This Is Spinal Tap 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray Review

Criterion’s 4K restoration, supervised and approved by Rob Reiner, presents This Is Spinal Tap at 1.85:1 in 2160p with Dolby Vision HDR (HDR10 engages depending on setup), while the included Blu-ray is SDR. Sourced from the 16mm original camera negative and a 35mm blow-up interpositive, the transfer embraces a faithful filmic texture: grain is evident, stable, and organic for 16mm, with only minor fluctuations tied to the blended sources. Fine detail is respectable relative to the capture format, revealing facial textures, hair, makeup, and the flamboyant wardrobe, with concert lighting rendered vividly. Purposefully degraded inserts—like Gimme Some Money’s kinescope look and (Listen to the) Flower People’s fuzzy videotape origins—appear as intended.

The HDR grade invigorates color without skewing skin tones, tightens highlights to prevent blown whites, and deepens blacks while preserving shadow detail. The overall image trends a notch darker than some past releases, likely aligning closer to the intended aesthetic; daylight interviews and bright interiors remain well-balanced. Peak bitrates hover in the 90 Mbps+ range, yielding exemplary compression with no visible macroblocking or posterization, even during grain-heavy and high-saturation sequences. Framing at the generally accepted 1.85:1 and the improved stability combine to deliver the most theatrical, consistent home presentation this low-budget classic has received, with concert scenes particularly striking.

The audio presentation offers two well-judged options: DTS-HD MA 5.1 and the original LPCM 2.0. The 5.1 mix is reported to have been built from the original 35mm magnetic stems, while the provenance of the 2.0 is less clearly documented. Both tracks represent a clear upgrade over prior releases, with fuller bass and a richer dynamic range. The LPCM 2.0 is intentionally front-heavy and plays slightly louder; dialogue, interviews, and quieter verité moments come through with greater presence and intelligibility. The DTS-HD MA 5.1 provides a broader surround field with tasteful, intermittent discrete activity—particularly crowd ambience at concerts and parties—delivering a palpable lift in scale and weight during performance sequences.

Choosing between them hinges on listening priorities. The 2.0 track offers a cohesive, center-focused presentation that balances the film’s shifting modes effectively, while the 5.1 mix can read a touch softer in everyday scenes but expands impressively for musical set pieces, where it “kicks” in ways the stereo track cannot. Purists and surround seekers are equally well served, and either pathway is a strong representation of the material. Optional English SDH subtitles are included for the feature only, not for the supplements.

A robust, archive-anchored extras suite balances substantial new material with thoughtfully revived legacy content. The 4K and Blu-ray movie discs carry three complementary commentaries—two resurrected production tracks from 1994 and a beloved in-character session—while a dedicated bonus Blu-ray adds a lively 2024 Reiner/Oswalt interview, a greatly expanded deleted/extended scene assembly (with rough A/V and some early laserdisc omissions), and key vintage pieces that map the band’s evolution from prototype short to reunion-era specials. The promo gallery is broad and nostalgic, with only a few minor absences, and a trailer teases the upcoming sequel. Collectively, the curation is deep, historically aware, and highly rewatchable.

Extras included in this disc:

• 1994 Audio Commentary (Guest, McKean, Shearer): Legacy track with production and performance insights.
• 1994 Audio Commentary (Reiner, Murphy, Leighton, Beyda): Legacy production track, candid and detailed.
• 2001 In‑Character Commentary (Nigel, David, Derek): Playfully satirical “band” roast.
• Rob Reiner with Patton Oswalt: New retrospective conversation (30:16).
• The Cutting Room Floor: Expanded deleted/extended scenes (1:38:10); rough A/V; some early omissions; no subtitles.
• Spinal Tap: The Final Tour: 1981 proto-short, prefigures film’s gags and personas (20:45).
• The Return of Spinal Tap: 1992 TV-movie excerpt; not the full concert (10:02).
• Back from the Dead Interviews: 2009 in-character special absent from that year’s Blu-ray (56:26).
• Promotional Materials: 12 clips (33:24) including trailers, TV spots, in-character bits; a few minor omissions.
  • Cheese Rolling Promo
  • Cheese Rolling Theatrical Trailer
  • Theatrical Trailer
  • TV Spots
  • Heavy Metal Memories Commercial
  • Hell Hole Music Video
  • Gimme Some Money
  • The Thamesmen Press Conference
  • (Listen To The) Flower People Music Video
  • Big Bottom Music Video
  • Spinal Tap on the Joe Franklin Show
  • Catching Up with Mary DiBergi
• Spinal Tap II: The End Continues Trailer: Teaser for the sequel (2:18).

Rob Reiner’s debut remains a defining mockumentary, built on improvised dialogue, documentary-style cinematography and editing, and convincingly performed original music. Co-written with Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer—who also play as a fully functioning band—the film charts a fictional British rock group’s zigzag evolution through changing styles before landing as hard-rock warhorses on a faltering North American tour. Across a taut 82 minutes, dwindling crowds, critical backlash, and spectacular stage/production snafus play out with a precision that toes the line between deadpan satire and credible realism. The commitment to authenticity—onstage musicianship, backstage vernacular, and performance dynamics—keeps the comedy grounded and the world fully lived-in.

As on-camera documentarian Marty DiBergi, Reiner frames the material with a straight face that magnifies the absurd without tipping into camp. The film was carved from dozens of hours of footage and grew out of an earlier 20-minute short, which explains its seamless flow and density of memorable moments while remaining “trimmed of all fat.” Its influence on subsequent faux-docs and fly-on-the-wall comedies is pervasive, yet it still feels singular: a spoof that doubles as affectionate homage, never punching down at its subjects. The result is a benchmark for the genre—infinitely quotable, deceptively naturalistic, and frequently mistaken for the real thing.

This conclusion: Criterion’s 4K UHD release of This Is Spinal Tap honors the film’s forty-year legacy and impending sequel with a restoration that respects its 16mm faux-documentary aesthetic while meaningfully elevating clarity, grain fidelity, and contrast. The Dolby Vision transfer delivers stable, nuanced HDR with natural film texture and punchy highlights that never betray the original vérité look. Detail and density are markedly improved over prior editions without over-sharpening, and the image reads consistently “filmic.” Complementing the video, the set includes two excellent audio options that balance crisp dialogue, authentic live-performance energy, and period-appropriate dynamics.

As a package, it feels like a definitive reunion. The three-disc 4K/Blu-ray combo (with a two-disc Blu-ray alternative) pairs very strong A/V merits with a deep supplement suite, blending long-lost archival commentaries and legacy materials with newly produced content, including a lively sitdown with Rob Reiner and Patton Oswalt. Having been championed on laserdisc and DVD in the 1990s, this edition consolidates that history while surpassing it in presentation and completeness. For collectors and newcomers alike, this is a thorough, respectful, and entertaining treatment that goes the distance—an essential upgrade and a model catalog release.