The Cobweb Blu-ray Review

Struck from a brand-new HD master sourced from a 4K scan of the original camera negative, this 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 presentation honors George Folsey’s CinemaScope photography with impressive fidelity. Framed at the early 2.55:1 ratio, the image is clean and stable, with grain finely resolved to preserve a convincing filmic texture. Clarity and contrast are consistently strong, revealing meticulous production detail while maintaining natural, accurate flesh tones. Eastmancolor is well controlled yet lively when it counts—reds (notably lipstick and wardrobe accents) register with satisfying pop without bleeding. Black levels are inky, whites are crisp, and shadow delineation is commendable, avoiding crush in night scenes.

Close-ups—scarcer in CinemaScope—are still notably sharp, rendering fine facial textures effectively. The source is spotless: no dirt, scratches, or reel-change markers, and no visible digital artifacts. Stability across the frame is excellent, with no telecine wobble or registration issues detected. Overall contrast is balanced, preserving depth without overdriving highlights, and the transfer resists banding or mosquito noise. Authentically composed at 2.55:1 with 27 chapters on the disc, this is a polished, faithful representation of the film’s widescreen design and color palette—arguably the most accurate and attractive it has looked on home video.

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo mix delivers robust, clean reproduction with notable front-channel separation. Dialogue is firmly prioritized and largely center-focused, with only slight bleed to the sides, maintaining excellent intelligibility at all times. The track exhibits a wide dynamic range, allowing soaring highs and weighty lows to breathe without strain, while strong tonal depth and balance prevent harshness or compression. Noise floor is commendably low: no hiss, pops, crackle, or flutter intrude, and there are no obvious age-related artifacts or distortion under pressure.

Leonard Rosenman’s atmospheric score benefits most, expanding across the left and right channels with a lush, enveloping presence that enhances spatiality without masking dialogue. Stereo imaging is stable and cohesive; headphone listening can reveal directional placement for certain cues, adding subtle localization beyond a purely monophonic center. Fidelity is consistently solid, with clean transients, well-anchored midrange, and satisfying low-end support that remains tight rather than boomy. Overall balance between music and dialogue is well-judged, producing an engaging and refined presentation that respects the film’s period aesthetics while maximizing clarity and impact within a 2.0 configuration.

Warner Archive meaningfully expands the DVD’s trailer-only extras, adding a CinemaScope 1955 promotional short and a well-preserved Tom and Jerry cartoon. The package balances studio history and vintage animation, with clean HD for the cartoon and a standard-definition trailer; the short showcases period scope framing and star cameos. Content-specific context is strong—highlighting MGM’s 1955 slate and a cartoon with brisk action—though technical restoration notes are minimal.

Extras included in this disc:

• Salute to the Theaters: 1955 MGM CinemaScope promo hosted by George Murphy with appearances by Esther Williams, Gene Kelly, Steve Forrest, Jane Powell, and William Gibson; previews 1955 releases.
• The Egg and Jerry: 1956 Tom and Jerry short in HD; Jerry and a hatchling woodpecker team up against Tom in high-energy slapstick.
• Theatrical Trailer: Original SD preview for The Cobweb.

Vincente Minnelli’s The Cobweb adapts William Gibson’s novel into a glossy, psychologically charged ensemble drama set in a plush sanitarium, with a drapery dispute catalyzing power struggles and personal crises. John Paxton’s screenplay (with additional dialogue by Gibson) compresses a dense web of plots into 124 minutes after producer John Houseman trimmed Minnelli’s two-and-a-half-hour cut, and the result is compelling if crowded, with an ending that resolves conflicts a bit too swiftly. The censors’ removal of homosexual allusions and a retooled finale blunt some edge, yet the picture remains sharply observed. Minnelli exploits the CinemaScope frame to sustain a claustrophobic, institutionally elegant mood; set-piece highlights include a rain-soaked river dredging and a clinic-wide meltdown that teeters on chaos without tipping over.

The cast supplies texture and heat: Richard Widmark’s driven Dr. McIver, Gloria Grahame’s combustible Karen, Lauren Bacall’s wounded Meg (a role reportedly replacing an earlier casting plan), Charles Boyer’s demoted, predatory Devanal (with Fay Wray as his wife), and Lillian Gish’s iron-spined administrator. John Kerr and Susan Strasberg debut persuasively as fragile patients; Oscar Levant’s Mr. Capp adds mordant color. Backstories—Meg’s bereavement, Stevie’s domineering father, Sue’s agoraphobia—enrich the interpersonal chess match, even as the narrative’s breadth outpaces its ability to fully resolve arcs. The film plays like Grand Hotel in a mental hospital: stylish, histrionic by design, and intermittently incisive about institutional dysfunction, where the staff often seems as in need of treatment as the patients.

Vincente Minnelli’s drama remains a lush, grandly staged tangle of modern anxieties and melodramatic threads. The all-star ensemble delivers forceful, often electric performances that elevate the material, and the film’s heightened tone can play as campy yet compelling. Despite its historical box-office failure, the project reflects a studio’s push toward timelier, more grounded subject matter, and the visual elegance and committed acting keep it engaging even when the narrative feels overheated and diffuse.

The Blu-ray’s presentation is a clear asset. Sourced from a new 4K scan of the original camera negative, the transfer shows fine detail, stable grain, nuanced contrast, and saturated yet controlled colors, with minimal print wear. The remastered stereo soundtrack offers clean dialogue and a spacious musical presence that complements the imagery without harshness or distortion. Together, image and audio upgrades make revisiting the film a distinct pleasure and help its stylistic flourishes register with clarity. For classic-cinema collectors and Minnelli admirers, this edition solidifies the film’s value beyond its mixed reputation and strengthens the case for discovery or reassessment.