Dial D for Digitization

My digitization observations this week revolve around cinema and DVD transfers.

I was watching Alfred Hitchcock's Dial M for Murder a couple of weeks ago and I was struck by a couple of things: Firstly, I watched a 2D version of what was originally a 3D film. I started to wonder which of the reels was used for the 2D version on the DVD - the left or right? What were the considerations for selecting that view? Was one of the original master reels of higher quality?  Would anyone know or notice the difference?  I realized that 50% of the visual content of the original had been removed and the end product did not appear to suffer. That is a significant amount of compression, even before the digitization had begun.

I didn’t miss the 3D experience of the film, as there was an sense of three dimensions within the blocking and framing of the shots. Save for one iconic moment when the heroine reaches out for help (essentially to the audience), the movie doesn’t rely on too many of the gimmicky 3D moments that draw attention to the tropes of 3D (I’m thinking of some of the cheesier scenes in Jaws 3-D or Fridaythe 13th Part 3).

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dial_M_For_Murder.jpg

In this I was reminded of debates over mono and stereo versions of Beatles albums. One could assume that the stereo versions are superior, as they offer the listener an enhanced experience – a wider soundscape to immerse oneself in. However, the bulk of mixing time was spent on the mono mixes. Stereo mixes were an afterthought, a way to cash in on a relatively new technological advancement. Recent mono re-releases of Beatles albums were then seen to be truer to the original vision of the band, as opposed to the seemingly updated mode of stereo representation.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/vancouver-archives/8229393567

  

  The other thing that jumped out at me while watching Dial M for Murder was that the DVD transfer included intermission music and an accompanying splash screen from the original theatrical release. While it took me out of the drama of the movie momentarily, it did introduce a strange sensation of time travel - I was suddenly transported to a movie theatre in 1954. I ceased to engage with the content and the intermission became an opportunity to reflect on how movie viewing has changed in the last 60 years. It was like a little micro-featurette in the middle of the movie, one that was self explanatory and which gave space to imagine a different time to my own.D

A recent viewing of a remastered version of Lawrence of Arabia included even more added material: in addition to a musical intermission, the DVD included an overture of music before the first reel of filmed content began. It was a very strange feeling watching an empty screen (there may have been an accompanying image of curtains) and listening to the orchestra play. As with Dial M for Murder, neither the music or the visuals were particularly engaging by themselves, but they allowed that same moment of reflection.

I remember watching VHS transfers of vintage movies and experiencing the same thing: an intermission screen and accompanying music. I put that down at the time to the tape being a cheap transfer, where there was neither the budget or inclination to polish up the movie for a home-viewing audience. With the Dial M for Murder and Lawrence of Arabia DVD transfers, the inclusion felt intentional, like something in addition to the movie itself was being preserved. As a teenager I watched a VHS copy of Monty Python's The Meaning of Life , where Eric Idle encourages viewers to leave the theatre during the closing credits. This was jarring to me, watching at a friend's house on a VCR: I felt like I was having a diminished version of the experience than that of the original audience. While I could see the humour in it, the joke just didn't land in the same way.

I started to wonder if ever there have ever been different versions of comedies which exploit both cinema and home viewing scenarios, offering different cuts. I also began to question what the current movie going customs and conventions which will need to be captured and embedded to be revealed to future audiences? An simulation of the Cineplex Fast Play app? Biochemical simulations of rising blood sugar levels, due to the ingestion of high-fructose corn syrup-based drinks? VR boots simulating a sticky floor underneath the viewer’s feet?

All of this points to a big question in digitization – what needs to be preserved: the artists’ original vision? The original audience’s experience? The studio/publisher's input? All of it? How do we measure what can be compressed or removed? How do we include or uncover additional elements without detracting from a future audience’s engagement with a text?

Perhaps the key is in providing and layering choices for the reader/audience. The Lawrence of Arabia DVD had a menu which gave the option to include or omit the prelude and intermission (as a home viewer, I also had the option to skip ahead). But then another question – would a version of Lawrence of Arabia which did not allow me to skip the prelude and only allowed me to get a snack or a washroom break during the intermission provide me as a viewer with a more thorough engagement with the text? Where are the divisions or demarcations between experience and text?