Domino
"I've always said that
I'm sort of macho in terms of my personal life, in terms of like, to do dangerous
things, in terms of rock climbing; I like to do things that make me scared. But
the most scariest days of my life are the days that I'm filming, and they're scary
because I'm scared of failure. I'm scared I'm not going to satisfy not just myself,
but satisfy my film family, my larger family. I want people to like what I do,
and I'm scared that I'm going to fail in doing that. So that's why every morning
when I wake up, I'm always bolt upright 5 minutes before the alarm clock, whether
I've had 1 hour's sleep, 2 hours' sleep or 10 hours' sleep-I don't get 10 hours'
sleep, my max is about 5-I'm always bolt upright in fear, in fear of failure,
in fear of not actually making my mark, in fear I haven't been able to execute
what I wanted to do creatively as good as I could have done it. I think it's healthy
to have that fear. I wake up with that same fear whether I'm doing a commercial
or whether I'm doing a major movie, and I think my fear with Domino was
that I kept pushing the boundaries in terms of what could be perceived as 'too
rock 'n roll' and then being silly."
That
Tony Scott can get this close to recognizing where his 2005 film came up
short (and why he ought to be getting his blood pressure monitored on a regular
basis) is just one of many instances that make the New Line Home Entertainment
Platinum Series Widescreen release (N10136, $28) an outstanding DVD, well worth
exploring and contemplating if you have any interest at all in the art of making
movies or the dynamics of Hollywood. You don't have to like the film. In fact,
Scott got somewhat carried away with his visual experiments and the film is rather
difficult to like. No one beyond a handful of investors cares if the movie returned
a profit. Domino is a failure because it doesn't entertain well, because
its many deliberately unmatching elements never line up, and because ultimately,
it doesn't escape Hollywood as much as it is pretending to.
Domino
Harvey was the daughter of the actor, Lawrence Harvey, who passed away
while she was still a child. Although sent to boarding schools around the world,
her home was basically Los Angeles, and she even had a career as a runway model
when she was a teenager before discovering her true calling as a California bounty
hunter, running down bail jumpers. In a just world, Harold Robbins would
rise from his grave to write this story, and it would make a heck of a TV series-a
La Femme Nikita for the real world or an up-to-date Honey West. Scott read
about Harvey and was the moviemaker, out of all of the moviemakers who probably
read the same article, to secure the rights for making a film of her adventures.
He explains on the DVD's supplement that the first screenwriters kept the narrative
too realistic, too close to docudrama. Then he finally lit upon Richard Kelly
- the director of Donnie Darko - who has never allowed reality to get in
the way of anything. As Kelly sensibly explains to Harvey in a great 20-minute
audio interview (a session he was taping for notes) included on the DVD, "Part
of the whole process of making this movie is the blur between fact and fiction,
and the fact being there are real people who are being characterized on the screen,
and the 'fiction' being creating a fictional story about them. You're entering
a mythology where you take someone like Wild Bill Hickok or Wyatt Earp,
and you take them on a fictional adventure. At the same time, you try to be true
to the origins of that character, and when you put them in that adventure, you
kind of stay faithful to the spirit of who that person is."
What
Kelly came up with, however, did not follow that plan very neatly. Introductory
scenes are presented in flashback as a job the heroes have undertaken spins way
out of control. Once the flashbacks are over, the plot alters its direction twice
in a disjointed manner, first stopping in the desert as the heroine, played by
Keira Knightley, and her companions come down from being poisoned with
mescaline, and then concluding the primary crime story-about returning money stolen
from mobsters instead of anything having to do with bail jumping-in a typical
Hollywood blockbuster finale that depicts the destruction of a major Las Vegas
landmark. Kelly, who shares the movie's commentary intercut with Scott, tries
to justify his choices by suggesting that it is the heroine's mind who is spinning
out of control, and in his defense, it was Scott that insisted on using the landmark
instead of a less distinctive location, but that choice belies the film's premise-a
realistic portrait of modern day bounty hunters-and is so absurd that viewers
investing in the unglamorous verisimilitude of the first act are going to feel
over charged. There are other, minor failures that the DVD supplements also magnify,
notably the application of 'flow chart' visuals in the film to explain the complexities
of the stolen money plot. Flow charts are what people who sit in boardrooms make
when they want to view connections. Dominoes is a game about connections that
people who live on the streets play. To have such a useful symbol so tantalizingly
close and to not take advantage of it is both maddening and wasteful.
When
film stylists in the past have advanced the cinematic grammar, it has been controversial,
and there are always detractors who claim that the innovations were worthless,
but there was also always a sense, when you were watching such passages, that
the filmmaker was in total control, and was drawing you along and pressing exactly
the buttons in you that he wanted to press. Sam Peckinpah's action scenes
in The Wild Bunch are an easy example, but even Oliver Stone's manipulations
in Any Given Sunday were spellbinding. What Scott has tried to do for the
visual storytelling in Domino, however, step-processing the images to create
jitters and blurs in the movements and colors, just doesn't work. It is alienating
rather than involving. It doesn't guide you through the emotions of the narrative,
it confuses you instead, flitting about as if nobody in the movie is important
enough to savor. Scott really, really wanted to push the bar with Domino, and
he speaks extensively about how various shots were achieved on the commentary-there
is also a good 11-minute featurette about it; he even used old hand-cranked cameras-but
he pushed the bar too high and couldn't jump over it. The suggestion that these
tricks symbolize confusion in the heroine's soul doesn't justify their technical
shortcomings. You're less involved with the characters and less interested in
their actions because you spend too much time trying to figure out what is happening.
There is no emotional focus, just frantic distraction. What is really going on
with the film's look and style is a last desperate, die-hard effort to justify
the utilization of film over digital video. In the commentary, Kelly even claims
that there are subjects-such as a realistic drama set in the Seventies-where using
video would be inappropriate because the 'look' doesn't match the 'look' such
movies had in the Seventies. But he doesn't get it, and Scott doesn't get it.
Digital video is replacing film because it can-or will soon-imitate anything film
can do, more efficiently and cheaply. And all of this elaborate in-camera risk-taking
and complex processing comes to naught, because viewers just assume that he is
altering the images digitally in any case.
The
letterboxing has an aspect ratio of about 2.35:1 and an accommodation for enhanced
16:9 playback. The transfer is undoubtedly accurate. The 5.1-channel Dolby Digital
sound with EX-encoding is as fragmented as everything else and while it is reasonably
detailed, it, too, lacks the kind of throughline that would make amplification
appealing. There is a crisper, better-detailed DTS track with ES-encoding. The
128-minute program has optional English and Spanish subtitles.
The
commentary by Scott and Kelly was recorded around the time of the film's theatrical
release, before they were fully aware of how it would be received by viewers.
Scott is not in denial the way some filmmakers are when doing commentaries for
films that few, other than themselves, admire, but he is optimistic about what
he has achieved, still excited about all of his experiments, and legitimately
concerned about having done justice to the spirits of the characters.
In
addition to the standard commentary, there is a fascinating second audio track,
roughly keyed to the unfolding of the film, culled from Scott's recordings of
his story meetings with Kelly and producer Zach Schiff-Abrams. Whether
they are brainstorming over what sort of celebrity masks the robbers should be
wearing or discussing when and how parts of the story should be explained, the
conversations reveal how some of the puzzle parts of a movie get put together
when a screenplay is prepared for shooting, and it also depicts Scott and Kelly
in the act of making the choices that will ultimately compromise the film's capacity
to entertain. Additionally, Tom Waits has a cameo role in the film and
during that segment, he and Scott can be heard going over his approach to the
part.
Two trailers
are featured, as are 8 minutes of deleted scenes, the latter filling in unnecessary
backstory and accompanied by an optional Scott commentary. Finally, to give the
DVD a sense of completeness that is beyond the reach of the film, there is a good
20-minute profile of Harvey, who unexpectedly died a couple of months before the
film premiered. Where the movie might have failed to lift her out of the annals
of 'Hollywood Babylon,' the DVD resolutely succeeds, by fully demystifying the
mythmaking process.
March
2, 2006DVD
Roundup: This Week's DVD Releases
The
Review Vault
- by
Douglas Pratt
Douglas Pratt's DVD-Laser Disc Newsletter
is published monthly.
For a free sample, call (516)594-9304 or go to his
website at www.DVDLaser.com