Welcome to American Cinematographer’s reviews of recent DVD releases. We think you will find these reviews — as well as the films themselves — noteworthy. In many instances, these DVDs include behind-the-scenes featurettes as well as interviews with the cinematographer who photographed the work.

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• Seven
  2.40:1 (16 x 9 Enhanced)Dolby EX 5.1,
  DTS ES Discrete 6.1 and Dolby Digital Stereo
  New Line Platinum Series, $29.95

• Gimme Shelter
  1.33:1, Dolby Digital 5.1, 2.0 and DTS 5.1
  Criterion Collection, $39.95

• Touch of Evil
  1.85:1 (16 x 9 Enhanced), Dolby Digital 2.0
  Universal, $29.98

A beautifully made film about the ugliest corners of the human psyche, David Fincher’s Seven was one of the most unsettling films of the ’90s. The story follows two detectives (Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman) on the trail of a highly intelligent, seemingly invincible serial killer, John Doe (Kevin Spacey), who chooses victims based upon their indulgence in one of the Seven Deadly Sins. The film offers no false uplift or cheery resolution. Instead, the filmmakers side with the world-weary mindset of Freeman’s Detective Somerset, who is all too aware of the impossibility of stemming the rampant evil that’s loose in the film’s carefully anonymous, rain-soaked urban hell.

Darius Khondji, ASC, AFC’s rich, moody and justly celebrated cinematography exemplifies one of the film’s major themes: the seductiveness of sin. The interesting visual arc moves from the near-total darkness of the first murder to a truly horrible conclusion in the clear, bright "magic hour" of early evening (at 7 p.m., of course). It’s a tribute to Fincher’s powers as a visual stylist that many viewers believe they’ve seen things that aren’t really there. The film was excoriated by some critics for its violence, but there are no onscreen acts of brutality only the aftermath is shown, in a grim, remorseless tone. In his commentary, Fincher recalls getting into an argument with a woman who berated him for displaying the film’s now-notorious final twist, when in fact this grisly revelation is never actually shown onscreen.

The argument that film schools are a luxury rather than a necessity in this age of special edition DVDs is given its most persuasive support yet by this spectacular new DVD edition of Seven from New Line. You could subtitle this disc Fincher 101, as the key aspects of the film’s production the stars, the story, the picture and the sound are dissected in detail by a host of commentators on four separate audio commentaries. Of the most interest to AC readers, of course, is the chance to hear Khondji discuss his "color noir" strategy; meanwhile, Freeman laughingly admits (in a commentary that also features an enthusiastic Pitt) that he eventually grew impatient with Khondji’s perfectionist, last-minute "tweaking" of the sets. Among the supplements included on a second disc are a thorough examination of the jagged, highly influential opening-title sequence, and a series of interesting deleted scenes.

The truly outstanding feature of this DVD is a newly remastered transfer of the film made directly from the film’s original negative under Fincher’s supervision. The results are stunning, with superb clarity, rich color saturation and deep blacks.

"[The Altamont concert] is creating a microcosmic society which sets an example to the rest of America as to how one can behave in nice gatherings."

Mick Jagger, prior to Altamont

Even in his most sardonic moments as a lyricist, Jagger could not have come up with a statement more ironic. When the highly respected documentarians Albert and David Maysles began following the Rolling Stones around the United States during the group’s 1969 tour, they weren’t sure of the theme they were after, and the first half of Gimme Shelter reflects this lack of an agenda: it’s an entertaining, non-controversial glimpse of a rock band at the cocky, strutting height of its powers.

The Maysles brothers undoubtedly surmised that the Stones’ free concert at Altamont Speedway near San Francisco would be the perfect close to the film and it was, but not for the reasons they anticipated. When one of the Hell’s Angels assigned to work as security fatally stabbed a gun-toting spectator, the documentary captured what many pop-culture pundits have singled out as the exact moment when the innocence of the ’60s ended. Gimme Shelter virtually screams to be shown as the bummer half of a documentary double-bill with Michael Wadleigh’s far more optimistic Woodstock.

In addition to an excellent new, high-definition transfer, remastered and restored from the original 16mm negative, Criterion has packaged Gimme Shelter with its usual unparalleled attention to detail. (Who else but Criterion would have the imagination to include audio excerpts from San Francisco radio station KSAN’s post-mortem analysis of the concert, recorded on December 7, 1969?) Also included is a commentary from directors Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin, as well as fellow collaborator Stanley Goldstein, who reveals that some Hell’s Angels assaulted David Maysles after production and threatened all of the filmmakers with death warrants if the film ever saw the light of day.

Also included on the disc are never-before-seen performances of a quartet of Stones songs, along with some juicy backstage outtakes (including one featuring Ike and Tina Turner), an Altamont stills gallery featuring the thoughtful work of photographers Bill Owens and Beth Sunflower, and a useful restoration demonstration.

Orson Welles’s deliciously pulpy study of ethical rot on the Mexican border remains a landmark in film style. Wearing both his director and actor caps, Welles virtually oozes corruption in his role as Hank Quinlan, a corpulent police chief who frames a Mexican youth as part of a criminal plot. Russell Metty, ASC’s baroque cinematography is an essential component of the film’s sleazy charm the camera slides around characters like a garden snake and often tilts at Dutch angles to reflect a world increasingly divorced from its moral center.

Touch of Evil was notoriously sliced and diced by studio honchos who wanted a popcorn picture, and this DVD release sets the record straight once and for all. Producer Rick Schmidlin found a 58-page memo that Welles had written to studio head Ed Muhl, suggesting changes that should be made to Universal’s cut of the film. Schmidlin then called upon respected sound and film editor Walter Murch to heed Welles’s original instructions, and Murch effectively recut the picture to the director’s original specifications. (Welles’s memo is among the supplemental material on this disc.)

The chief alteration occurs during the film’s celebrated opening sequence, which ranks as one of the most famous shots in movie history a long, uninterrupted tracking shot around the Venice Boardwalk that smoothly sets the plot’s wheels in motion. Per Welles’s suggestion, Henry Mancini’s music and the opening titles have been removed, and the mélange of incidental music filtering from nearby saloons has been reinstated.

This is a top-notch restoration of an important and vastly influential film. Grain is practically non-existent, and image blemishes, usually the most annoying distraction on older prints, are kept to a minimum.

DVD submissions for possible inclusion on this page should be sent to:
American Cinematographer in care of Executive Editor Stephen Pizzello
1782 North Orange Drive, Hollywood, CA 90028.