The Man Who Wasn't There

The Blu-ray release of "The Man Who Wasn't There," shot by the esteemed Roger Deakins, has been brought to home video by Universal Home Video in a 1080p, AVC-encoded format that attempts to honor Deakins' meticulous work. Deakins, awarded and nominated multiple times for his exceptional cinematography, shares in an accompanying interview the unique process of filming this movie on color stock before converting it to black-and-white, a decision rooted in both creative flexibility and contractual obligations for international versions. This methodological choice not only showcases Deakins' deliberate use of lighting to enhance the film's visual storytelling but also presents a unique challenge in transferring the film's intricate grayscale and textures to Blu-ray.

While the Blu-ray does not seem to feature a new transfer, suggested by some minor wobbling during the end credits, it still manages to present the film's diverse visual compositions with fidelity. The deep blacks, varied contrast, and extensive range of grays maintain the film's dramatic visual texture from sharply lit courtroom dramas to more tender, dimly lit piano sequences. Despite this, the digital transfer shows occasional signs of electronic sharpening and some inconsistency in grain texture, which slightly detracts from the otherwise meticulously achieved detail. These moments do not overly mar the viewing experience but may be noticeable to discerning viewers.

The technical execution of the Blu-ray showcases a commendable average bitrate of 34.87 Mbps and demonstrates that care has been taken to minimize compression artifacts, ensuring that Deakins' visionary cinematography is respected. However, it's clear that while the existing transfer does justice to the original film in many aspects, from its striking blacks to the carefully delineated shades of grey, there is room for improvement in capturing the full subtlety of Deakins' work without minor digital enhancements that can occasionally disrupt the natural film grain aesthetics.

The audio presentation of "The Man Who Wasn't There" on Blu Ray, encoded in lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, is not one that initially screams for attention, much like the film's main character, Ed Crane. However, upon closer listening, the soundtrack unfolds its nuanced layers, meticulously crafted by supervising sound mixer and editor Skip Lievsay. This subtlety serves as a testament to Lievsay's talent, recognized by his Oscar win for "Gravity". The audio track strategically highlights individual effects to augment the cinematic narrative, personified through the crisp sound of scissors in the barbershop which echoes Crane’s own introduction.

Ed Crane's voice-over, an element crucial for the narrative's progression, is delicately handled to rise above the rest of the film's audio without overpowering it. This ensures every word is heard clearly, enveloping the viewer into Crane’s introspective world. Dialogue throughout the film maintains this level of clarity, enabling even the most impassioned or convoluted conversations to be easily followed by audiences. The choice of Carter Burwell to compose the movie's haunting theme further complements the film’s somber tone, yet it’s the classical piano scores, primarily from Beethoven, that enrich the atmospheric setting of the narrative without overwhelming it.

The audio mix, hence, plays a pivotal role in accentuating the emotional and thematic undertones of "The Man Who Wasn't There", demonstrating a masterclass in audio editing and mixing. While it may not be showy or bombastic in its audio presentation, the precision with which specific sounds and music are employed adds a profound depth to the viewing experience, making it compelling and immersive.

The Blu-ray extras for "The Man Who Wasn't There" transport viewers behind the scenes with content mostly transferred from the Universal 2001 DVD, minus a photo gallery. The special features, particularly the insightful commentary with Billy Bob Thornton and the Coen Brothers, illuminate the meticulous creative decisions that shaped the film without delving into conventional analysis. Instead, discussions focus on specific gestures and the atmospheric use of shadow, offering an intimate peek into the filmmakers’ process. The deleted scenes add brief but intriguing layers to the narrative, while the making-of featurette and the extensive interview with cinematographer Roger Deakins delve deeper into the technical and philosophical aspects of filmmaking. Together with the original theatrical trailer and two TV spots, these extras enrich the Blu-ray experience by providing significant insight into the film's production and the artistic minds behind it.

Extras included in this disc:

• Commentary with Billy Bob Thornton and Joel and Ethan Coen: An insightful conversation that sheds light on the creative process.
• Deleted Scenes: Includes several brief inserts that provide additional context.
• Making The Man Who Wasn't There: A compilation of interviews and on-set footage.
• Interview with Cinematographer Roger Deakins: A detailed discussion on the technical aspects and philosophy of cinematography.
• Theatrical Trailer: The original promotional material for the film.
• TV Spots: Two commercials that aired on television.

The Man Who Wasn't There" (TMWWT), released in 2001, is a film by the Coen Brothers that delivers a unique experience, cloaked in the stylistic nuances of a black-and-white film noir set in the late 1940s. While it seamlessly incorporates genre staples such as its post-war Santa Rosa setting and the narrative device of a voiceover by its protagonist, Ed Crane (played by Billy Bob Thornton), TMWWT stands apart. Thornton's portrayal of Crane, a taciturn barber embroiled in a plot that spirals out of control, hinges on minimalism. His restrained performance, emphasizing the weight of silence and subtle facial expressions, crafts a character whose detachment from his surroundings and internal enigma become central to the narrative's unfolding.

The film's refusal to provide a straightforward narrative or overt character development leaves its audience grappling with ambiguity. Unlike the Coen Brothers' "Fargo," where the plot is anchored by the moral clarity of Marge Gunderson, TMWWT lacks a conventional hero or a clear moral compass. Instead, characters like Freddy Riedenschneider (Tony Shalhoub), a flamboyant lawyer, add layers of complexity with no promise of resolution, embodying the film's overarching themes of alienation and existential inquiry. The storyline, involving a hair-brained scheme to fund a dry cleaning business that escalates into unforeseen tragedy, parallels the unpredictability and moral ambiguity inherent in life itself.

In essence, TMWWT is an exploration of the unseen and the unsaid. Ed Crane’s odyssey through his unremarkable life to an accidental entanglement in crime poses larger questions about identity and existence, typical of the Coen oeuvre. The film's setting in a meticulously crafted yet generic post-war American town further amplifies its thematic concerns, presenting an environment that is at once familiar and uncannily detached. Despite or perhaps because of its elliptical storytelling and focus on a protagonist who defies easy categorization, TMWWT emerges as an essential, albeit understated, component of the Coen Brothers' filmography, inviting viewers to ponder what kind of man Ed Crane is—and by extension, what kind of people we all are in the murky light of morality and existential choice.

The Blu-ray presentation of "The Man Who Wasn't There" offers cinephiles a splendid opportunity to rediscover Joel Coen's unique blend of existential angst and dark humor, beautifully captured in stark black-and-white visuals that are as crisp and evocative as ever on this format. The film's award-winning direction, sharing the spotlight with David Lynch's "Mulholland Drive" at the 2001 Cannes Film Festival for Best Director, underscores its place within a lineage of thought-provoking cinema that questions identity and reality. Both films, though narratively and stylistically different, evoke a dream-like quality that challenges viewers' perceptions, making "The Man Who Wasn't There" an essential study in cinematic storytelling.

The technical specs of the Blu-ray do justice to Roger Deakins' masterful cinematography, highlighting the deep blacks and contrasting lights that give the film its neo-noir feel. The audio quality complements the visuals perfectly, ensuring that Carter Burwell's haunting score and the nuanced soundscapes of the film are experienced as intended. The extras, though not exhaustive, provide a sufficient glimpse into the making of this complex film, facilitating a deeper appreciation for its artistic achievements and the thematic explorations of its enigmatic protagonist, Ed Crane.

In conclusion, Universal's release of "The Man Who Wasn't There" on Blu-ray is more than a mere home video presentation; it is an invitation to engage with a film that has rightfully earned its place among the modern classics. Its technical prowess serves to enhance the viewing experience, ensuring that both cineastes and casual viewers are equally captivated. The release not only celebrates the film's artistic merit but also its thematic richness, making it a must-have for collectors and enthusiasts eager to explore the depths of Coen's noir homage.