How Long They Wait To Look Right

It Might Be Captain Newman Or a Thousand Others

Let’s say you order breakfast, and here is what they bring: eggs a little runny, edible, if barely, bacon soft, or too crisp, but will do, toast not toasted, still bread, but better withal than nothing. This was the lot for movie viewing from the moment they came off developing racks. Film was fragile and fair game besides. Artists had no control over presentation once their effort went aboard trucks. Everything from point of departure spelled compromise. New-released Captain Newman, M.D. on Blu-Ray is itself less cause to fly banners, a fish-nor-fowl if classy view at WWII handling of PTSD cases, with Gregory Peck a psych counselor to patients and near-as-wacky clinic staff. We could go to Captain Newman and get a ticket’s worth of laughing and tears, or tears with laughter, whatever one's taste of the moment. A Captain Newman served useful purpose, what with stars (Tony Curtis, Angie Dickinson, other familiars, with Peck), much polish, writing to at moments flatter a listener. You might exit venues and hear someone say, “parts of it made me think.” But merit of the movie won’t concern me today. More striking is Captain Newman on Blu-Ray as first opportunity since 1963 to see it much as what makers intended. What we had, still do, from our movies was/is viewing experience diminished one way or other from what should be. If any art suffers PTSD across boards, it is what we call a liveliest of them, but hardest of all to preserve and present.

Look at books, painting, sculpture. They last. Busts that survive from ancient Rome grace museums today (though they once had color, even if now chalk-white). Painted canvas need not fade so long as kept in proper environments (I know there are lost masterpieces, but so many as there are lost films?). You can reprint a two-hundred-year-old novel and get intact what the author set down. Classical music sounds better than many a first-time performance, thanks to instruments more developed that reflect better the composer’s vision. Remember The Eagle from some months back? I sat the whole time wishing it looked something like, remotely like, what audiences saw in 1925. Fine art from then, valued as we fans value The Eagle, is not only around, but for most part impressive as what first recipients got. Yes, there are unfortunate exceptions, but so many as with movies? For us, losses aren’t exceptions. The exceptions are watchable prints, especially from the silent era. Film was always a popular art, too popular for being underestimated and disposable, not only by a public, but owners who should have, but too seldom did, protect their output. How could they, with pace of exhibition so fleet, hunger of ancillary markets so voracious. Here was art driven always by money, money, money, that a consequence of much spent in the doing, necessity to get it back and then some, plus what made and kept movies as that liveliest art … everyone wanting, wanting, wanting, liveliest translated to most in demand.

I use Captain Newman as random basis to preach. Sample could as readily be another Universal, or anyone’s, release from 1963, or anytime. Why not, say, A Gathering of Eagles, being efficient account of modern aviation and military readiness, in scope with Rock Hudson, also a Universal release, but nowhere except for lousy transferring for On-Demand DVD. To my reckoning, A Gathering of Eagles is essentially lost. Not a big deal? Alright, but I think how much Eagles could entertain in a good presentation, and it rankles. Back to Captain Newman on long trek toward cheerier outcome, its road rocky from leaving labs. Premieres, or an important trade show, would call for a “best” print to unspool, tip-off that not all of them turned out so good as preferred, print-runs no better than technicians in charge. Passover to distribution, then exhibition, put more mud in the creek. Unless a print was brand new and unused, you had to worry how booths before had left it. Bad splices, ones made with straight pins for pity sake, left blood on rewind tables. Surest way to ideally see Captain Newman? I propose the “Doors Open” show at 9:30 am on February 20, 1964 at Radio City Music Hall, or one of Los Angeles, Westwood, or Hollywood first-runs (ad above), so long as you got to indoor sites early, as in a first day, or at least a first week. Responsible venues took print wear into account. They’d go through multiples for a long run, especially a showcase like Radio City where the best was a minimum expectation. But look at L.A. for Captain Newman in its “2^nd Smash Week.” Hardtops were aboard, but also drive-ins, and from a start. Meaningful first-run percentage saw Captain Newman outdoors, heaven spare them. Watching anything at a drive-in was but bare step up from nothing at all. Bad or dim light, maybe the sun still out, more distraction than if you were at a dog track, and worse of all, punk sound. Your sister’s transistor radio did better. I wonder if William Russell or Waldon O. Watson, Universal sound engineers in charge of Captain Newman, drove out to the Sun-Val or elsewhere for a listen. Would surely have dispirited them, or maybe (more likely) both were long inured to efforts gone splat soon as same left their capable hands. Who could fault cynicism taking hold?

Ponder the sub-runs, or better, don’t. Here is where movies went to die. Exchanges would retire a print only if, when, it was too tattered to go through a projector. Trouble was, the worse shape it was in, the more damage projectors did, especially where operators were inexperienced. It took years to become a truly skilled projectionist. Our Liberty had an artisan in the booth, but no one saw him, comings-going in or out an alley door, seldom to interact with patrons, or see the sun, but rarely would shows fail on his account. Who of us sent up gesture of thanks for that? Never occurred to me, should have, as I maintained at least an 8mm set-up at home, so was aware of trials an operator faced. Once out of first-runs, a Captain Newman was useful to support a newer attraction. It performed well, ranking #21 among Variety’s “Big Rental Pictures of 1964,” showing $3.325 million in domestic rentals as of 1/6/65, the trade’s “Revenue Anticipation” totaling $4.250 million. Breaking numbers down in terms of then-ticket prices suggests less than eight million people saw Captain Newman at a theatre or drive-in during 1964-65. Samuel Arkoff used the statistic (in a 1974 interview) to argue a decline of “B” movies, saying you simply did not need them anymore, since “very, very few people ever see a picture theatrically.” Edward Small had made a same argument to Variety nine years earlier in 11/65, saying that most “A” pictures, “with few exceptions,” played to no more than five million people in theatres. Arkoff asked why not use a cheap-rented “A” as your second feature? To those eight million, or Small’s five, who went to see Captain Newman on a big screen, Arkoff would exclaim “That’s less than four percent of the population!,” or if we relied on Ed Small’s calculation, less than that.

Did Captain Newman have reissue worth? Not likely. North By Northwest lost money for MGM when they tried reviving it in 1966, fresh prints and ads costing more than could be recovered. An only recourse was television if Universal wanted more revenue out of Captain Newman, thus placement in a feature package Universal offered to NBC. The deal was historic, “about sixty” theatrical and made-for-TV movies to begin broadcasting with the 1966-67 season and thereafter, each title valued at or near $500K. Captain Newman was one of the good ones, along with Charade, That Touch Of Mink, and The Birds. Network premiere was 1/20/68 on Saturday Night At The Movies, starting at 8:30 to accommodate 126 minutes of running time. Ratings were boff, among a year's best for NBC movies, twenty-five million or so watching. Factor that with comparatively paltry number that saw Captain Newman on paying basis. Movies were no longer your best entertainment … TV was. A softbound book (TV 68) trumpeted the viewing season and featured brief reviews of scheduled features by Howard Thompson, who for years had done a same service for New York Times listing of local televised films. Thompson’s Newman capsule was generally kind, “but the picture too often hops from solemn to rib-tickling.” TV GUIDE meanwhile had Judith Crist doing a weekly page of picks and pans. Of Captain Newman, she said “corn and cliches are rampant,” but like Thompson, she generally liked the show. TV GUIDE subscribers took to Crist, as evident by her long stay there. Millions more read this critic than were ever exposed to Pauline Kael of a same period, as what was The New Yorker beside TV GUIDE?

Surprise evidence of Crist in continuing demand: A paperback anthology, Judith Crist’s TV GUIDE To The Movies, was published in 1974, at present a seeming nowhere to be found. Amazon does not list used copies, unusual for a late dated publication, none are currently at Ebay, and ABE books has but a single copy listed, for $62.00 (’74 cover price: $1.50). Is Crist a hottest collectible around? Captain Newman had a 1.85 frame, so looked OK on television, at least better than anamorphic titles “adapted” to the tube. Where it suffered was syndication that followed NBC play (their repeat 7/2/68), Captain Newman diced heavy for placement in local two-hour slots. Up to thirty minutes generally came out. This was how features fared during long siege between theatrical and the arrival of home video. At last via latter you could own a movie and watch it uninterrupted. Universal, as “MCA Video,” released Captain Newman on VHS cassette in 1987. Seems that too is scarce now, one listed recent at Ebay (“This is truly a find because it has never been opened,” says the would-be seller). You can “Buy-It-Now” for $150. I have to assume people who accumulate VHS are doing it for the box art, image quality surely no criterion. Point is, Captain Newman, and increasing others, look on Blu-Ray the way we wish they had looked since new. Being able to project shows like this, seeing them good or better than ever before, makes for repeated occasion to count one’s blessings.