TRACKING.

a pick six

by Hunter Jon

I used to love commentary tracks. When DVDs were at the height of their popularity I couldn’t get enough of them. More so than learning about the inner workings of any given movie, I found a sense of solace in them. Because when you love or even just like a movie a lot, it’s hard to find people who share that level of enthusiasm. At least it was for me. But who knows and/or is willing to talk about a movie more than the person(s) who made it? And there is something about commentaries that can satisfy even the slightest social itch. There’s no way you’re going to that dinner or party or whatever it is. You don’t want to go anywhere... but you don’t want to just sit home in silence, either. And music isn’t quite right. You kind of crave something that resembles a conversation, preferably an informative one. So when it comes to not wanting to be alone but not wanting to see or talk to anyone, tracks are a great way to have your cake and eat it, too. At least, they were. I can’t imagine they are being listened to nearly as much as a decade ago. Every once in a while I’ll notice one is featured in the iTunes extras of a new movie, but I have to assume they are recorded rather rarely these days. I guess most people now get from podcasts what I used to get out of commentary tracks. Someone should start a podcast that is just directors (or anyone involved with the project) doing brand new commentaries for movies old and new. Maybe there already is such a thing. I should probably look that up.

Meanwhile, here are my six favourite commentary tracks.

(I’ve included the appropriate amount of honourable mentions)

What you want here is the the 35th anniversary Blu-ray. It’s got the latest commentary with John and Jamie Lee. I believe they recorded a previous track years ago for a DVD, but their thoughts on and memories of this movie only get better with age. It’s a treat to hear them (mostly her) reminisce about what I think was a genuinely fun shoot because it was kind of the last moment in both of their careers when no one was expecting anything from them. Pressure is one thing. You’re always under a tremendous amount of pressure making a movie. But expectation - that’s the real killer. I love that it still bothers Carpenter that there aren’t enough fallen leaves in the background of one shot. There’s a very simple drinking game you can play here - take a drink any time he doesn’t remember something or she points out how scary something is… finish your drink if she says it’s “friggin” scary.

It’s like you’re attending a high school party with three guys who probably never attended a high school party. They drink beer throughout, order pizza and then invite the delivery guy to stay and watch the movie (he doesn’t). If this is any indication of how they cooked up said movie than no wonder it’s so dumb and fun. It’s actually really nice to hear them listing off all the things they wanted or tried to do but couldn’t afford. They even go so far as to point out how cheap or fake things look or jokes that don’t quite work. It’s a welcome relief to hear directors be so self deprecating and express such dissatisfaction. Maybe it’s ‘cause they’re drunk. But the point is they don’t actually take this movie seriously and neither should you.

Jackson always seems a little tired, doesn’t he? Yet he never seems annoyed or at all inconvenienced when asked to talk about something he’s passionate about, like a movie he loves or one he’s working on. He brings his cozy sleepiness to this wonderful commentary, thankfully with Boyens by his side to keep things lively and on track. He may have barely survived his own journey there and back, but deep down I think Jackson’s just a boy who loves Skull Island and the endless array of monsters and creatures lurking around every corner. It perks him up. By the end of the movie he’s got about a dozen new ideas which, as he puts it, he’ll have to put away in the cupboard at the back of his brain for another day. And we’re talking the extended edition, remember, which means you get an intermission between disc one and two. When you press play on the second Pete welcomes you back and hopes you’ve gotten a cup of tea and maybe a piece of toast with jam. I always make sure to have both at the ready, because once he proposes the idea you crave them immediately.

You’re looking for the 40th anniversary DVD. It’s a double disc set but the second disc is a CD of the soundtrack (a brilliant idea, I might add, that I believe “Matchstick Men” was the first to do). On disc one, though, you’ll find a commentary track by Mike Nichols and Steven Soderbergh. Two directors who, if you ask me, have got the ratio right throughout their eclectic careers - 40% time and attention paid to photography and general aesthetic, 60% spent on performance, character and narrative. And they never need to let the audience know it’s them pulling the strings by applying signature stamps all over the place. Ideally, quality is their only trademark. That’s rare. They seemingly shared a lot of the same ideas. They’re also just both very entertaining guys. Although what’s truly surprising here is how casual and comfortable Soderbergh seems and sounds. He’s not nervous nor showering Nichols with kiss-ass compliments. He’s simply there to talk shop. And it’s amazing to hear a master of one generation do so with a master of the next. Skip a day of film school, stay home and enjoy this.

It was such a great idea and it delivers. Fifteen years after the fact, reunite a child star with his director and have them look back at the movie they made. Make that child star one who grew up to be a little bit of an enigma, make that director one who’s a little bit washed up and you have one of the most compelling commentaries ever. Not that any of that is spoken of - they focus on all the fun memories and generate a lot of family friendly gibbelishing. But the underlying subtext is there and it’s fascinating. What they do cover though is all delightful. They do a great job of reminding us that this was the little-movie-that-could. We’re so used to seeing it as a blockbuster hit that it’s cool to hear them discuss all the limitations they faced while shooting and even point out a few cast members who were less than enthused to be making a smaller ‘kids’ movie. And they get everything else right; honouring Candy and praising Hughes (who was alive at the time). It’s a great way to reinvent your annual holiday viewing if you’re starting to feel as though maybe you’ve seen it one too many times.

Tarantino doesn’t record commentaries for movies that he directs. He, like Spielberg, feels the movie should just speak for itself. Fair enough. He does, however, record them for other movies. Usually ones he wrote and/or acted in. Sometimes ones he’s just a fan of. His track with Rodriguez for “From Dusk Till Dawn” is a lot of fun, as is his and Edgar Wright’s “Hot Fuzz” one. But he goes it alone here and the result is kind of incredible. It’s not so much a scene by scene breakdown as it is him telling you the story of how he came to sell the script. Which is basically his secret origin - how a movie fanatic became a moviemaker. It’s a wonderful tale that’s wonderfully told. Very inspiring for anyone who dreams of making it in La La Land. And he spares no essential details, which is so refreshing. Too often you’ll hear - “Yeah, so I packed up and moved to Los Angeles, then my agent called and said they were looking for - ” - wait! How did you go from just arriving in LA to having an agent? You left out the most important and possibly helpful bit. But here Quentin thoroughly explains every little thing that led to that other little thing that led to another little thing and so on and so on until his foot is finally in the door. It’s full of fascinating revelations and fun facts that will only make you appreciate him, Tony and the movie itself more and more. Also worth noting is that he isn’t really ‘on’ here. His very distinct voice is uncharacteristically calm and he really takes his time spinning the yarn. You feel like you have a more complete picture of who he is when it's all over. Perhaps this was intentional, because even he admits that this is his most personal script. It’s very clearly a young video store clerk’s down-the-rabbit-hole fantasy. Actually, maybe the fantasy wasn’t living the adventure, but to simply write the adventure for a living.

I like to read things by Nora Ephron when the power goes out. A script, an essay, her one play, her recipe for mashed potatoes featured in ‘Heartburn’ - anything. Because of this habit, I get a little excited when I lose power. I don’t like to read her stuff when I have power, though. That would just be ridiculous. So I often listen to this to tide me over until the next outage. She recorded it with the great Lauren Shuler Donner, who also produced “Mr. Mom” and “Deadpool”, as you do. It’s quite an awesome education to hear them breakdown how to make a proper ‘Hollywood movie’ movie. Ephron particularly explains how, when writing a big budget picture like this that’s aimed at the masses, you’d be wise to not only subscribe to the three act structure but make sure each of those acts has three acts within them. She’ll update you throughout the commentary, saying things like, “Oh, so that there was the end of the second act’s third act, which means now we’re into the first act of the third act.” And she is, of course, her usual brilliant self in other wonderful ways. I love it when, during the moment Ryan is telling Hanks that he’s taking too much caviar as it’s merely meant as a garnish, Nora calmly inserts something to the effect of - “She’s right, by the way. You can’t hog a garnish like that.”

Kevin Smith makes sure that he gets two bites at the apple. He once told the following story - he was coming off stage after doing a Q&A following a screening of “Clerks.” back in the day, and as the audience filed out he overheard someone say something like - “I didn’t like the movie but the Q&A was pretty funny.” So, much like a post-show Q&A, Smith sees commentary tracks as a chance to win us over a second time. And he always does. Each of the View Askew entries has a commentary just as fun as the movie itself. In fact, you can now listen to these and hear Smith’s podcasting training wheels squeaking as they go ‘round and ‘round. For those who can’t get enough of his podcasts, try to remember there was a time when these and the "Even with..." series were all we had. And you didn’t get three a week, you got one every three years. Although he did provide a few tracks for movies he wasn’t involved in. He sits in with Richard Kelly on the one for “Donnie Darko” and he and über producer Scott Moiser recorded a very funny one for “Roadhouse”. I could have included any of his hilarious commentaries on this list, particularly the “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back” one or the “Clerks.” one recorded specifically for the tenth anniversary, which you can find on the ‘Clerks X’ DVD. But for whatever reason I believe I’ve listened to this one the most. You’ve got the usual ‘Clerks’ crew, only this time Trevor Fehrman and Jennifer Schwalbach are in the mix and Mewes is awake. They’re having too much fun and so are you. Listening to this level of camaraderie is comforting and can surely cure the late night lonelies. Although as Moiser so wisely observes at one point - “Not every moment rules.”

Thank God this happened. I don’t know how, but it happened. John Hughes recorded a commentary track for “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. It’s my personal favourite movie of his, and one of my favourites of all time by anyone, so this is truly a treasure. To say Hughes didn’t do a whole lot of interviews over the years and lived a private life is an understatement. And once he unofficially retired I don’t think he made a official public appearance ever again. He really was our Salinger in that sense. Yet here he is, watching his masterpiece of juvenile joy and having a lot more to say about it than you ever would have suspected. For some reason when people shy away from the press there is an assumption that it’s because they’re a grumpy, grumbling asshole who swats away fans and press alike with a cane as Scrooge would street urchins and tax collectors. But here’s Hughes being everything you want him to be - as warm and welcoming as his movies. He takes you through everything from casting to song selection to script changes to everything else you’ve always wanted to ask the man about this one. If you’re a fan and somehow missed this, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s on the first DVD they ever released (perhaps the laserdisc, as well). I don’t believe you’ll find it on any ‘Bueller… Bueller… Edition’. My favourite moment is when he points out how long a set-up to one joke is (I won’t spoil which) and then is silent as the punchline occurs. After a beat he mutters, “Still not sure it was worth it.” It was, John. It all was.

If Kevin Smith’s commentaries are a party than David Fincher’s are a lulling bedtime story. I’ve never given meditation a proper try, but if I did I think I would do so to the sound of this man’s voice. His tracks are great to fall asleep to, and I don’t mean because they’re so boring that they’ll put you to sleep. I mean because they’re so soothing. For such relentless, wild, violent, merciless movies the man behind them could not be more mannered, calm, collected and precise. It’s a surprise that he doesn’t have a single writing credit on his resume because he’s so well spoken. Great with a turn of phrase, full of droll one-liners, and has a unique way of articulating things. Like saying Rooney Mara is easy to light because her face has “such great bones” and therefore sometimes looks like Audrey Hepburn and other times a boy. I’m a fan of his work but I might be a even bigger fan of his process. I could listen to him talk about crafting a movie, his or another’s, all day and I have. A lot of times I’ll listen to a director dissect whatever they're promoting and think, “This sounds incredible - gotta see this!” So I do and then think, “What the hell is this? Where are all those great ideas and themes and techniques they were talking about?” Not with Fincher. I actually enjoy hearing or reading interviews with him leading up to his latest release, because when I eventually see it I usually walk out and think, “Jesus, he wasn’t kidding.” I highly recommend any of his tracks. His ones for “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”, “Zodiac” or “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” could have easily been on this list somewhere. But I’ve chosen to just save a single spot, the top one, for him and his commentary for this. I don’t really know why, but I’ve listened to it more than any other commentary track. I even have it burned on to multiple CDs so that I can listen to it on long drives like a book-on-tape. Maybe it’s extra interesting because it’s such a seemingly simple movie yet he goes into great detail about how it was the most complex shoot of his career (he did basically have to shoot the movie twice - long story). That alone is almost more astonishing and worth analyzing than what’s happening on screen, and he does just that with an astute eloquence that I personally can’t find in any other living director.