I’m Kinda OK with Hollywood Being on Pause

I'm Kinda OK with Hollywood Being on Pause

The Souvenir

I agree with Mike. I’m unconvinced by John Sciacca’s arguments about why movies might get better as a result of production delays.


But I do agree with John about one thing: There’s a major upside to the ongoing delays and shutdowns in Hollywood. With the tide of new content rolling in much more slowly, my wife and I finally have the opportunity to catch up on all the movies and TV shows we’ve let slip by in the past few years. And we’re both finding that—having missed the zeitgeist and the flurry of 

conversations surrounding these releases when they were new—we’re able to enjoy this content on our own terms, at our own pace.


We’ve recently, for example, started digging into The Witcher, the Netflix adaptation of Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski’s folklore-inspired fantasy series. As the credits rolled on the first episode, my wife turned to me and exclaimed, “Why did we wait so long to watch this?”


Well, our daughter was in town the week it dropped last year, and then there was Christmas, and by the time New Year’s celebrations settled down and we had time to sit down for some new entertainment, the sixth season of Grace and Frankie was out, and . . . look, there’s only so much time in the day and only so many days in a week. We forgot about one squirrel and started chasing a newer one.


Am I a little sad that the release of Marvel’s Black Widow, originally slated for May 2020, got pushed back indefinitely? Absolutely. In an alternate universe, my wife would be queuing it up on our Kaleidescape Strato tonight. Instead, I think we’ll give Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir a spin, since it didn’t even make a blip on our radar when it was released last year (to be fair, an unusually exceptional year for new cinema). Or maybe we’ll finish watching the amazing Imagineering Story on Disney+, which we somehow managed to forget about after four episodes.


I’ve also been itching to sit my wife down in front of Toshiya Fujita’s Lady Snowblood and Akira Kurosawa’s Kumonosu-jō (aka Throne of Blood) for years now, but there just never 

seems to be the time. There’s always something new, something shiny, something tempting right over the horizon. And while few of these baubles ever truly measure up to the classics we’ve been meaning to watch or re-watch, they always seem to somehow find their way to the front of the line.


So, while I hope that Denis Villeneuve’s Dune manages to make its December 2020 target release date, and while I’ll certainly watch Wonder Woman 1984 the minute I can get my nerdy front paws on it, I’m kind of OK with the fact that the torrent of new releases has been reduced to a trickle. I’m not happy about the fact that so many creative types are out of work at the moment, mind you. But I’m glad I finally have the time to dig a little deeper into the home entertainment back catalog, the surface of which I only manage to scratch in any given year.

Dennis Burger

Dennis Burger is an avid Star Wars scholar, Tolkien fanatic, and Corvette enthusiast
who somehow also manages to find time for technological passions including high-
end audio, home automation, and video gaming. He lives in the armpit of 
Alabama with
his wife Bethany and their four-legged child Bruno, a 75-pound 
American Staffordshire
Terrier who thinks he’s a Pomeranian.

The Future of the Movies, Pt. 1

The Future of the Movies, Pt. 1

The only thing we know for sure about the future of the movies is that we don’t really know anything for sure—which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. All forms of filmmaking have been stuck in a rut for a couple of decades now. Closing the movie theaters, which were quickly becoming relics anyway, and shutting down production indefinitely could be just what the doctor ordered. The problem is, a band-aid can’t fix this—the entire art form needs to be reimagined from its genetic code on up.


In “Could Theatrical Delays Make Movies Better?” John Sciacca puts a positive spin on the whole dire situation, proposing that the lockdowns and other restrictions give the movie studios and theaters time they wouldn’t otherwise have to spruce things up. Those are pleasant thoughts, but I think they’re quickly brought down to earth by the harsh economic realities, and 

by an even more intractable and reliably counterproductive force—human nature.


Economic realities first: Movies are already stupidly expensive to make, and the studios are currently taking a huge financial hit because they can’t release theatrically what would have potentially been their biggest moneymakers of the year. The last thing they’re going to do during an era of massive belt-tightening is invest any extra money—which can quickly skyrocket into the many millions—in the off hope it will somehow improve an already finished film.


For instance, nobody’s going to even think about mucking around with a Pixar film once it’s locked and loaded. Conceiving and executing even the smallest changes means deploying many, many people and much processing power—and quickly running up a tab that could keep every resident of a medium-sized American city well nourished for a year.


Also, even the most brilliant and seasoned professionals can lose their feel for a project once they think they’ve 

wrapped it up, so being able to dig in again can result in changes and additions that, at best, feel off-key.


As for movie theaters: Most theater owners haven’t made a dime in months. They know they’ll be lucky to open their doors anytime soon and don’t know if anyone will show up once they do. They’re spending way more time thinking about new ways to push more Milk Duds—which is where they make their real money—than they are pining for a new Atmos system.


As for human nature: The number of people who work better given all the time and money in the world is infinitesimally small; the number of people who can do better creative work under those circumstances is even smaller. The truth nobody wants to admit to is that almost everybody needs some kind of gun to their head to take any significant task from conception to completion.


Freedom can be a wonderful thing—if you know how to cherish it and how to maximize the opportunity you’ve been given. Most people are neither that brilliant nor that bold—or they wouldn’t keep making the same silly genre- and franchise-driven films over and over and over again.


Most filmmakers do their best work when they’re chafing at and pushing back against constraints—there’s nothing like being seriously pissed off to get the creative juices flowing. And most filmmakers unravel when they’re handed a blank check—partly because it tends to reveal that most filmmakers have no clothes. How many well-heeled film-school grads have worked their way up to a “A Film by ____” credit only to churn out a series of exercises in formless indulgence that serve better as sleep aids than entertainment?


Sorry, more time and money might result in some slightly better movies—that monkeys & typewriters thing again—but the odds are seriously against it.


But I don’t disagree with John on one crucial point: That the current crises could present some hugely positive opportunities—possibly even a chance to storm the Hollywood Bastille. Which will be the subject of my Part Two.

Michael Gaughn

Michael Gaughn—The Absolute Sound, The Perfect Vision, Wideband, Stereo Review,
Sound & Vision, The Rayva Roundtablemarketing, product design, some theater designs,
couple TV shows, some commercials, and now this.

INXS: Live Baby Live

INXS: Live Baby Live

We don’t often review concerts here at Cineluxe, mainly because not a lot of them come out featuring 4K HDR video and Dolby Atmos audio. (We did review Hans Zimmer: Live in Prague, which while only in HD quality did feature an engaging Atmos soundtrack.) So, when INXS: Live Baby Live received a full 4K HDR restoration from Eagle Vision following a limited-

engagement theatrical run at the end of 2019, it seemed like a perfect candidate for review.


I graduated high school in the late ‘80s—the height of INXS’ popularity—and I’m a big fan of the band’s music. Their albums Listen Like Thieves, Kick, and X—from which this show draws much of its material – were in regular rotation in my car’s Sony Disc Jockey 10-disc CD changer. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to see them perform live before lead singer Michael Hutchence committed suicide in November 1997, putting an end to the band.


This show was captured in July 13, 1991 with INXS performing in front of a sold-out crowd of nearly 74,000 fans at London’s Wembley Stadium.


According to, director David Mallet (who has also filmed the likes of Peter Gabriel, Queen, 


This 1991 concert gets a 4K HDR upgrade that puts you in the middle of the massive Wembley crowd—without having to deal with all the sweaty bodies. 



The frenetic cutting might not be to everyone’s taste, and wider shots tend to look more HD than UHD, but the 4K excels in the closeups.



The Atmos soundtrack is the real star of the show, with an evocative mix that sounds realistic and huge.

AC/DC, Elton John, U2, and Pink Floyd) used 17 cameras and a helicopter to capture this concert on 35mm film, which has been painstakingly restored from the original negatives over a six-month period to 4K Ultra HD. The show is presented in a more cinematic widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio, which was created “by going through the film shot by shot and repositioning every one to get the best out of the frame.” The new Dolby Atmos soundtrack was “created by the band’s Executive Music Producer Giles Martin and Sam Okell at Abbey Road Studios.”


INXS’ performance was part of a larger event called “Summer XS,” which also featured performances by Jesus Jones, Deborah Harry (aka “Blondie” and I hate that I might have to explain that to anyone!), and The Hothouse Flowers. This explains the relatively “short” 98-minute performance, but believe me, the concert certainly doesn’t feel short, and more than makes up for any lack of time with an abundance of energy.


I’ve only ever been to one live stadium show, Taylor Swift’s “Reputation Stadium Tour” back in 2018, but the contrast between these two performances was interesting. Where Swift used all manner of technology at her disposal, including giant-sized sets and props, multiple backup singers and dancers, elaborate video screens and pyrotechnics, INXS just took to the stage by themselves and proceeded to kill it for 98 straight minutes. There are no gimmicks or crutches here—no overdubs or vocal backing tracks, no guest performers or added members to fill out the band, just Hutchence and the other five band members at the height of their career pouring themselves into the songs, with Hutchence seeming to gain more vocal strength and energy as the show goes on.


You can see the packed house at Wembley falling under Hutchence spell, with 74,000 bodies writhing and moving in time to the beat, jumping, dancing, digging, and hanging onto his every note. It is as powerful a performance as you’re likely to see, reminiscent of Freddy Mercury’s hold over the crowd at the same venue just a few years before.


Watching the concert also made me appreciate just how much I prefer to be enjoying this show from the comfort of my home theater with a well-made martini in hand. If you look closely, it appears that several people are pulled out of the seething mass of bodies after passing out. Being able to enjoy this in peace and comfort rather than being trapped in the suffocating and claustrophobic scrum at the front rows at Wembley is a pleasure beyond words.


The set list features 22 songs, including most of the band’s biggest hits to that time, with the notable absences including “The One Thing,” “Listen Like Thieves,” and “This Time.” (The show precedes Welcome to Wherever You Are and doesn’t feature any tracks from that album.) Even still, there is plenty from start to finish that will have you rocking out, and I dare say if you don’t find your head bobbing and your toes tapping at multiple points along the way, you might want to check your pulse.


With so many camera angles and shots to choose from, I did notice that the view jumps around quite a bit, which you’ll either like or you won’t. The view changes almost every few seconds, whether to a different performer, perspective, angle, wide, or crowd shot. This can make for a dynamic viewing experience, but if you like a concert film that mostly stays back and keeps the band in frame, this editing might be a little frenetic for you.


Interestingly, my Marantz processor listed the video format as 4K/50Hz, which is unusual for US films. Kaleidescape explained that the film was natively filmed by Eagle Vision for their UK audience, so it is native 25 frames-per-second, not the 24 fps of US movies. However, Kaleidescape claims this shouldn’t pose any compatibility or weird motion issues, and I certainly didn’t notice any.


While it is a 4K HDR transfer, I’d say the video quality can be a mixed bag. Some lengthy shots (from the helicopter?) and pans of the crowd can be a mess, almost veering into VHS quality, whereas closeups of the band are sharp and detailed and 

mostly look terrific. On the whole, I’d say the concert is more HD-looking than UHD, and you likely won’t use this to show off how great your video system looks. Having said that, the video quality is definitely well beyond serviceable and puts you in the middle of the performance.


Image quality starts to really improve after about 30 minutes into the show when the sun has mostly set at Wembley, and you can far better appreciate the stage lighting, with the bright colors and lights getting some nice pop from HDR. HDR also helps with the shadow detail, as lights play across the performers as they walk in and out of bright spots. You also get some good color saturation from the stage lights or Kirk Pengilly’s incredibly saturated red suit. There is a bit of grain in some of the early sky shots and in stage lighting, but it is organic and inoffensive.


But make no mistake, the audio is the star of the show here, and you’ll want to get the full lossless True HD Atmos soundtrack from the 4K disc or Kaleidescape download to fully appreciate the performance. The presentation is huge. In fact, one of my listening notes says, “Doesn’t sound like a studio mix at all; sounds like a big, fat, giant stadium concert experience!” Audio is primarily spread across the front channels and mixed up into the front height speakers, creating a massive wall of sound, but there are tons of ambience, reverb, and crowd noise mixed into 

INXS: Live Baby Live

the side and rear surround speakers to immerse you in the experience and put you right in the middle of Wembley. You know, without all the sweating bodies.


Bass starts off big and huge during “Guns in the Sky” and has that deep, thump-you-in-the-chest quality of a stadium PA system, letting you easily feel it in your seat. The bass-heavy mix is also a great way to demo the benefits of your system’s room correction. Turning Audyssey off on my processor caused the bass to become kind of a flat, one-dimensional affair with little focus or impact, where re-engaging it just tightened the screws on the low frequencies and gave them way more punch and slam.


Featuring just a couple more F-Bombs than Hamilton (typically when Hutchence is engaging the crowd), Live Baby Live is 99% family-friendly, and a great way to introduce younger listeners to one of the great bands of the ‘80s. If you haven’t enjoyed a concert in your home theater, this makes for a fun evening that will have you rocking and singing along while taking you back nearly 30 years. Like a great album, this is a show you’ll likely find yourself returning to, and with Kaleidescape’s pre-bookmarked songs, it makes jumping straight to your favorites “What You Need”!

John Sciacca

Probably the most experienced writer on custom installation in the industry, John Sciacca is
co-owner of Custom Theater & Audio in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina, & is known for his writing
for such publications as
 Residential Systems and Sound & Vision. Follow him on Twitter at

@SciaccaTweets and at

Could Theatrical Delays Make Movies Better?

Could Theatrical Delays Make Movies Better?

Pixar’s Soul

Movie theaters are closed, the best films have been getting pushed back (well, except for Hamilton, so there’s that), and new film production has been put on hold, and I get that that all sucks—but I’m thinking there might actually be some upside to this, hopefully making the experience even better when we are finally able to return to the movie theater or get some great

new content to watch at home!


More Time = Better Results

You ever watch those cooking shows where chefs are furiously working down to the very last, “Hands up, utensils down!” second? That is basically every Hollywood production schedule. They are working on these films till practically the very last second to ensure they are as good as possible, tightening the edits, effects, and story. For a perfect example of this, check out Into the Unknown: Making Frozen II on Disney+, which shows just how many people and moving parts, and how much work, are involved in bringing a major film to the screen.


But now studios have all been given the greatest commodity of all—time—to go back to hone these films that were supposed to already have been released and tweak them to perfection. This is the equivalent of an extra hour in the kitchen, and instead of not completing a sauce or forgetting a garnish, they can deliver a perfect plate.


And while working on new productions on soundstages and in offices has mostly ceased, a lot of this effect and finishing work can be performed remotely, meaning Hollywood could be hard at work behind the scenes to make these upcoming releases truly impressive.


Writers Can Write . . . and Rewrite

Banging out a script is often a furious process under a tight deadline that involves lots of changes and rewrites, with others frequently brought in to help improve or punch up the material, often happening on the very day of shooting. And

you know what can be a total suck to the creative process? A looming deadline. Sure, that proverbial clock ticking over your head might produce pages, but it doesn’t always result in the best, most original and creative work.


Writers will undoubtedly benefit from all of this forced time in isolation, letting them focus on crafting the best stories possible, or have extra time to go over and improve projects already in the pipeline that were delayed. Think about Disney/Pixar’s Soul, planned for June 19 and now waiting until November 20, or Morbius moving from July of this year to March 2021, or Fast 9 originally slated for a May 2020 release and now waiting almost a full year until April 2021. It’s not too much of a stretch to think that some of the best movies we’ll ever see are being written right now!


Theater Renovations

With theaters forced to close, owners now have the time and opportunity to do any needed renovations or upgrades. That seat with the hole in it? Get it repaired or replaced. Haven’t implemented a seat reservation system? Get on it. That one blown speaker or subwoofer that seems to plague at least one auditorium at the cineplex? Fix it. Been holding off on upgrading to an Atmos sound system because you didn’t want to close your biggest theater? Now’s the perfect time. Haven’t changed your projector lamp or balanced the sound system in a while? Get on it.


Theater chains know that people have enjoyed the opportunity to experience some first-run films in the comfort of their homes, and nothing is going to kill the momentum of a comeback like a sucky experience, meaning now is the perfect time to make sure their theaters are all in top order when they open back up.


Whether you’re excited for Tenet, Mulan, or the new Bond No Time to Die, here’s hoping Hollywood takes this extra time to give us the best experience when we’re able to get back to the movies!


John Sciacca

Probably the most experienced writer on custom installation in the industry, John Sciacca is
co-owner of Custom Theater & Audio in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina, & is known for his writing
for such publications as
 Residential Systems and Sound & Vision. Follow him on Twitter at

@SciaccaTweets and at

How to Listen: Nirvana

How to Listen: Nirvana

How to Listen: Nirvana


In Utero

Qobuz Hi-Res 24-bit/96kHz


Nirvana might be one of the last bands you’d think about when the subject of audiophile recordings comes up. Yet, their two landmark albums—1991’s Nevermind and 1993’s In Utero—are admirable examples of how to record and produce rock records.


Nirvana was of course one of the key bands that brought grunge to a mainstream audience in the early 1990s. Nevermind featured “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” perhaps the single song that defines the grunge era, along with the irresistible earworm 

“Come As You Are.” In Utero was the worthy followup and featured the hits “Heart-Shaped Box” and “All Apologies.”


Want to see if your system can play loud and rock? You’ll know after playing these records, assuming you don’t blow a speaker in the process. These typhoon-intensity sonic assaults “want” to be played at volume. (Well, you really don’t have to—the recordings sound fine at neighbor-friendly levels, but if you want to hear what the band and producers Butch Vig and Steve Albini really had in mind you have to let them rip.)


Nevermind was produced by Vig and In Utero by Albini, two very different individuals, and yet, having listened to them back to back, I was struck by how similar the albums sound. Maybe it’s because after Albini sent In Utero in to the record company, the label thought it was too raw, and the band and another producer, Scott Litt, had to go back and make changes (Albini refused)—undoubtedly with Nevermind casting a very large shadow. That said, overall Nevermind is brighter and more open, In Utero darker and sludgier.


If you think grunge music equals sloppy playing, the first thing you’ll be struck by on both albums is just how tight they are. This isn’t the sound of three guys playing off the cuff—these are multi-layered, carefully crafted productions, with numerous overlaid guitars. I have far more respect for singer/guitarist/main songwriter Kurt Cobain as a musician now that I’ve revisited these records. His playing is rhythmically exact, in tune, and roaring, thanks to his use of distortion and chorus pedals. His vocals are frequently multitracked, typically with a main vocal front and center and background parts off to the sides. Dave Grohl’s drumming has tremendous impact and presence.


Cobain favored distorted power chords and jarring riffs and sang in a vocal-cord-ripping style alternating with more intimate singing. (In interviews, he acknowledged that Nirvana’s “loud-soft-loud” style was influenced by the Pixies, who earlier had codified this approach.) Grohl played drums with masterful technical prowess and sang background vocals and Krist Novoselic laid down a tight, in-the-pocket bass groove.


On a good system, the kick drum should pound and wallop 

and the snare should drive the band like a whip driving a horse. Songs like “Very Ape” (Nevermind) show that these guys were a killer band, and you should feel the rhythmic drive and physical presence of the music. (Although Nirvana was never one of my favorites—IMHO, the songwriting is uneven—tracks like this make me wish I’d seen them live.)


If there’s one “How to Listen” takeaway from these records, it’s that beyond what’s been mentioned already, what you should listen for are the studio effects and how they’re applied, and how well your system reveals them.

These aren’t recordings where the sounds of the vocals and instruments are set at the beginning of the sessions and then left alone. Everything’s tweaked with every track. Some things to listen for:


The equalization, or “EQ,” of each instrument and vocal track—the proportion of bass, midrange, and high frequencies—can be altered, and Vig and Albini use this to deliberate artistic effect. For example, the bass in “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is rumbly and indistinct, whereas on “In Bloom,” the higher harmonics (overtones) of the bass are clearly heard. EQ is used on the drums to make the bass drum “kick” and emphasize the sound of the beater hitting the head, and on the snare to fatten it up or make it leaner, like a snapping branch.

How to Listen: Nirvana

Cobain’s voice is sometimes goosed with some added upper midrange (though this could be the choice of mics). On “Smells Like Teen Spirit” the guitars have a piercing upper-midrange and treble. Your ears will hurt when it’s played loud. By contrast, the guitars on “Come As You Are” have a mellower top end. Both albums have powerful bass with a lot of weight, and a palpable midrange.

How to Listen: Nirvana

Compression is used not only to even out the differences in volume between loud and soft sounds, but to give instruments like drums and bass added presence. Compression is all over the drums, to give them extra punch. Listen to the tom toms carefully. That isn’t the sound of naked drums in a room—they’re compressed to make them “sit” more evenly in the mix. Once you know to listen for this, it’s obvious.


Both albums avoid the excessive use of reverb and delay—in fact, the albums are on the “dry” side, which serves the music well. No cavernous 1980s Phil Collins “In the Air Tonight” drums here. The soundspaces of Nevermind and In Utero aren’t wide and deep and beyond the edges of the speakers; they’re more like a monolithic wall of thundering and snarling sound. There’s little left-right placement of 

instruments or even a sense that you’re listening in stereo except for some occasional panning of Cobain’s guitars, mostly during solos.


The mixes on both albums aren’t all that transparent. You won’t be listening for little tinkly bells or Cobain breathing. On Nevermind’s “Polly,” Cobain strums an acoustic guitar. In Utero’s “Dumb” features a cello. But both instruments sound flat and low-fi. If they don’t seem fleshed out, it’s not your system, it’s the fact that those subtleties aren’t there. Well, these aren’t subtle records and I’m pretty sure the last thing on VIg’s and Albini’s minds was whether audiophiles would be able to count the snares on Grohl’s snare drum or tell whether Cobain had put new strings on. This is rock and roll, not Diana Krall!


And I did mention that these records ask to be played loud. I had to try this: For my final listening, I played “Smells Like Teen Spirit” through our band’s PA speakers (currently residing in my basement). I blasted the song at a hellacious volume, over 102dB (I measured). Holy mother of gawd! What a glorious brain-frying racket! It sounded titanic! Certainly not audiophile-“correct,” but the freight-train decibel level blew all such cork-sniffer rationality aside.


I’d forgotten that rock and roll and volume not only go hand in hand, but are sometimes one and the same. Nirvana, Vig, and Albini didn’t.

Frank Doris

Frank Doris is the chief cook & bottle washer for Frank Doris/Public Relations and works with a
number of audio & music industry clients. He is also the editor of Copper magazine, a
professional guitarist, and a vinyl enthusiast with multiple turntables and thousands of records.



Apple TV+ snatched up Tom Hanks’ latest, Greyhound, as an exclusive for its relatively new streaming service after the film was moved from its original March 22 theatrical release date to May 8 and then to June 12. Apple has been looking for that “killer app” original programming to bolster and broaden its streaming offerings, and this Sony Pictures-produced World War II thriller is a strong choice. And at an estimated budget of $50.3 million, this is one of the biggest films to get a direct-to-streaming release thus far (unless you count the $75 million Disney paid for the worldwide rights to Hamilton).

Hanks is no stranger to starring in war films (Saving Private Ryan, Band of Brothers, Forrest Gump) or movies where water plays an integral role (Cast Away, Captain Phillips, Sully), and here he combines the two, playing Ernest Krause, a captain in the U.S. Navy commanding a World War II-era Fletcher-class destroyer (call sign “Greyhound”) on his first mission, leading a convoy of 37 Allied ships crossing the Atlantic loaded with soldiers and supplies for the front lines.


P.T. Barnum is credited with saying, “Always leave them wanting more,” and that is what I thought when Greyhound’s end credits started rolling. The film’s actual run time (less credits) is a brisk 81 minutes, making it feel a bit more like an episode in a series than a standalone feature film. Fortunately, it uses nearly each of those minutes to full potential, zipping by with a very tight story that contains virtually no fat.


This movie isn’t big on character development, but it does give you a great sense of what it was like to command a ship under siege by U-boats during World War II. 



HDR helps enhance the details in the film’s predominantly grey color palette while making it more vivid.



The Dolby Atmos mix helps capture the sense of a ship under attack, with sound waves from depth-charge explosions pressurizing your room and hitting you in the chest.

The movie begins by informing us of a treacherous area of the Atlantic beyond the range of Allied air cover known as the “Black Pit,” where German submarines—U-boats—hunt Allied convoys in lethal groups known as a “Wolfpack.” The multi-day crossing during the Battle of the Atlantic saw over 3,500 ships carrying millions of tons of cargo sunk, with over 72,000 souls lost. While the story is based on actual events, Greyhound is not a true story. Hanks actually penned the screenplay—his first feature-film writing credit since That Thing You Do! in 1996—based on C.S. Forester’s 1955 novel The Good Shepherd.


What is lost is any sort of character development. We learn nothing about anyone, and just get bits and pieces of information about Krause, who appears religious (he makes a point of praying several times) and whose sole motivation is to get as much of the convoy safely across the Atlantic as possible.


The one bit of backstory we do get before Krause ships off is that he wants to propose to his girlfriend Evelyn (Elisabeth Shue) on a beach, but that relationship—or any other—is never developed. In retrospect, this opening scene, in which Evelyn and Krause exchange Christmas presents, seems to be in the film solely as an opportunity for Krause to explain that he has finally been given command of his first destroyer before he heads off to training and then into active duty.


Besides that brief scene, the film maintains a laser focus on the Greyhound, and features Hanks in nearly every shot. We see the other ships in the convoy, but they are usually shown in the distance either via Krause’s view through binoculars or from high aerial shots. Krause communicates with other ships over the radios, but we never see crew aboard any other ships. We see the periscope, decks, and conning of the Wolfpack subs that crest and slice through the waters like a hunting shark’s fin—and even hear the “Grey Wolf” sub taunting Krause and the Greyhound over the radio—but the enemy remains faceless.


The short running time and focusing nearly entirely on Krause allows you to fully appreciate the absolute weight of command as he is forced to make virtually every decision, skipping meals and sleep during the treacherous crossing, and making life-and-death choices—either for himself or others in the convoy—nearly every minute. In some ways, the tightness and claustrophobic nature of many of the interiors aboard the Greyhound are reminiscent of a submarine film, but here we see the flip side of the coin, hunting the unseen sub, and launching patterns of depth charges and watching them explode the surface of the water instead of being inside the sub as they explode all around.


The film delivers an accurate portrayal of operations aboard a warship, with lots of orders being given then repeated back, multiple announcements of bearings and headings, and lots of navigation change orders in the form of left/right full/hard/standard rudder.


The CGI effects and attention to detail are impressive throughout, and short of an opening shot where a circling plane just looked a tad off, nothing pulls you out of the film.


Filmed in DXL Raw at 8K resolution, Greyhound is sourced from a true 4K digital intermediate, and the image quality is sharp and detailed throughout. Closeups reveal tons of detail, whether the pores in actors’ faces, the pebbled texture on helmets, the thick, heavy wool of a peacoat, or the detail on the ship’s instrumentation.


Viewers with capable displays can enjoy a Dolby Vision presentation; however, I was limited to HDR10. While much of the film is grey and gloomy—the ships, the ocean, the skies, even the drab olive greens of the sailors’ uniforms—there are still plenty of benefits from the added dynamic range, which generally creates more depth and realism. Whether it is bright light streaming into darkened interiors through port holes, pops of light from the ship’s instruments or interior lighting, emergency distress flares piercing the black night sky, or the bright red flames rolling out of ships on fire, images have plenty of punch when called for.


Sonically, the Dolby Atmos mix is fairly active with lots of atmospheric sounds to place you in the scene and aboard the ship. Whether inside the ship or on the deck, you hear waves crashing, the creaks and groans of the ship, the howl of the wind, the pings from the sonar room, PA announcements echoing through the overhead speakers, and off-camera voices.


Your subwoofer is also called on frequently to deliver some tactile bass, whether from waves rolling through the room, splashing up high on the front wall and overhead, and then crashing with bassy authority, or the ship’s engines thrumming with appropriate weight, or the deck guns engaging U-boats with a boom that you’ll feel in your seat. The biggest bass moments come from the explosion of depth charges, which will cause a good subwoofer to pressurize the air in the room and let you feel it in your chest.


Dialogue is mostly clear and intelligible—however, there are some moments where it’s a tad muffled, but this is usually coming from or in the sonar room with much going on.


Greyhound does not require much of a commitment in the way of time, but will definitely be enjoyable for those who like Hanks and/or WWII dramas, and it is streaming now for free on Apple TV+ (subscription required).

John Sciacca

Probably the most experienced writer on custom installation in the industry, John Sciacca is
co-owner of Custom Theater & Audio in Murrells Inlet, South Carolina, & is known for his writing
for such publications as
 Residential Systems and Sound & Vision. Follow him on Twitter at

@SciaccaTweets and at

What’s So Great About Color?

A few days ago, we ran Dennis Burger’s interview with Ray Harryhausen, where the justly revered special-effects genius talked about how happy he was with the colorized version of his 20 Million Miles to Earth. I know this is a touchy subject I can’t possibly begin to do justice to in the space allotted here, but colorization is bad—it has always been bad, and always will be. The fact that we’ve gotten better at it—like getting better at covering your tracks after a robbery—only compounds the crime.


There are so many ways to approach this, but let’s start with this: Why do we need everything to be in color? Why did the idea take root that black & white is somehow inferior? Are Dürer’s or Doré’s engravings or Ernst’s collages in any way inferior to their work in color—or any other artist’s work in color? How about Stieglitz’ or Walker Evans’ or Weegee’s photos? Does the

fact that Chaplin’s and Keaton’s films were shot in black & white—let alone Murnau’s, Eisenstein’s, and Griffith’s—make them inherently inferior to later, color films?


Then there’s the notion that color films look more realistic. Really? When was the last time you saw a movie where the color palette even came within spitting distance of reality? Movies are so heavily manipulated in post now that they look like the colorist let his six-year-old daughter loose on the file with a set of neon Sharpies. Yes, 4K HDR is capable of more accurately reproducing reality but the sad truth is that our addiction to retreating into superficial fantasy means practically no one takes advantage of what the tools can actually do.

Another argument is that colorization is a way to get jaded people raised on color media (in other words, Millennials) to check out older material. Not only is that cynical pandering, it assumes that it’s the black & white that makes these older movies and shows somehow irrelevant.


The only self-consistent explanation is that the need to colorize is part of the current mania to obliterate the past and to desensitize ourselves into an oblivious stupor. Eradicating black & white via color is akin to filling every movie with more and more gunplay, grosser and grosser gags, bigger, louder, deeper explosions, and greater and greater levels of intolerance.


Black & white, on the other hand, has traditionally been associated with things like sophistication (say, Lubitsch comedies or Astaire/Rogers musicals) and noir (take your pick), mainly because grayscale evokes both subtlety and ambiguity in ways color tends to obscure. So it’s not surprising we would want to annihilate anything that elegant and restrained, because allowing its vital progeny to run around loose would be an annoying reminder that the present is rarely a significant improvement on the past.


A colorization booster would say, “Why do you care what they do to some ‘50s monster flick—or some Shirley Temple movie, or some ‘50s sitcom?” But where do you draw the line—especially given how voracious and indiscriminate the people with their hands on the cultural levers have become?


The “Why do you care?” argument is inherently elitist—especially at a time when we like to pretend that all creative expression has been flattened to the level of pop culture (kind of like the apparatchiks using bureaucracy to enforce mediocrity during the Soviet era). I Love Lucy and the first season of Bewitched have been colorized, and that’s somehow OK because they’re “just” sitcoms (ignoring for the moment that Lucy was shot by Metropolis cinematographer Karl Freund).


What about something like The Dick Van Dyke Show? That’s just some old black & white sitcom, right? Except that it was beautifully captured by veteran Studio Era DP Robert De Grasse, and that its black & white ethos is redolent with the best still photography of the time, of the most sophisticated films, of magazine layouts for Christian Dior and Yves Saint Laurent. In other words, it’s the very essence and epitome of that too brief era of American Enlightenment. Dick Van Dyke in color is no longer Dick Van Dyke—which is one reason why Carl Reiner decided not to switch over to color halfway through the series’ run.


Colorizing it now would go directly against the creators’ intent—that last an always dubious notion that has become inherently hypocritical and virtually meaningless now—and couldn’t result in anything but a curiosity, at best, and a travesty at worst.*


The notion that the addiction to color could creep from the world of monster films and I Love Lucy to, say, classic noir or early Godard should scare the crap out of anyone. It’s a path we should have never begun to venture down and needs to be nipped in the bud. Just because we can do something doesn’t mean we should.


What would be the colorization equivalent of nuclear deterrence?

Michael Gaughn

What's So Great About Color?

(* While doing my due diligence before publication, I discovered that some war criminal has actually committed that atrocity. Hopefully there’s a circle in Hell—preferably right below Satan’s crotch—reserved just for colorists.)

Michael Gaughn—The Absolute Sound, The Perfect Vision, Wideband, Stereo Review,
Sound & Vision, The Rayva Roundtablemarketing, product design, some theater designs,
couple TV shows, some commercials, and now this.

Cineluxe Trendsetters: Theo Kalomirakis

So much has been written about Theo Kalomirakis and his body of work—the subject of two bestselling coffeetable books and countless articles and videos—that there’s not much left to say. Except maybe that, for all of that attention, people still don’t have a good bead on exactly how innovative and influential his efforts have been, or that his theaters spring primarily not from an interest in gear or interior design but from a deep love for movies and the art of watching them.

Theo’s work is a sincere and natural extension of that love, which goes well beyond just being a fan to being someone who understands and appreciates the deep wellsprings that feed the art of the movies. And because of that almost naive sincerity, Theo in casual conversation is the same Theo you get in an interview on camera. He would make a lousy corporate spokesman because he always says exactly what he thinks and feels—which is why he has always been the best possible representative for the industry he gave birth to and continues to inspire, and for everything that’s great about watching movies at home.


We had a chance to do a a brief interview with Theo in his temporary apartment overlooking the Hudson River right before he departed for his new home in Greece—a move that included dismantling and shipping the entire private cinema in his New York City apartment to be reconstructed in his summer residence. We discussed the pandemic’s impact on moviewatching, how he was faring with an ad hoc system in his temporary digs, and whether 8K will represent the same significant stride forward as did the progression from VHS to DVD to Blu-ray to UHD.

Here’s hoping Theo will be back in the States sometime soon so we can record a more exhaustive, definitive exchange on his history, theaters, and legacy.


Laurel & Hardy: The Definitive Restorations

Laurel & Hardy: The Definitive Restorations

Stan & Ollie, the recent movie about Laurel and Hardy’s final years together, introduced or re-introduced many people to the incredibly influential comedy team that bridged the gap between formal theater and vaudeville and the silent and sound eras. That touching film helped spur new interest in the legendary comedy duo.


The fine new four-disc Blu-ray collection Laurel & Hardy: The Definitive Restorations uses restored versions of many of the team’s classic films and a bounty of extras to celebrate their work. These are perhaps as definitive versions as we will ever 

get to see. Painstakingly restored in 2K and 4K resolution, this is the best some of these films have looked since the time of their original release.


While I don’t claim to be the world’s leading authority on vintage film from the black & white era—though I do love a lot of early films!—the clarity found on Laurel & Hardy: The Definitive Restorations is unlike any versions of their movies I’ve seen to date. Sure, they display a certain amount of grain inherent to the early film equipment. But now you can clearly see the surprisingly wonderful sets and lighting supporting the never-ending gags, puns, and all manner of campy comebacks that have kept audiences laughing for decades. Click here, here, and here to see some side-by-


Some of the comedy duo’s signature features & shorts receive 2K and 4K restorations in this four-disc Blu-ray set brimming with extras



Purged of their jitter, blur, blotches, and scratches, this is probably the best these films have looked since they were originally released.

side before-and-after examples of the restorations—but they don’t quite convey the experience of just sitting down and letting yourself get immersed in the Laurel and Hardy universe.


This set includes some of their earliest films as a team, including a legendary reel that has not been seen in its complete form since its original presentation in 1927. Portions of their short “Battle of the Century” were lost over the years but after painstaking research most of it has been reassembled from original elements. This is apparently a world-premiere release, making its consumer-video debut after being effectively lost for 90 years!


The 2K and 4K transfers were done from restorations originally created for theatrical distribution by Jeff Joseph/SabuCat for the UCLA Film & Television Archive and the Library of Congress using the best surviving 35mm elements, including nitrate prints. So, unlike versions you may have seen on TV, YouTube, or earlier DVD collections, these are not blurry, jittery old movies. Most of the films sport a very distinct clear and steady look. I immediately noticed a stronger depth of field than I ever remembered seeing before. The Definitive Restorations allows you to better appreciate the detail captured, with lots of location shots around Hollywood and Los Angeles (and probably other locations) back in the day. The films used to just look flat (and scratchy!), but now you can fully experience the joyful cinematography underlying these gems. 


While there is no fancy packaging on this Blu-ray set, the bonus materials more than make up for the lack of any sort of booklet and box that would have driven up the price. There are audio commentaries for most of the films, which makes for a great education. While I’m still working my way through them, I found the one for “Battle of the Century” (1927) especially enlightening. It is very much like taking a film-history class, with commentaries by Laurel and Hardy experts Randy Skretvedt (Laurel and Hardy: The Magic Behind Movies) and Richard W. Bann. (Another Fine Mess: Laurel and Hardy’s Legacy).


The eight hours of extras include 2,500 rare photographs, studio documents, interviews with people who worked with Laurel and Hardy, trailers, and versions of some films with alternate soundtracks. You’ll even get to see a fully restored version of 

their one surviving color film, “The Tree in a Test Tube” (1942) (a very curious clip celebrating the glories of wood impacting everyday life, made for the U.S. Department of Agriculture and distributed by the U.S. Forest Service . . . for real!)


Some of my favorites in this set include the Academy Award-winning ridiculous-but-epic short about the two piano movers called “The Music Box” (1932). I loved “The Chimp” (1932), if only to be able to see Oliver Hardy show up on screen in a tutu! (Speaking of drag, that theme comes up numerous times in Laurel and 

Hardy films.) In “Twice Two” (1933), we get to see both Laurel and Hardy playing each other’s sisters, whom they each married in the story. Surprisingly convincing early special effects and clever editing make this mad romp all the more fascinating. The restoration allows the satin of Hardy’s dress to simply shimmer!


“Brats” (1930) is  a great short where Laurel and Hardy not only play themselves as adults, but also as their spoiled bratty children. The use of fantastic oversized stage props makes the film as fascinating to watch as it is funny. Be on the lookout for the animated mouse!


The full-length movie Way Out West (1937) looks especially crisp, and includes that classic scene of them dancing together in front of the saloon. There too you’ll see numerous clever early special effects. Be sure to watch for the recurring gag where Stan is able to light an imaginary cigarette lighter from his thumb. There is also a nifty moment where Hardy’s neck stretches like a rubber band as Laurel tries to pull him out of a hole in a piece of wooden floorboard.


My favorite film thus far is perhaps the rarest of the set, the aforementioned “Battle of the Century.” It is just completely over-the-top madcap fun! And even though it is technically still not complete (some scenes are missing, connected by surviving stills), it is worth putting those minor concerns aside to just take in the joy of the epic pie-fight sequence. (They reportedly used 3,000 real cream pies.) But don’t skip over the opening boxing match—the genesis of which has a fascinating history, as described in the bonus commentary. Be sure to look for the uncredited appearance of a pre-fame, 21-year-old Lou Costello, who is an extra in the crowd, a full 13 years before the first Abbott and Costello film debuted!


There are many other great bonus features, such as trailers for many of their films (including ones not in this package). And there is a fascinating audio-only section that allows you to hear 12 different music sequences that were backing for different movies/scenes. These were apparently taken off of one-of-a-kind transcription discs that were transferred over when discovered in 1980. 


There is much more I have yet to explore on this set, so I’m looking forward to continuing my journey. I also plan to order a film that isn’t included here but which I loved as a kid seeing it on TV reruns every holiday season: Babes in Toyland, based on Victor Herbert’s 1903 operetta. Exploring Laurel & Hardy: The Definitive Restorations has been an extremely satisfying experience and is a great place to start collecting their movies.

Mark Smotroff

Mark Smotroff breathes music 24/7. His collection includes some 10,000 LPs, thousands of
CDs & downloads, and many hundreds of Blu-ray and DVD Audio discs. Professionally, Mark has
provided Marketing Communications services to the likes of DTS, Sony, Sega, Sharp, and AT&T.
He is also a musician, songwriter & producer, and has written about music professionally for
publications including Mix, Sound+Vision, and AudiophileReview. When does he sleep?



I honestly can’t tell you how watching Hamilton from the comforts of my media room compares to seeing it live. I’d never seen the show before this weekend. On those rare occasions when the touring company made it within driving distance, my wife and I agreed we couldn’t afford to pay upwards of two grand for an evening’s entertainment.


We have, however, enjoyed quite a few streaming plays since the lockdown began earlier this year—most notably, the National Theatre at Home’s presentation of Frankenstein, starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller, as well as 

the live arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Tim Minchin. And I can tell you without hesitation that Hamilton is nothing like those productions.


During the first few minutes of the Disney+ stream, your brain can’t help but wonder: Am I watching theater or am I watching cinema? The answer is yes and no. It’s both. It’s neither. It’s like experiencing a play from the viewpoint of Mister Mxyzptlk, the impish multidimensional nemesis of Superman from the silliest comic books of that series. Sometimes you’re in the audience. Sometimes you’re onstage. Sometimes you’re hanging from the rafters. And somehow or another, it all just makes sense in the moment.


Honestly, though, by the end of the first number, you start to forget all of this artifice. You forget the nearly flawless 


The show that reinvented musical theater gets diverted from its planned Summer 2021 release in movie theaters and bows on Disney+ instead. 



A nearly flawless Dolby Vision video presentation.



The Dolby Atmos soundtrack is expansive and inventive, but a little too reverberant, making it difficult to understand some of the performers.

Dolby Vision video presentation and its gorgeous contrasts, its impossible mix of warm, earthen hues and dazzling primary-colored lighting. You even stop noticing that its only real visual flaw is the lack of absolute darkness in the shadows.


Your mind stops trying to make sense of the expansive and inventive Dolby Atmos soundtrack, which mixes not only audience reactions into the surround channels but also some of the catchy soundtrack instrumentation and sound effects. After giving myself over to Hamilton, the only conscious observation I had about the soundtrack is that there’s a little bit too much of the room in the mix at times, which makes it difficult to understand some performers, especially Daveed Diggs in his rapid-fire-rapping turn as the Marquis de Lafayette. (I also had to crank the volume up to 5dB above reference listening levels due to the relative quietness of the overall mix, but that was an easy fix.)


Once you stop focusing on the technical, what’s left is pure experience. As I said, it’s not quite theater and it’s not quite cinema, but this seamless patchwork of several different live performances recorded at the Richard Rodgers Theatre in 

Manhattan in June of 2016 works as its own thing.


And it may not quite compare with seeing the show live (again, I don’t know in this case), but what this time capsule does is allow you to appreciate not only the performances, but also the brilliance of the set design and choreography. There’s a reason Hamilton is the biggest cultural phenomenon of the past decade—the Elvis, Beatles, and Star Wars of its era—despite the fact that so few 

people have seen it until now. Just like all of those touchstones, Hamilton looks forward and back at the same time. It not only brings musical theater kicking and screaming out of the past, mixing traditional show tunes (good ones!) with hip-hop, R&B, and soul; it also brings the past kicking and screaming into the present, making the foundation of our country and the hard 

work of governing it relatable in the most inventive ways.


Make no mistake about it: Hamilton isn’t attempting to be a historically accurate biography of our nation’s first Secretary of the Treasury. Instead, it’s about what his story means to us now. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Alexander Hamilton is a myth. Then again, so is the American dream. The beauty of this stage production, though—and the recording of it captured for 

posterity—is that it makes us believe in both myths. Or at least want to believe in them.


A lot has been written about what it means that this version of Hamilton went straight to streaming more than a year before its intended commercial-cinema run. About how it makes up in some small way for the lack of live theater at the moment. I really don’t have anything to add to that conversation. What did occur to me as the closing credits rolled is that this release also democratizes the show, putting it in front of an audience that couldn’t afford to see Hamilton if it were playing next door tomorrow.


I can’t help but think, with a devious twinkle in my eye, that this is a delightfully dangerous thing. Hamilton is revolutionary in more ways than one. It inspires the sort of patriotism (not nationalism, not jingoism, but genuinely transformative, thoughtful patriotism) that the power brokers of American politics don’t want most of us feeling.


Will most people settling into their comfy couches and loading up Disney+ see it this way? Almost certainly not. Most will merely be dazzled by the entertainment, and that’s fine. Hamilton is a hell of a show, and this time-capsule recording turns it into a home cinema experience unlike anything you’ve ever seen on any screen.

Dennis Burger

Dennis Burger is an avid Star Wars scholar, Tolkien fanatic, and Corvette enthusiast
who somehow also manages to find time for technological passions including high-
end audio, home automation, and video gaming. He lives in the armpit of 
Alabama with
his wife Bethany and their four-legged child Bruno, a 75-pound 
American Staffordshire
Terrier who thinks he’s a Pomeranian.