61* Blu-ray delivers stunning video and great audio in this excellent Blu-ray release
In the summer of 1961, Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle took on Babe Ruth's record, the 1927 single-season 60 home run slam. It would be a summer that no one who knows baseball would forget. Mickey Mantle is a Yankee favorite, a hit with fans and sports writers alike and natural heir to his predecessors Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrig, and Babe Ruth. Also at bat is a yound midwesterner, Roger Maris, ahard-hitting right fielder. Maris is Mantle's opposite in almost every way. Quiet and soft-spoken, he doesn't add up to everything a sports legend should be, and finds himself losing the support of the fans. As the summer of 1961 unfolds, both find themselves approaching Babe Ruth's benchmark of 60 home runs. Facing mounting pressure from the media and the stands, they both know there's only room for one winner.
For more about 61* and the 61* Blu-ray release, see the 61* Blu-ray Review
61* Blu-ray Review
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Yankee Stadium."
Spring, 1961. The American League had expanded its ranks by two teams (the Los Angeles Angels and the second incarnation of the Washington Senators), the 154-game baseball season had been extended by eight games, and Babe Ruth's 1927 single-season home run record -- a long-since-shattered sixty -- seemed more out of reach than ever. It was, by all accounts, untouchable. So much so that a young twenty-seven-year old Yankees slugger by the name of Roger Maris left little room for delusions of grandeur. "Nobody will touch it," Maris mused before his fateful '61 season began. "Look up the records and you'll see that it's a rare year when anybody hits fifty homers, let alone sixty." But that was before he and teammate Mickey Mantle took to the plate in April and started swinging with all their might. Murmurings grew louder. Was Ruth's legacy under attack? New Yorkers, sports commentators, reporters and fans were suddenly enraged by the M&M Boys' race for Ruth's record, even if that race and Maris and Mantle's so-called rivalry were inventions of the press. Even when hearts softened as the season progressed, the public wrote off Maris, clinging to the belief that if anyone was going to best the Bambino's record, surely it was Mantle, the Yankees' resident power hitter and the highest paid player in baseball. Mantle, though, would fall short of Ruth's record by seven home runs after a hip infection yanked him out of the running. But Maris? Well, Maris would forge an entirely different story.
"Right now, whether you like it or not, you're bigger than the game."
But rather than string heart strings or weave melodrama into the fabric of Maris and Mantle's parallel stories, director Billy Crystal (Mr. Saturday Night) and screenwriter Hank Steinberg (Without a Trace) stick with the facts as best they can, a noble pursuit that lends a distinct air of period authenticity to the production. That said, 61* isn't an exhaustive account of the Yankees' 1961 season either, nor does its focus drift far from Mantle (Thomas Jane, The Mist) and Maris (Barry Pepper, Saving Private Ryan). Thankfully, Crystal and Steinberg make a number of smart choices and even smarter omissions, carefully reducing what could have been an ungainly dual-biography into an altogether captivating glimpse into the lives of two flawed but decidedly decent human beings caught between the public, the press and their own vices. Mantle, while far more enamored with the spotlight than his soft-spoken teammate, struggles not only with a lifestyle of excess, but with all of the trials and tribulations that come with it. Yet he's still in love with the game that made him a star, making his a particularly tragic tale. Meanwhile, Maris, a hard-working recluse ever in Mantle's shadow, is forced to deal with his own fears and insecurities, contend with combative Yankee fans and maintain a friendship with Mantle, despite whatever faux-rivalry reporters seem intent on creating.
Pepper and Jane are magnificent, putting their all into every swing and scene as if it were their last. They not only resemble Maris and Mantle, they inhabit the sluggers' personas, both public and private. Jane, with a cocksure grin and confident stride, is thoroughly convincing as a celebrity in decline. When Mantle masks his doubt with certainty, Jane leaves just enough of a crack in the facade to confirm the Bambino is all-too-aware of his precarious position. When Mantle's health begins to wane, Jane eases his performance into the heartbreak Mickey feels; he never pushes, never pulls, never forces a single line of dialogue. For all intents and purposes, the actor disappears, leaving only a disheveled baseball legend coming to terms with his own imperfections and mortality. Pepper, with a steely gaze and clenched jaw, retreats from the cameras and allows Maris' home runs to say everything the 1960 and 1961 MVP has to say. Behind closed doors, his frustration is palpable and it's here that Pepper masterfully walks a very, very fine line. Other actors might have allowed ego to flood Maris' words, but not Pepper. With complete control of his every expression and sidelong glance, he captures the spirit of a man who wants respect but can't seem to earn it, no matter how tirelessly he works or how deserving he might be. Together, Pepper and Jane are a perfectly cast duo; bending and breaking in unison, instinctively playing off of their every difference and crashing into each obstacle set before them with nuance and intensity, all the while refusing to steal the spotlight from one another.
Crystal and Steinberg fall prey to the fairy tale of the Yankees' 1961 season on occasion -- the combination of the film's music, cinematography and tone sometimes make the filmmakers' nostalgia a bit too apparent -- and do some tinkering of their own, harmless as it may be. Moreover, the film's book ends are a tad contrived, some of the supporting actors aren't nearly as reliable as Pepper or Jane, and a few arguably important details are left by the wayside. But for every disappointing strikeout, there are at least a dozen grand slams. Crystal's affection for the Yankees, the game that breathed life into the team, and baseball's greatest icons is earnest and sincere, and Crystal the Comedian never diminishes the drama of 61*. Crystal also doesn't allow the weight of the film to dampen its power or rob his characters of joy and humor. Instead, he nimbly injects a spry sense of rhythm into the proceedings that drives everything else along. You can almost feel Crystal dancing from scene to scene, guiding 61* by the hand. His costumes, sets, locations and production design are impeccable, his knowledge of the period and the game unmatched, and his confidence behind the camera unquestionable. It isn't the greatest baseball film, at least not by my humble estimation, but it certainly ranks among the best.
HBO's striking 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer swings big and connects, making the most of its Blu-ray debut and shattering meager expectations with every passing scene. Haskell Wexler's Summer of '61 period palette is bolstered by rich amber tones, brilliant blue skies, rich baseball-diamond greens, and absorbing blacks. Moreover, fleshtones are natural, full of life and beautifully saturated, and contrast is sunny, strong and perfectly balanced. Detail never falters either, celebrating the film's cinematography as much as it celebrates the game. Fine textures are exceedingly well refined, grain is intact and unobtrusive, and edge definition is crisp and clean, with nary a halo to be found. No matter the shot or scene, it's all utterly faithful to Crystal's intentions and rarely, if ever, strays off course. The encode itself is just as precise and proficient. Significant artifacting, banding, aliasing, smearing, crush, aberrant noise... rest assured it all strikes out. As it stands, I was completely taken aback by the film's high definition presentation. It doesn't show a single day of its ten years.
61* also serves up an able-bodied DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track. From the sharp crack of Mantle's power swing to the earthy growl of Maris' cleats burrowing into the dirt, from the roar of an anxious Yankees Stadium crowd to the hushed silence that hangs heavy during a fly ball, Warner's lossless mix impresses. The LFE channel may not hit as hard as others, but it certainly gets the job done, lending weight wherever it's needed, heft when called upon and support throughout. Rear speaker activity isn't indistinguishable from reality, but it is rather convincing, opening the soundfield and dropping listeners into a suitably immersive approximation of every venue. Better still, dialogue is perfectly intelligible and neatly prioritized, dynamics are solid, directional effects are fairly convincing and pans are slick and smooth. In the end, the whole of the experience is greater than the sum of its individual attributes, and pairs nicely with Warner's top-notch video transfer.
The Blu-ray edition of 61* isn't bristling with special features, nor does it offer anything fans of the film haven't seen before. But that doesn't mean anyone should assume the disc's two extras are anything less than extensive, fully realized and absorbing. Crystal steps up to the plate for an audio commentary and documentary, and knocks both of them out of the park. Kick back and enjoy.
Audio Commentary: Executive producer/director Billy Crystal delivers a thoughtful, soft spoken commentary in which he discusses everything from the project's development to its script, casting, performances, costuming, storylines and authentic glimpses into baseball and American history. Along the way, Crystal digs into the driving forces behind Mantle and Maris' 1961 season, their personalities and hangups, the challenges he faced while shooting the film, dealing with a short production schedule, and the similarities between comedy and filmmaking (as Crystal coos it, "it's all in the rhythm"). He loosens up as he goes, of course, sharing on-set anecdotes and personal memories that only serve to enhance what is already a terrific commentary.
The Greatest Summer of My Life: Billy Crystal and the Making of 61* (SD, 52 minutes): Crystal walks fans, film and sports alike, through the story of Mantle, Maris and the unforgettable summer of 1961, as well as the production of the film itself. While his documentary tends to strike a slightly more personal tone than his commentary, there's quite a bit of unavoidable overlap in the director's talking points. Not that it matters. Crystal's passion is infectious, the behind-the-scenes footage is amusing and revealing, and the comedian leaves little doubt as to how seriously he takes baseball, the Yankees, the history of the era and filmmaking.
Bios and Hitting/Fielding Stats: A list of Roger Maris' 1961 home runs, two much-too-short Mantle and Maris biographies, and season-to-season stats for both Mantle and Maris round out the package.
61* brings one of the Yankees' most memorable seasons and two of the team's most indispensable players to life, all with the affection and fervor of one of Mantle and Maris' greatest fans. Crystal indulges in the fairy tale of the Yankees' 1961 season a bit, sure. But not at the expense of the film or the truth, nor to the detriment of the story. HBO's AV presentation is even better and boasts an outstanding video transfer and a fully capable DTS-HD MA mix. Add to that an engaging director's commentary, a notable hour-long documentary and a low, low pricepoint and the Blu-ray release of 61* is nothing less than a steal.
HBO Home Entertainment, in conjunction with Warner Home Video, has announced two baseball-related titles for Blu-ray release on June 7: the feature 61*, centered on the quest of the New York Yankees' Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle to break Babe Ruth's home run record; ...
