Fear and Desire Blu-ray Review

The Blu-ray presentation of Stanley Kubrick's "Fear and Desire," available for the first time in an official home video release through Kino-Lorber, offers an intriguing glimpse into the director's early work with a 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer straight from a rare 35mm print restored by the Library of Congress. Viewers should manage their expectations regarding the condition of the film; it retains a certain authenticity with no apparent digital touch-ups such as edge enhancement or noise reduction. This approach ensures the grain structure remains entirely natural, although this means some age-related artifacts, such as white flecks, mild jitters, and brightness fluctuations are present. Despite these minor distractions, the film’s presentation maintains its original charm and grit without excessive digital cleanup, presenting an experience close to viewing an original print, complete with sporadic vignettes due to how the film was shot.

The level of clarity and detail achieved in this Blu-ray edition far surpasses that of previous unofficial copies, showcasing Kubrick's use of chiaroscuro lighting and detailed close-ups with improved contrast, although some scenes may exhibit a slightly flat appearance attributed to the source material. The black and white gradation is strong, enhancing the visual drama and depth of the film. The restoration work shines through in long stretches of the movie where previous issues like dirt, scratches, and warping are significantly minimized, revealing beautiful textures and sharp details especially evident in extreme close-up shots.

Despite some inconsistencies in the picture quality due to the film’s age and the condition of the used print, including occasional vignetting and minor picture warping, the Blu-ray offers a commendable high-definition experience. The absence of digital overprocessing allows for an authentic presentation, preserving the film's original aesthetics. Contrast levels are generally solid throughout, contributing to a viewing experience that is likely the best available option for home viewers, arguably only surpassed by rare 35mm screenings at select venues. This release effectively balances preserving historical authenticity with offering a visually pleasing watch, making it a valuable addition for collectors and cinephiles alike.

Kino's release of "Fear and Desire" on Blu-ray is presented with an uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 stereo track that, despite the inherent limitations of the film's original production, manages to deliver its audio components with notably clear distinction. Given the film's modest budget and the fact that director Stanley Kubrick opted to shoot without live sound, adding dialogues and effects in post-production, the audio track does exhibit certain characteristics that betray its dubbing origins; dialogues sound somewhat theatrical and staged, with effects like gunfire and airplane noises coming across as less than potent. The orchestral score by Gerald Fried, although displaying a slight thinness at the high end, contributes effectively to the film's atmosphere, offering a commendable auditory presence.

On the downside, the Blu-ray's audio transfer isn't free from flaws. There's a persistent background noise—a mix of whirs and hums—along with sporadic, distracting bluster sounds that could be mistaken for off-camera noises rather than intentional elements of the film's soundscape. This constant auditory interference mars the potential for truly quiet moments within the movie, pulling the viewer out of the experience. Additionally, the dialogue is tarnished by occasional hisses, and while the score remains relatively clear it suffers from overly shrill high notes. Such issues underscore a pressing need for a substantial restoration effort to elevate the track to a quality more befitting modern standards.

The most significant oversight, perhaps, is Kino's decision not to include subtitles, which could have greatly assisted in navigating Sidney's more indiscernible monologues and in mitigating some of the track's deficiencies. As it stands, "Fear and Desire's" audio presentation on Blu-ray captivates with its clarity and orchestral depth but is considerably hindered by technical shortcomings and an absence of accessibility options that would otherwise enhance the viewing experience for a broader audience.

The Blu-ray extras for "Fear and Desire" notably feature The Seafarers, Stanley Kubrick's first color film and a 1953 industrial documentary commissioned by The Seafarers International Union. This 28-minute piece veers away from Kubrick's traditional cinematic style, focusing instead on the union's benefits, including medical support and collective bargaining, essentially serving as an extended commercial for the SIU. Despite its divergence from Kubrick's hallmark filmmaking techniques, the documentary is noteworthy for a few signature shots that betray Kubrick's early directorial touch. Its value may be most appreciated by die-hard Kubrick aficionados or historians keen on the evolution of his directorial eye, offering a rare glimpse into his formative years behind the camera.

Extras included in this disc:

• The Seafarers: A 1953 industrial documentary directed by Stanley Kubrick, showcasing the advantages of the Seafarers International Union for its members.

Stanley Kubrick's debut narrative feature, "Fear and Desire," historically dismissed by the director as a misguided venture into filmmaking, has finally secured a proper release, transcending its past obscurity to become accessible to a wider audience. Thanks to Kino-Lorber, with aid from a Library of Congress restoration, this 1953 war allegory emerges from the shadows in high-definition splendor, introducing viewers to Kubrick's nascent yet palpable directorial prowess. While not achieving the monumental status of Kubrick's later works, "Fear and Desire" nonetheless embeds itself as a crucial piece in understanding the evolution of a cinematic genius. The film intricately weaves the tale of soldiers stranded behind enemy lines, delving into themes emblematic of Kubrick's oeuvre: the duality of man, existential dread, and the absurdity of conflict.

Despite its ambitious thematic exploration and moments of compelling visual storytelling, "Fear and Desire" is freighted with the hallmarks of inexperience—uneven pacing, overwrought dialogues penned by Howard Sackler, and performances that occasionally veer into exaggeration. Yet, within these imperfections lie the germ of Kubrick's eventual mastery. The film features striking sequences that hint at his later stylistic trademarks, including meticulous cinematography and a probing look into humanity's darker recesses. Notably, the dual roles played by actors Kenneth Harp and Stephen Coit underscore the film's meditation on identity and the universality of human experience across enemy lines.

"Fear and Desire" stands as a testament to the developmental journey of artistic vision, showcasing Kubrick's preliminary steps toward cinematic greatness. Although marred by its technical and narrative shortcomings, the film fascinatingly encapsulates the raw potential that would define Kubrick's career. Moreover, the Blu-ray release marks a significant moment for cinephiles and scholars alike, offering a glimpse into the embryonic stages of what would become one of the most illustrious careers in film history. Through its inclusion in Kubrick's filmography, "Fear and Desire" invites a reconsideration of early works in an artist's oeuvre—not as missteps but as indispensable stages in the crucible of creativity.

Stanley Kubrick's inaugural narrative feature, "Fear and Desire," emerges as an essential, albeit controversial, piece of cinema history. Despite Kubrick's own retrospective criticism of the film for its amateurish qualities and somewhat forced poeticism, this early work offers a compelling glimpse into the evolution of a cinematic genius. The film is characterized by moments of ingenuity, notably a frantic murder montage and starkly evocative cinematography, which hint at the director's future brilliance. The recent release by Kino-Lorber, in cooperation with the Library of Congress, significantly enhances accessibility to this once elusive film, replacing the inferior bootlegged DVDs and VHS tapes with a high-quality Blu-ray edition. This release is heralded as not just a win for Kubrick completists but as a valuable encounter for all cinephiles.

However, the decision to unearth "Fear and Desire" has not been without its detractors. The film's re-emergence has sparked debate regarding its impact on Kubrick's meticulously curated legacy. Viewers are left to reconcile the raw, unrefined aspects of this work with the polished excellence that defines Kubrick's later productions. The Blu-ray itself is presented with commendable quality, suggesting its potential as a prized possession for dedicated fans, even as it provokes mixed feelings about witnessing a master's humble beginnings.

In conclusion, the Blu-ray release of "Fear and Desire" presents a pivotal opportunity to engage with Stanley Kubrick's nascent directorial vision. While it forces a confrontation with the imperfections at the dawn of a legendary career, it also enriches our understanding of Kubrick's developmental trajectory. This edition is an indispensable artifact for those committed to exploring the depths of cinematic history, offering both a testament to Kubrick's evolving genius and a reminder of the raw potential from which mastery springs.