The Enchanted Cottage Blu-ray Review

The 1080p presentation, sourced from fresh 4K scans of the original (nitrate) camera negative and encoded in AVC MPEG-4, delivers a lustrous, film-accurate image in the native 1.37:1 aspect ratio. Fine, faint grain remains intact, preserving texture and an authentically mid-1940s look while appearing far younger than its age. Grayscale is exceptionally well managed: blacks are rich with superior shadow delineation that fends off crush, whites are stable, and midtones exhibit beautifully varied grays that add depth. Clarity and contrast are excellent, with pristine cleanliness and no intrusive dirt or debris. Encoding is notably strong, running at supportive bitrates and avoiding posterization and macroblocking even in challenging, fog-laced exteriors and other tricky gradients.

Cinematography trends toward a gauzy, glamour-inflected softness in select shots—especially close-ups on the leads—which is faithful to intent and not a transfer flaw. Elsewhere, detail is exemplary: sharp close-ups reveal nuanced makeup textures, including facial scarring, skin gradations, and hair detail. The ethereal atmosphere is rendered with smooth blacks and refined shadow layering that heighten the cottage’s sense of mystery, while special-effects composites are crisp and integrate cleanly. The heightened clarity can also make painted backdrops more apparent in some exterior scenes, a minor artifact of the original production design. Overall, it’s a spotless, elegant rendering that honors Ted Tetzlaff’s lush photography and stands as the most film-like and stable home-video presentation to date.

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono presentation delivers a faithful, high-quality rendering of the original track, housed in a two-channel container. Dialogue is cleanly captured and consistently prioritized, integrating smoothly with Roy Webb’s lush, Oscar-nominated score. Dynamic range is impressively wide for the period: sweeping highs and resonant lows are handled with confidence, giving the music breadth while maintaining intelligibility in spoken passages. Bass presence lends convincing weight to effects like rumbling thunder and crashing waves, and subtle ambient cues (e.g., birdsong) register naturally without crowding the midrange.

Age-related artifacts are minimal and non-intrusive. Reports vary between a largely cleaned-up track and faint, occasional soft hiss—at most, a light mid-film scratchiness—well within expectations for a production of this vintage. No intrusive pops or crackle were noted. Overall clarity, balance, and stability are strong, making this a reliably solid mono mix. Optional English (SDH) subtitles are available for the feature only, not the supplements.

A compact extras package complements this one-disc release, housed in a keepcase with vintage poster-styled artwork. The supplements focus on period radio dramatizations and the original trailer. Archival audio is clean for its age, while the SD trailer is rough but fully watchable. Historical context is solid, with cast continuity in one adaptation and an alternate lead interpretation in the other, spotlighting the film’s mid-century cultural footprint.

Extras included in this disc:

• Lux Radio Theater Broadcast: Condensed 9/3/1945 radio adaptation (~60 min) with Robert Young and Dorothy McGuire reprising roles.
• General Electric Theater Broadcast: Truncated 9/24/1953 radio version (~30 min) featuring Joan Fontaine as Laura Pennington.
• Theatrical Trailer: SD promotional trailer (~2 min), rough but watchable; notably shows McGuire only post-transformation.

John Cromwell’s 1945 adaptation of The Enchanted Cottage updates Arthur Wing Pinero’s early-1920s play from a post-WWI setting to WWII, framing its romance with trauma and recovery. Set on the New England coast (often identified as Maine), the tale follows painfully shy Laura Pennington (Dorothy McGuire), newly employed by enigmatic caretaker Abigail Minnett (Mildred Natwick), and Army pilot Oliver Bradford (Robert Young), who inspects the cottage with fiancée Beatrice Alexander (Hillary Brooke) on December 7, 1941, before war upends their plans. Returning years later disfigured, his right arm unusable, Oliver isolates in the cottage until a bond with Laura—and guidance from blind concert pianist John Hillgrove (Herbert Marshall)—gently reshapes their self-perceptions and choices.

Scripted by DeWitt Bodeen and Herman J. Mankiewicz, the film blends lyrical, sometimes florid romanticism with a lightly supernatural conceit: the couple’s “transformations” are rendered through practical photographic strategies that align what the camera shows with what characters feel. The pacing is deliberate, the mood ethereal, and the production design grants the cottage palpable character. McGuire’s layered restraint and Young’s wounded reserve anchor the piece, while Natwick’s inscrutability and Marshall’s warmth add texture; Spring Byington and Richard Gaines incisively needle as well-meaning but tactless parents. A tonal poem about inner versus outer beauty, the film’s sincerity and old-fashioned attitudes may polarize contemporary viewers, yet its tender exploration of love’s perceptual power remains resonant.

As a concluding assessment, this 1945 update from director John Cromwell (father of James) remains a sincere, tender romantic fantasy whose impact can hinge on a viewer’s tolerance for whimsy versus head-over-heart realism. The film is handsomely photographed, anchored by poised, affecting turns from Dorothy McGuire and Robert Young, and elevated by Roy Webb’s memorable score. Some narrative elements reflect a dated, lopsided view of female beauty—partly integral to the premise and the era—yet the execution is largely sensitive, and the emotional payoff endures. Positioned between the 1922 play and 1924 silent adaptation (with a later 2016 remake of lesser note), this version is the most polished and moving.

Warner Archive’s presentation underscores the film’s strengths. The transfer derives from a 4K scan of the original nitrate camera negative, yielding crisp detail, stable contrast, and clean grain that flatters the period cinematography. Remastered audio presents clear dialogue and musical fidelity without harshness, supporting the film’s delicate tone. Supplements include a couple of radio adaptations that contextualize the story’s legacy. Overall, this is a thoughtfully produced revival of an often-overlooked classic, appealing both to established admirers and to newcomers receptive to an earnest, timeless romance.