for recordings, were outrageously expensive. I remember buying just one and how exciting it was to actually own a recordable tape that could be used over and over again.
Sony’s Betamax was the logical choice for the adult film industry. Higher quality, better machines, and a solid, established company manufacturing their tapes. But who could have possibly guessed the next chapter in this modern soap opera? I bet you’ll be shocked if you don’t already know what happened. Sony refused to have their technology used for the propagation of what they saw as an unsavory, even immoral business. Can you imagine the reaction on the part of the VHS people? (for whom similar scruples had never been a problem) I’m sure you could hear the Champagne bottles popping corks all over town once word of Sony’s ill-fated decision hit the news. I say “ill-fated” because it would only be a matter of another few years before Japan itself would become one of the world leaders in the sale and production of adult-oriented films – no pun intended and how’s that for irony?
So the pornographers went with the other guys. The VHS people who were more than eager to join ranks. And as you might guess, everybody (but Sony) made so much money in the process, that everyone got into the act and started reproducing high-quality (for its time) mainstream Hollywood productions on VHS – for all age groups. Then they made even more money, mostly on rentals at first. That’s when we saw the explosion of small rental stores, then chains like Blockbuster and others. Still in its infancy, the VHS industry wouldn’t produce affordable films (for purchase) for another ten years. I remember when a select number of films would be released during a given month when the price would be $20-$30 and we thought that was a steal. Most movies were $80 to $100 dollars. If they were even for sale, and many weren’t. “For rental only” was taken very seriously back in the day. Even blank tapes, required for recordings, were outrageously expensive. I remember buying just one and how exciting it was to actually own a recordable tape that could be used over and over again.
Fig. 14. Ouch. That's gotta hurt.
Proposed by Hollywood moguls of the time (late eighties, early nineties) a failed attempt was made to prevent people from buying movies on VHS altogether. The idea pushed by then MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) president, Jack Valenti, was to make them available as rentals only – forever. How bone-headed a concept was that? Yet it was seriously considered for a while. The transition period that covered the constant and increasing advent of new technologies coming online, so to speak, was chaotic, unregulated, and represented a certain disregard for, and victimization of, an entertainment hungry (and technology illiterate) public. The situation reached a peak of absurdity once it became technically possible for average consumers to make “duplicate” copies of rented movies.
Rental shops were totally paranoid of people copying their tapes or disassembling the cases and returning them with blank spools inside. Almost seems humorous now, but it was still thievery and that's never funny -- ever. To combat the widespread problem, dozens of different methods were employed to eliminate the theft and/or resale of expensive, commercially made tapes.
One of the most obnoxious and onerous was developed by Disney, I believe, and spread quickly until most of the major studio tapes utilized the so-named “copy-protection” system. This was when I and a lot of others stopped buying VHS tapes. The utterly idiotic idea employed an embedded electronic signal that would prevent the tape from being copied. It also ruined the image quality and often made the tapes unplayable or unwatchable in our player/recorders and on our TV's. A nasty, black-market “game” ensued where people invented, bought and sold various gizmos and gadgets, all of them designed to defeat the copy-guard signal that in most cases, screwed-up commercial VHS videos. Items we had paid good money for. So in the end, who was really robbing whom?
I was furious. Just when the prices had come down too. What a shame. What a rip-off. The whole system was now hit and miss as well. You never knew which tape would be “protected” because a lot of them still weren’t and never would be. Especially once the big stupid studios caught wind that people weren’t buying their bull – or their tapes anymore. I’ve still got a couple dozen brand new tapes, mostly Disney, watched once (or less) where the copy-protection circuitry is so bad that the films are barely watchable, if that. I couldn’t watch them. Not with a top portion of the screen jiggling back and forth, jumping all around, bending and streaking – throughout the whole damn movie. Disney still owes me my money back far as I'm concerned. As a result, my friends and I had been eyeing another new technology that was growing in popularity. We had lots of company, too. The adult film market, in particular, had been watching it also.
Rental shops were totally paranoid of people copying their tapes or disassembling the cases and returning them with blank spools inside. Almost seems humorous now, but it was still thievery and that's never funny -- ever. To combat the widespread problem, dozens of different methods were employed to eliminate the theft and/or resale of expensive, commercially made tapes.
One of the most obnoxious and onerous was developed by Disney, I believe, and spread quickly until most of the major studio tapes utilized the so-named “copy-protection” system. This was when I and a lot of others stopped buying VHS tapes. The utterly idiotic idea employed an embedded electronic signal that would prevent the tape from being copied. It also ruined the image quality and often made the tapes unplayable or unwatchable in our player/recorders and on our TV's. A nasty, black-market “game” ensued where people invented, bought and sold various gizmos and gadgets, all of them designed to defeat the copy-guard signal that in most cases, screwed-up commercial VHS videos. Items we had paid good money for. So in the end, who was really robbing whom?
I was furious. Just when the prices had come down too. What a shame. What a rip-off. The whole system was now hit and miss as well. You never knew which tape would be “protected” because a lot of them still weren’t and never would be. Especially once the big stupid studios caught wind that people weren’t buying their bull – or their tapes anymore. I’ve still got a couple dozen brand new tapes, mostly Disney, watched once (or less) where the copy-protection circuitry is so bad that the films are barely watchable, if that. I couldn’t watch them. Not with a top portion of the screen jiggling back and forth, jumping all around, bending and streaking – throughout the whole damn movie. Disney still owes me my money back far as I'm concerned. As a result, my friends and I had been eyeing another new technology that was growing in popularity. We had lots of company, too. The adult film market, in particular, had been watching it also.
PIONEERING the Future
Spearheaded by the well known and respected Japanese company, Pioneer, the new kid on the block was cutting-edge techno-wizardry called a laser-disc that promised superior picture and sound quality. Well that was definitely music to the eyes and ears of the pornographers who, as I mentioned, are always looking to improve their wares. They didn’t care, of course, about the virtues of improving the technology, only that their clients always wanted the best image quality possible. And were willing to pay top dollar for it. This new laser technology looked to be just the ticket – the exciting new wave of the future. Which it was and would be for a brief but glorious span of years. Until it was eventually replaced by its own spawn, spun off by the very technology the laser people themselves had developed. Namely the Digital Versatile Disc. Or DVD for short.
Trivia break: So you think the engineers who design all this technical stuff are smart? Think again. The reason the DVD is not called a Digital Video Disc as most people think of it, is because the format was also originally intended for use as a high quality audio medium. When the audio-only music versions of DVD’s were finally rolled out, they wouldn’t play on standard DVD players. No, you had to buy a special (and expensive) new player for that. So not only did the new music discs cost more than standard CD’s, which they were supposed to replace, but they required a new and separate player as well. How's that for innovation and ingenuity? Not! It was stupid and, as you might imagine, a total flop. Now a whole new high-definition musical experience is soon to hit the marketplace. Complete with the new player you’ll have to buy. Ain’t technology grand? No, but that’s what it will cost you – that and many times over.
Back to our story. Interestingly the optical laserdisc and its bulky players (consumer-level recorders didn’t exist and never would) nearly failed before the technology had even begun. The Pioneer company was literally on the verge of “dumping” the whole business as a promising but unprofitable venture. People weren’t willing to pay the extra costs and expenses for movies more like large records than relatively small tapes. Even if they were a lot better. Tapes were much cheaper. And you could record TV shows. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the available movie titles both for rent and sale were scant at best. Studios weren’t anxious to get involved in the unproven laserdisc arena. Wanna take a guess as to who rescued the business? Who saved the laserdisc from the junk heap which then allowed the DVD (and all the rest of it) to evolve that much sooner? That’s right, pixel breath. The adult film market. Or as purists like to say, the pornographers. Once more the adult film industry found a lucrative niche where its loyal enclave of customers could relish the much improved video, sound quality, and clarity offered by laser technology.
Many of us oldsters may remember walking into our local video rental shop where VHS tapes and laserdiscs might have filled the room, each cramming their own racks and begging for attention. Something else was also there, in that same room. Which was another room. It had curtains, was blocked off from the rest, and usually boasted signs in one form or another, all of them warning that the room was for “adults only” and contained XXX-rated material. Originally available only on VHS, the tapes were eventually joined by the laserdiscs in question. I look back at those days and have to smile at how quaint, how “wild west” the whole business was. But it worked. I recall a store owner telling me how his video business was revived by laserdiscs, but especially by the exclusive clientele who purchased adult titles over the phone, yet never set foot in his store. And so it went. Business was once more booming – and banging – if you’ll excuse the pun.
Trivia break: So you think the engineers who design all this technical stuff are smart? Think again. The reason the DVD is not called a Digital Video Disc as most people think of it, is because the format was also originally intended for use as a high quality audio medium. When the audio-only music versions of DVD’s were finally rolled out, they wouldn’t play on standard DVD players. No, you had to buy a special (and expensive) new player for that. So not only did the new music discs cost more than standard CD’s, which they were supposed to replace, but they required a new and separate player as well. How's that for innovation and ingenuity? Not! It was stupid and, as you might imagine, a total flop. Now a whole new high-definition musical experience is soon to hit the marketplace. Complete with the new player you’ll have to buy. Ain’t technology grand? No, but that’s what it will cost you – that and many times over.
Back to our story. Interestingly the optical laserdisc and its bulky players (consumer-level recorders didn’t exist and never would) nearly failed before the technology had even begun. The Pioneer company was literally on the verge of “dumping” the whole business as a promising but unprofitable venture. People weren’t willing to pay the extra costs and expenses for movies more like large records than relatively small tapes. Even if they were a lot better. Tapes were much cheaper. And you could record TV shows. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the available movie titles both for rent and sale were scant at best. Studios weren’t anxious to get involved in the unproven laserdisc arena. Wanna take a guess as to who rescued the business? Who saved the laserdisc from the junk heap which then allowed the DVD (and all the rest of it) to evolve that much sooner? That’s right, pixel breath. The adult film market. Or as purists like to say, the pornographers. Once more the adult film industry found a lucrative niche where its loyal enclave of customers could relish the much improved video, sound quality, and clarity offered by laser technology.
Many of us oldsters may remember walking into our local video rental shop where VHS tapes and laserdiscs might have filled the room, each cramming their own racks and begging for attention. Something else was also there, in that same room. Which was another room. It had curtains, was blocked off from the rest, and usually boasted signs in one form or another, all of them warning that the room was for “adults only” and contained XXX-rated material. Originally available only on VHS, the tapes were eventually joined by the laserdiscs in question. I look back at those days and have to smile at how quaint, how “wild west” the whole business was. But it worked. I recall a store owner telling me how his video business was revived by laserdiscs, but especially by the exclusive clientele who purchased adult titles over the phone, yet never set foot in his store. And so it went. Business was once more booming – and banging – if you’ll excuse the pun.
Laser with DVD on the right.
|
Fig. 16. Average price of a laserdisc: $30-$60. Value of a great TV picture and sound: Priceless. Laserdiscs also had what were called "chapters" and fast-forward scanning which gave near instant access to various parts of a movie. VHS offered no similar options. Good quality "pause" and "still" pictures were also a welcome advance over tapes which were easily damaged. Laserdiscs suffered no wear from normal usage.
|
First pan & scan edition of STAR WARS. Three more widescreen versions would follow.
|
Of THINGS To COME
Laserdiscs were the relatively short-lived wunderkind that not only offered a significantly improved picture with better color and detail, but the sheer size of the disc (the same as a standard phonograph record) afforded lots of space to put stuff, like digital information of both picture and sound. On VHS tapes, everything was crowded together to conserve size and space, but laserdiscs had gobs of room for everything. Well, almost, but the idea wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Most DVD audio offers what is called, 5.1 Dolby Digital Surround-Sound (or DTS in some cases). These replaced the nice (but inferior) “Hi-Fi” stereo that later versions of VHS would utilize. Which, of course, required special stereo amplifiers. Laserdiscs introduced the vastly superior AC-3 sound system which is today’s 5.1 standard on DVD’s and Blu-rays. Both of which require a special stereo amplifier. Are you starting to see why I was pissed off most of the time? And still am most of the time. My big, hot-shot Sony Blu-ray machine, after playing a handful of Blu-ray discs, decided to shut down, stop playing, and hasn’t worked since. Hey, Sony still has to recoup the money they lost on Betamax. Don’t get me started.
The history (and proper installation) of Dolby Digital surround-sound (or DTS) would require its own essay, which I’ll spare my readers for the time being. It is, however, every bit as colorful as the story behind VHS, Laserdisc, and DVD video. When time permits, I’ll share what I know. And try not to get too pissed off all over again.
Here’s another story about the waning, dying days of VHS tape, when laserdiscs had taken over as the medium of choice. First imagine walking into a Blockbuster and seeing these big record album things taking up more and more space in their stores, and steadily crowding out the sloppy congestion of old and used VHS tapes. By the way, the rental stores were selling off their used tapes by now, sometimes pretty cheap, but that’s still another account we don’t have time for. Anyway, as I was saying, in the “last days” of VHS, the studios tried desperately to compete with what laserdiscs were really good at offering their customers. Namely this relatively new thing called “widescreen” movies. We were all used to watching movies on television, never realizing we were seeing only a “middle” portion of the complete movie, which had both sides cut-off so as to fit our square TV’s. The difference between what I saw at the movie theater and didn’t see at home never really dawned on me until I saw it for myself and then had it explained to me.
Unknown to me at the time, a duplication process called “pan and scan” had converted all our favorite movies into a compressed, condensed version of the original. So it only made sense that when these same movies were transcribed to VHS video, they’d look the same on our TV’s as they always did. That was until some wisenheimer came along and ruined everything – by revealing the truth of what was really going on. Specifically that rectangular pegs don’t fit in square holes. Unless you cut the sides off. Or you could “shrink” the size of the rectangle until the whole thing fit inside the square. Which is precisely what happened. Only one problem: you were left with these embarrassing empty spaces at the top and bottom. And as I've been saying, that’s when the trouble really started.
People couldn’t understand (many still don’t) that those blank “spaces” were not parts of the movie that had been cut-off for some reason. How dare they strip out whole sections of a movie like that? Folks didn’t mind that those whole sections they were so worried about had always been carved off both sides of their movies; as long as the cuts had remained hidden. And who the heck wanted to squint their eyes and strain to see this little tiny strip of a movie running through the middle of their big 27” TV screen? Well, the whole business was not only chaotic back then, but persists to this very day. And represents a big reason why I’ve taken the time here to help – if I can. In some ways, it doesn't even seem possible that such a mishmash of confusing technologies were laid in the laps of the average consumer -- who was expected to pretty much figure things out on their own. Or pay to have others do it for them.
The history (and proper installation) of Dolby Digital surround-sound (or DTS) would require its own essay, which I’ll spare my readers for the time being. It is, however, every bit as colorful as the story behind VHS, Laserdisc, and DVD video. When time permits, I’ll share what I know. And try not to get too pissed off all over again.
Here’s another story about the waning, dying days of VHS tape, when laserdiscs had taken over as the medium of choice. First imagine walking into a Blockbuster and seeing these big record album things taking up more and more space in their stores, and steadily crowding out the sloppy congestion of old and used VHS tapes. By the way, the rental stores were selling off their used tapes by now, sometimes pretty cheap, but that’s still another account we don’t have time for. Anyway, as I was saying, in the “last days” of VHS, the studios tried desperately to compete with what laserdiscs were really good at offering their customers. Namely this relatively new thing called “widescreen” movies. We were all used to watching movies on television, never realizing we were seeing only a “middle” portion of the complete movie, which had both sides cut-off so as to fit our square TV’s. The difference between what I saw at the movie theater and didn’t see at home never really dawned on me until I saw it for myself and then had it explained to me.
Unknown to me at the time, a duplication process called “pan and scan” had converted all our favorite movies into a compressed, condensed version of the original. So it only made sense that when these same movies were transcribed to VHS video, they’d look the same on our TV’s as they always did. That was until some wisenheimer came along and ruined everything – by revealing the truth of what was really going on. Specifically that rectangular pegs don’t fit in square holes. Unless you cut the sides off. Or you could “shrink” the size of the rectangle until the whole thing fit inside the square. Which is precisely what happened. Only one problem: you were left with these embarrassing empty spaces at the top and bottom. And as I've been saying, that’s when the trouble really started.
People couldn’t understand (many still don’t) that those blank “spaces” were not parts of the movie that had been cut-off for some reason. How dare they strip out whole sections of a movie like that? Folks didn’t mind that those whole sections they were so worried about had always been carved off both sides of their movies; as long as the cuts had remained hidden. And who the heck wanted to squint their eyes and strain to see this little tiny strip of a movie running through the middle of their big 27” TV screen? Well, the whole business was not only chaotic back then, but persists to this very day. And represents a big reason why I’ve taken the time here to help – if I can. In some ways, it doesn't even seem possible that such a mishmash of confusing technologies were laid in the laps of the average consumer -- who was expected to pretty much figure things out on their own. Or pay to have others do it for them.
Less is Sometimes More
When displaying a widescreen movie on a traditional “square” TV, the image can appear pathetically small, being little more than a narrow strip that runs the full width of the screen, but leaves substantial (and empty) black bands (or bars) at the top and bottom. This did – and still does for many people – give the impression that parts of the picture are missing. In reality, of course, nothing could be further from the truth. Even on a nice, 27-inch TV, a widescreen version of something like STAR WARS was barely watchable. I still laugh when I think of how my brother-in-law and I walked into a Ken Crane’s electronics store in California and saw this new technology where widescreen movies could be shown not only on standard TV’s, but on some weird, new fangled (and very expensive) toy known as a widescreen TV. Large, so-called “projection” televisions were all the rage, and widescreen movies were obviously better on those. Less expensive projection sets were so dull and lifeless, however, that I always preferred a smaller picture that was brighter and somewhat clearer.
The point of my story, though, is that I didn’t like either of anything when I first saw them. And neither did my brother-in-law. While viewing STAR WARS: The Empire Strikes Back on one of these newer sets (I think it was a $10,000 widescreen demo TV) we both turned to the salesman and joked that nobody was ever going to watch little skinny movies on big giant TV’s. And we were serious. As well as naïve. Some guy across the room also chuckled at our comment. He said something to the effect, “You two have no idea what you’re talking about.” And we sure didn’t. But we soon learned better and quickly became huge advocates for buying widescreen movies whenever possible. We just needed to become educated, informed, and catch-up-to-speed with what was actually happening in the fast-changing world of home entertainment. A revolution was in progress, all around us, and we were finally catching on. Better late than never.
Some extra trivia: When former rental giant Blockbuster first started out, the company was owned by a religious family and refused to carry R-rated movies in any of their stores. Once the chain was sold, however, Blockbuster became almost infamous for its wide variety of titles including the best (or worst) of blood and gore exploitation films. When studios realized that the home video market was ripe for added adult-oriented material not included in the original theatrical film – the so-called “unrated” version – all bets were off. Not only were consumers now faced with a choice between widescreen and full-screen, but the rated and unrated, director's and extended-cut versions as well. More than once I was “burned” after paying full price for a rated (theatrical cut), full-screen, pan-and-scan movie, only to find out later that a widescreen, unrated “home video” version was available for the same exact price. Things slowly got better, but for collectors like me, it took years before I got a handle on the craziness. Even today, I still get caught once in a while and it still drives me crazy.
By the way, as another related aside, RCA briefly got into the optical “disc” revolution and invented and manufactured their own version of a laser disc. Well, sort of. It didn’t really have a laser. It used a replaceable “needle” that played the disc like it was a standard music record. Did it work? For a while. Until it failed miserably and RCA lost a gazillion dollars on a dumb idea that should never have seen the light of day to begin with.
Speaking of failures, before I got a little sidetracked by ducking into that Ken Cranes store, I was discussing the waning days of VHS video tapes. Not because it’s simply historical in nature, but because it has a direct bearing on the whole widescreen topic under review. Studios made a last-ditch effort to produce widescreen VHS movies, but it was too little, too late. The laserdisc was winning the day, had won the battle, and stores were replacing tapes with discs as fast as they could. VHS made one last grasp (gasp) by producing a “super” tape (and super player, naturally) reputed to display the same quality as a laserdisc. The barn door, however, was shut and all the horses were gone. So to speak.
The point of my story, though, is that I didn’t like either of anything when I first saw them. And neither did my brother-in-law. While viewing STAR WARS: The Empire Strikes Back on one of these newer sets (I think it was a $10,000 widescreen demo TV) we both turned to the salesman and joked that nobody was ever going to watch little skinny movies on big giant TV’s. And we were serious. As well as naïve. Some guy across the room also chuckled at our comment. He said something to the effect, “You two have no idea what you’re talking about.” And we sure didn’t. But we soon learned better and quickly became huge advocates for buying widescreen movies whenever possible. We just needed to become educated, informed, and catch-up-to-speed with what was actually happening in the fast-changing world of home entertainment. A revolution was in progress, all around us, and we were finally catching on. Better late than never.
Some extra trivia: When former rental giant Blockbuster first started out, the company was owned by a religious family and refused to carry R-rated movies in any of their stores. Once the chain was sold, however, Blockbuster became almost infamous for its wide variety of titles including the best (or worst) of blood and gore exploitation films. When studios realized that the home video market was ripe for added adult-oriented material not included in the original theatrical film – the so-called “unrated” version – all bets were off. Not only were consumers now faced with a choice between widescreen and full-screen, but the rated and unrated, director's and extended-cut versions as well. More than once I was “burned” after paying full price for a rated (theatrical cut), full-screen, pan-and-scan movie, only to find out later that a widescreen, unrated “home video” version was available for the same exact price. Things slowly got better, but for collectors like me, it took years before I got a handle on the craziness. Even today, I still get caught once in a while and it still drives me crazy.
By the way, as another related aside, RCA briefly got into the optical “disc” revolution and invented and manufactured their own version of a laser disc. Well, sort of. It didn’t really have a laser. It used a replaceable “needle” that played the disc like it was a standard music record. Did it work? For a while. Until it failed miserably and RCA lost a gazillion dollars on a dumb idea that should never have seen the light of day to begin with.
Speaking of failures, before I got a little sidetracked by ducking into that Ken Cranes store, I was discussing the waning days of VHS video tapes. Not because it’s simply historical in nature, but because it has a direct bearing on the whole widescreen topic under review. Studios made a last-ditch effort to produce widescreen VHS movies, but it was too little, too late. The laserdisc was winning the day, had won the battle, and stores were replacing tapes with discs as fast as they could. VHS made one last grasp (gasp) by producing a “super” tape (and super player, naturally) reputed to display the same quality as a laserdisc. The barn door, however, was shut and all the horses were gone. So to speak.
RCA's failed entry in the video revolution
In a world where Life is Fleeting and One can never really Own anything,
Collectors still like to gather Acorns in preparation for an Endless Winter.
No discussion of this subject matter would be complete without a quick overview of how the video marketplace has always been divided between those who rent movies, and those who buy them to own. Some people do both, buying a few of their favorite films and renting the rest, while others (like me) become serious “collectors” based on what they can afford. As the price of new and used movies continued to fall, VHS at first, then laserdiscs, then DVD’s, the ability to own movies and watch them anytime represented for many, a dream-come-true. As with most things, this situation was – and is – far more complex than how it might appear at first glance (viewing?) What were the real differences that, in general, distinguished the casual buyer from the routine renter, or from the obsessive collector?
One analogy that might help to explain the phenomenon of collector versus renter may lie in a comparison with some of those who lived through the Great Depression during the early 1930’s. A lot of them went on to become hoarders to one degree or another – despite big improvements in living standards and a plenitude of everything that, during the Depression, was either in short supply or unavailable altogether. Memories of “going without” were so vivid and long lasting that even when rationing was not only unnecessary, but silly, many older folks, now well off, might still behave as if nothing had changed for the better. Though a bit of a stretch, a similar situation affected many of us who suffered through the multitude of machinations that resulted from half-a-century of ongoing technical revolutions. For example, the phonograph record, the LP album, the 8-track tape, then the cassette and finally the modern CD. Likewise, the similar evolution of film into today’s advanced Blu-ray disc – and all the steps (and machines) in-between.
One of the more memorable revolutions that older generations can recall involves the quality of TV reception. Whether ruined by what was known as “snow”, a weak signal, “ghosting”, interference, or any number of other causes, I can still remember how poor the picture often looked on our family TV set. I remember my dad up on the roof of the house adjusting a bulky and awkward antenna, shouting down to whoever was watching the screen while they announced when the image was the clearest. Even when the picture was at its best, it was – by today’s standards – barely watchable.
Then came color TV with still barely watchable – but now colorful screen images. Gradually, however, TV’s, picture tubes, and reception steadily improved until a decade or so went by where most of us got used to what came across the tube. In the meantime, theaters themselves underwent their own revolutions with improved, widescreen films, better sound quality, so on and so forth. The in-home experience remained pretty much the same and if one wanted a movie-going thrill, one still needed to go see a movie at their local theater. Things stayed calm and uneventful until the next big change. Cable. And an ensuing decade that would persist as a nightmarish equivalent of a new “dark ages” for television viewers.
Many have forgotten how, in its infancy, cable TV was worse than a bad day in the 1950’s when the roof antenna fell over in a storm. And that’s when it was working. More often than not, an errant rain cloud or even a minor traffic fender-bender could cause the cable to stop working. Or the picture to turn into a blizzard of incomprehensible “noise”. During the late 1970’s through the mid-eighties, up through the early nineties, cable television – in terms of reliable performance and quality reception, was a frustrating, many times infuriating “mess”. Technical support was virtually nonexistent because the operators hardly knew more about this “new” technology than the victimized consumer. Even while reminiscing about my personal experiences with cable during its growing pains, I feel myself getting angry all over again.
Finally – finally – in the mid-nineties, cable came into its own and provided a generally satisfying television experience. Left in its wake, however, from a prior decade which was a combination of incompetence and inefficient equipment, were an “army of survivors” for whom an uninterrupted, clear TV picture had become the Holy Grail of home entertainment. I’ll never forget when I watched my newly purchased (pan-and-scan) copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark – one of the first VHS films to sell at the unbelievably low price of $29.95 (about 1983), how my initial reaction was utter amazement at the wondrous quality of the TV picture itself. I “bit the bullet” and spent $1300.00 for my first VHS recorder chiefly so I could watch decent quality movies and the few channels that came in clear when the cable was working.
One analogy that might help to explain the phenomenon of collector versus renter may lie in a comparison with some of those who lived through the Great Depression during the early 1930’s. A lot of them went on to become hoarders to one degree or another – despite big improvements in living standards and a plenitude of everything that, during the Depression, was either in short supply or unavailable altogether. Memories of “going without” were so vivid and long lasting that even when rationing was not only unnecessary, but silly, many older folks, now well off, might still behave as if nothing had changed for the better. Though a bit of a stretch, a similar situation affected many of us who suffered through the multitude of machinations that resulted from half-a-century of ongoing technical revolutions. For example, the phonograph record, the LP album, the 8-track tape, then the cassette and finally the modern CD. Likewise, the similar evolution of film into today’s advanced Blu-ray disc – and all the steps (and machines) in-between.
One of the more memorable revolutions that older generations can recall involves the quality of TV reception. Whether ruined by what was known as “snow”, a weak signal, “ghosting”, interference, or any number of other causes, I can still remember how poor the picture often looked on our family TV set. I remember my dad up on the roof of the house adjusting a bulky and awkward antenna, shouting down to whoever was watching the screen while they announced when the image was the clearest. Even when the picture was at its best, it was – by today’s standards – barely watchable.
Then came color TV with still barely watchable – but now colorful screen images. Gradually, however, TV’s, picture tubes, and reception steadily improved until a decade or so went by where most of us got used to what came across the tube. In the meantime, theaters themselves underwent their own revolutions with improved, widescreen films, better sound quality, so on and so forth. The in-home experience remained pretty much the same and if one wanted a movie-going thrill, one still needed to go see a movie at their local theater. Things stayed calm and uneventful until the next big change. Cable. And an ensuing decade that would persist as a nightmarish equivalent of a new “dark ages” for television viewers.
Many have forgotten how, in its infancy, cable TV was worse than a bad day in the 1950’s when the roof antenna fell over in a storm. And that’s when it was working. More often than not, an errant rain cloud or even a minor traffic fender-bender could cause the cable to stop working. Or the picture to turn into a blizzard of incomprehensible “noise”. During the late 1970’s through the mid-eighties, up through the early nineties, cable television – in terms of reliable performance and quality reception, was a frustrating, many times infuriating “mess”. Technical support was virtually nonexistent because the operators hardly knew more about this “new” technology than the victimized consumer. Even while reminiscing about my personal experiences with cable during its growing pains, I feel myself getting angry all over again.
Finally – finally – in the mid-nineties, cable came into its own and provided a generally satisfying television experience. Left in its wake, however, from a prior decade which was a combination of incompetence and inefficient equipment, were an “army of survivors” for whom an uninterrupted, clear TV picture had become the Holy Grail of home entertainment. I’ll never forget when I watched my newly purchased (pan-and-scan) copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark – one of the first VHS films to sell at the unbelievably low price of $29.95 (about 1983), how my initial reaction was utter amazement at the wondrous quality of the TV picture itself. I “bit the bullet” and spent $1300.00 for my first VHS recorder chiefly so I could watch decent quality movies and the few channels that came in clear when the cable was working.
An Embarrassment of Riches
The foregoing story is a good (or sad) example of how one becomes a collector of movies rather than a renter only. The idea of “collecting” a bunch of films whose quality of picture was reliable and dependable, represented a guilty pleasure that, as the price of new and used films dropped lower and lower, grew into a casual but steady “compulsion”. The thing about “collecting” is that it has a life of its own in a way. The larger the collection, the more it exposes gaps of important films that are then missing. This is especially true, of course, with respect to sequels and remakes. Given the affordability of “used” movies, building a home “library” over a period of years – in my case well over two decades – has been a fun and fulfilling adventure. All the films listed here as recommendations, by the way, are from my personal collection.
All of this brings me to a final and what I believe to be my most salient point. We've come full circle and again reference the question of how little there was to teach about world history at one time – in ancient times – and by comparison, how much exists today for a student to learn. The same is almost painfully true when it comes to music and movies. I often wonder how a young person who loves movies and continues to discover the individual treasures among the troves that exist, could possibly hope to learn which films belong on a hypothetical “must-see” list of those not-to-be-missed. Reviews are often of little help if one doesn’t necessarily know which reviews to read for which films.
With respect to contemporary movies – those produced over the last ten years or so – the choices are relatively straightforward and somewhat easy to discern. Most are named on any good list of recommendations that one might come to trust as reliable when it relates to such things. Far more difficult, however, are selections from the early 2000’s, the 1990’s, let alone the 80’s, 70’s, 60’s and even earlier. A lot earlier in some cases. For a person in their late teens through early 40’s, speaking of numbers, the sheer volume of excellent films – from all genres – must seem quite literally and legitimately, overwhelming to say the least.
I’ve talked to more than one young person (they all seem younger than me anymore) who expressed concern when it came to choosing from a list of older films, as to which are the best, or how to know what genre a movie might belong to, based on title alone. I can’t imagine trying to work my way through the veritable jungle of movies that now exist, and do so without my history of personal experience. Even I, with all my years of paying attention, am frequently blindsided by terrific but lesser known, independent films, hundreds of which are produced every year in countries throughout the world. I know it’s also easy to draw a ready comparison to the immense volume of books written year in and year out. It's worth repeating how those who love to read, both young and old, are no doubt faced with a dilemma of equal proportions to the one I describe with respect to films.
That being said, what follows here, is my meager contribution to what constitutes a list of personal movie recommendations for most every genre. I’ve broken the selections down into genre categories, but such categories can only be rough guidelines at best. As you likely already know, lots of films spill over (overlap) into more than one genre, such as a sci-fi film that is also a great horror movie. Certainly Alien is the perfect example of this sort of thing. Speaking of which, so is the movie, The Thing. All three versions.
One could do much worse than watch any one of the films I’ve listed, each of which I recommend for one reason or another, usually always good. I’ve also recommended a few because they’re so awful; I'll let you know which is which. I understand, too, how different genres appeal to different folks. Thus my offerings are genre specific and pertain only to the genre in which a film is listed. In other words, I don’t arbitrarily recommend a horror film to someone who only likes sci-fi. And vice versa. I’ve done my best to keep the two separate, but as mentioned, it isn’t always easy to do.
Please note: In the multiple listings that follow, readers should assume any particular movie is either rated R or is unrated in a more-than-R-rated fashion. All movies named represent mainstream films, more or less, and absolutely no pornographic films (soft core or otherwise) are named.
For those who waded through my writings here on both a general history of movies and some of my personal experiences, I hope you found the journey to be of interest. I originally intended to provide what was to be little more than a list of movies for those who had a desire to see a comprehensive directory of films from which they could feel relatively confident while selecting a movie worth watching. Based, of course, on my personal recommendation. If and when a bond of trust is established, however, a person might then be comfortable choosing any film on the list and know their time wouldn’t have been wasted. At least that’s how the system is designed to work. Since movies can be very subjective when it comes to evaluating their merit, I can’t offer any guarantees, of course. But I stand behind the list as shown and while you might not love every one named, I feel confident that, like me, you’ll find something of value regardless of what’s chosen. And that you’ll “get” why I thought it was worth a viewing. Or if you’re a hopeless fan-addict like me – maybe worth owning.
All of this brings me to a final and what I believe to be my most salient point. We've come full circle and again reference the question of how little there was to teach about world history at one time – in ancient times – and by comparison, how much exists today for a student to learn. The same is almost painfully true when it comes to music and movies. I often wonder how a young person who loves movies and continues to discover the individual treasures among the troves that exist, could possibly hope to learn which films belong on a hypothetical “must-see” list of those not-to-be-missed. Reviews are often of little help if one doesn’t necessarily know which reviews to read for which films.
With respect to contemporary movies – those produced over the last ten years or so – the choices are relatively straightforward and somewhat easy to discern. Most are named on any good list of recommendations that one might come to trust as reliable when it relates to such things. Far more difficult, however, are selections from the early 2000’s, the 1990’s, let alone the 80’s, 70’s, 60’s and even earlier. A lot earlier in some cases. For a person in their late teens through early 40’s, speaking of numbers, the sheer volume of excellent films – from all genres – must seem quite literally and legitimately, overwhelming to say the least.
I’ve talked to more than one young person (they all seem younger than me anymore) who expressed concern when it came to choosing from a list of older films, as to which are the best, or how to know what genre a movie might belong to, based on title alone. I can’t imagine trying to work my way through the veritable jungle of movies that now exist, and do so without my history of personal experience. Even I, with all my years of paying attention, am frequently blindsided by terrific but lesser known, independent films, hundreds of which are produced every year in countries throughout the world. I know it’s also easy to draw a ready comparison to the immense volume of books written year in and year out. It's worth repeating how those who love to read, both young and old, are no doubt faced with a dilemma of equal proportions to the one I describe with respect to films.
That being said, what follows here, is my meager contribution to what constitutes a list of personal movie recommendations for most every genre. I’ve broken the selections down into genre categories, but such categories can only be rough guidelines at best. As you likely already know, lots of films spill over (overlap) into more than one genre, such as a sci-fi film that is also a great horror movie. Certainly Alien is the perfect example of this sort of thing. Speaking of which, so is the movie, The Thing. All three versions.
One could do much worse than watch any one of the films I’ve listed, each of which I recommend for one reason or another, usually always good. I’ve also recommended a few because they’re so awful; I'll let you know which is which. I understand, too, how different genres appeal to different folks. Thus my offerings are genre specific and pertain only to the genre in which a film is listed. In other words, I don’t arbitrarily recommend a horror film to someone who only likes sci-fi. And vice versa. I’ve done my best to keep the two separate, but as mentioned, it isn’t always easy to do.
Please note: In the multiple listings that follow, readers should assume any particular movie is either rated R or is unrated in a more-than-R-rated fashion. All movies named represent mainstream films, more or less, and absolutely no pornographic films (soft core or otherwise) are named.
For those who waded through my writings here on both a general history of movies and some of my personal experiences, I hope you found the journey to be of interest. I originally intended to provide what was to be little more than a list of movies for those who had a desire to see a comprehensive directory of films from which they could feel relatively confident while selecting a movie worth watching. Based, of course, on my personal recommendation. If and when a bond of trust is established, however, a person might then be comfortable choosing any film on the list and know their time wouldn’t have been wasted. At least that’s how the system is designed to work. Since movies can be very subjective when it comes to evaluating their merit, I can’t offer any guarantees, of course. But I stand behind the list as shown and while you might not love every one named, I feel confident that, like me, you’ll find something of value regardless of what’s chosen. And that you’ll “get” why I thought it was worth a viewing. Or if you’re a hopeless fan-addict like me – maybe worth owning.
If you think current times are crazy, even chaotic, you would have loved the future.
As I finished writing this tome, a final thought occurred to me that I felt was worth passing along before bringing the subject to what I’m sure will be seen as a much appreciated conclusion. One can't help but wonder where all of this video and audio stuff is leading to -- ultimately. Provided it continues along its present course of ever-increasing sophistication. There can be only one answer: "total immersion" as it's known. Or as it's imagined. Via holographic projections, virtual-reality imaging, and all manner of yet-to-be invented 3-D and 4-D technologies, it is very likely that the movies of the future will be interactive experiences similar in many ways, to those imagined in contemporary movies such as Total Recall.
Another, seemingly unrelated technology is keeping pace with all others and may soon outdistance the rest altogether. Robotics and A.I.(artificial intelligence). Specifically synthetic human look-alikes and do-alikes. Ever since the invention of the automobile, people have maintained special relationships with their vehicles. They are, for some, a kind of warm, friendly companion. It's not too difficult to speculate how things might be were cars to evolve into intelligent, semi-sentient beings unto themselves. But autos are fast becoming autonomous, however (pun intended) which will no longer require drivers. And it's the non-human passenger in the seat next to you who will one day desire your attention. A lovely female, perhaps, a nice looking man, maybe. Conscious, aware, uninhibited.
Alluring and more addictive than any drug, the artificial human may spell the doom of conventional forms of entertainment altogether. Or relegate it both to brief flings of roller-coaster style excitement, and meditative relaxation. One thing is likely a certainty, however. Both technologies, that of ultra-advanced robotics and full-immersion pseudo-realities will exist simultaneously. Regardless of how things eventually turn out, another fact is beyond question: the X-rated adult industry will not only be involved, but likely set the trends and directions of a future both unfathomable and unthinkable for most of us. May the Maker have mercy on our souls. Amen.
Another, seemingly unrelated technology is keeping pace with all others and may soon outdistance the rest altogether. Robotics and A.I.(artificial intelligence). Specifically synthetic human look-alikes and do-alikes. Ever since the invention of the automobile, people have maintained special relationships with their vehicles. They are, for some, a kind of warm, friendly companion. It's not too difficult to speculate how things might be were cars to evolve into intelligent, semi-sentient beings unto themselves. But autos are fast becoming autonomous, however (pun intended) which will no longer require drivers. And it's the non-human passenger in the seat next to you who will one day desire your attention. A lovely female, perhaps, a nice looking man, maybe. Conscious, aware, uninhibited.
Alluring and more addictive than any drug, the artificial human may spell the doom of conventional forms of entertainment altogether. Or relegate it both to brief flings of roller-coaster style excitement, and meditative relaxation. One thing is likely a certainty, however. Both technologies, that of ultra-advanced robotics and full-immersion pseudo-realities will exist simultaneously. Regardless of how things eventually turn out, another fact is beyond question: the X-rated adult industry will not only be involved, but likely set the trends and directions of a future both unfathomable and unthinkable for most of us. May the Maker have mercy on our souls. Amen.
Fig. 20.
You're currently on page IMA4
listed under IMAGINOMICON.
Listed on pages IMA5 and IMA6
are my personal movie recommendations.
Feel free to print them out for future reference.
