The Box Blu-ray delivers great video and decent audio, but overall it's a mediocre Blu-ray release
An unhappily married couple receive a small wooden box on their doorstep. At the push of a
button, the box brings its bearer instant wealth but also instantly kills someone the bearer
doesn't know.
I'm afraid Richard Kelly, the once-promising wunderkind who gave us the wonderfully enigmatic dystopian fable Donnie Darko, has taken a sharp turn for the worse. I hesitate to toss him into the same camp as frustrating filmmaker M. Night Shyamalan (whose prestige and talent have rapidly declined since The Sixth Sense had its way with audiences), but Kelly's rightfully reviled Southland Tales handily vaulted to the top of my Worst-Films-of-All-Time list, while The Box, his awkward adaptation and misguided expansion of Richard Matheson's fantastic short story "Button, Button," has made an impassioned grab for the same title. I know Donnie Darko Devotion will continue to color many a faithful fan's impressions of the director's subsequent work, and I know there are those who will walk away from his latest twisted tale spouting words like "brilliant," whispering slack-jawed praise, and labeling Kelly a "misunderstood genius." However, at its core, The Box is a shaky house of cards; an onerous, overwrought, overreaching cloud of soupy smoke. It's strengthened by several intriguing personal touches and wraps up neatly, sure, but a moving setup and a bold endgame can't hope to redeem the film's ever-shifting tone, off-kilter subplots, laughable supporting performances, and mounting air of pretension.
What would you choose? Matheson's original question is the only interesting question in 'The Box.'
Kelly's loose adaptation of Matheson's "Button, Button" (first published in "Playboy" in 1970) was bound for trouble from the outset. Frankly, there are only a handful of filmmakers that could take such a simplistic short story, build a suitable framework around its themes and characters, and produce anything of merit. In the original tale, a woman is approached by a stranger who leaves her with an even stranger gift: a small box topped with a red button. He tells the woman she has a choice. If she presses the button, she'll receive $50,000, but someone she doesn't know will die. If she doesn't press the button, nothing will happen. The ending is inevitable, of course, but the manner in which it plays out is not. Kelly, cursed with the thankless task of expanding that singular premise into a feature length film, was immediately faced with two challenges: transform the husband, wife, and stranger at the center of the story into fully realized characters, and then drop them in the midst of several mysteries that would keep an audience's interest for two hours. To address the first challenge, the director dug into his past, basing the lives, personalities, and mannerisms of his unassuming married couple, Norma and Arthur Lewis (Cameron Diaz and James Marsden), on his own parents. He made Arthur a NASA engineer like his father, Norma a disfigured school teacher like his mother, and the stranger (played by the film's greatest asset, Frank Langella) a horribly scarred adversary who would naturally elicit sympathy from Norma. Sadly, tackling the second challenge would prove to be the film and Kelly's undoing.
The results are trite and divisive to say the least. Upping the ante with a million dollar offer, Kelly's stranger is the one element of the film that works. From Langella's sinewy facial scars to his pleasant demeanor, the stranger -- coolly calling himself Arlington Steward -- is a force of dread and manipulation. His frequent allusions to his "employers" is even more unsettling. But each time Langella disappears, Kelly has little to offer aside from lingering closeups, nosebleeds, gaping mouths, Marsden's sweet but chummy schtick, Diaz's strange southern drawl, leering "employees," shuffling townsfolk (clearly under the influence of some otherworldly mind control), hilarious gawking and grinning, water coffins (don't ask), and a sketchy NASA tease that dominates each act but never really goes anywhere. Honestly, every time one of the Lewis' friends and neighbors would mutter vague warnings, hold up two fingers, or stare intently at the camera, I found myself laughing. Kelly's efforts to cast creepy character actors proves to be in vain as their befuddled expressions and dopey smirks are little more than amusing distractions. The story takes an even more devastating hit. The Lewis' lengthy trip to a library becomes an aimless, unexpectedly derivative exercise in self-plagiarism involving some decidedly Donnie Darko-esque inanity; ambiguity is used as an excuse to justify plot holes rather than as a tool to make the film's mysteries more engrossing; and the entire second act is a meandering waste of space that stretches the tale but doesn't enhance the premise or enrich its dark denouement. The choice the stranger presents is neutered as well, particularly when questions about the Lewis' free will and the death of a seemingly innocent woman cast serious doubt on the supposed nature of the box (as eventually defined by the writer and director himself).
What would Matheson think of it all? Nothing fit for print, that's for sure. The author's distaste for "The Twilight Zone" episode inspired by "Button, Button" is well documented, and Kelly adheres to it far more than Matheson's short story (at least for a half-hour or so, before he goes off the deep end and has Marsden poking shimmering liquid towers). But Stephen King hated Kubrick's take on The Shining; it doesn't make it a lesser film. The Box, on the other hand, is cinematic quicksand. It sets a trap horror junkies and sci-fi aficionados will be all too willing to step into, but never gives them the chance to escape, or even revel in, its murky depths. Characters make decisions because the director wills it, not because a fleshed-out, on-screen human being makes a choice. The bulk of the story lurches forward because it connects two points of a disjointed tale, not because it has any substance to offer those willing to invest in its mid-game mysteries. Had Kelly focused on the character-driven heart of "Button, Button," the heavy consequences his Lewises suffer after making their ultimate decision, and their desperate attempts to change the course of their fates; had he closed with the same stunning ending but flushed all of the zombie-inspired, Darko-infused nonsense that overburdens his first and second acts; had he given the film a cohesive identity and regulated its tone, I would be enamored with its nuances, and would probably be mouthing words like "brilliant" myself. But that just isn't the case. The Box isn't the perfectly paced thriller I had hoped for, and it certainly isn't the return to form Kelly needs to put him back in moviegoers' good graces. At best, it's a scattershot "Twilight Zone" episode. At worst, it's a botched opportunity in the vein of Shyamalan's The Happening. Rent it if curiosity compels you, but prepare yourself for the crushing disappointment so many others have felt in its wake.
Kelly's visuals are just as unwieldy and inconsistent as the film itself. Softness comes and goes, diffusion filters are employed then suddenly tucked away, subsequent detail is all over the place, and key special effects disappoint (the water coffins look as if they were produced with early '90s CG, the 1970s cityscapes are a bit cartoonish, and Langella's scarred cheek often appears disjointed from other elements in the same shot, even his own suit coat and tie). That being said, Warner's 1080p/VC-1 transfer is quite proficient, faithfully rendering the director's every intention with the utmost care. Nestled neatly amidst an unobtrusive veneer of faint grain, an effective wintry palette, capable fleshtones, ominous blacks, and filmic contrast lend the image strength. While scenes that take place in the NASA facilities suffer with bronzed faces and a boorish palette, the majority of the presentation is fairly impressive. Dreamy hazes notwithstanding, detail is just as strong. Textures are noteworthy, object definition is satisfying (even through slight ringing pops up on occasion), and delineation provides ample access to the darkest corners of Kelly's library basements and underground warehouses. Moreover, artifacting, banding, smearing, and noise reduction are nowhere to be found, and instances of ringing and aliasing are so rare that they never become a significant distraction.
Were I to rate The Box's transfer on appearance alone, my score would be lower. However, I'm not interested in penalizing a technical presentation for adhering to its filmmakers' intentions. Anyone armed with appropriate expectations will be pleased.
Warner's DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track doesn't fare as well. Dialogue is flat and muddy, and even occasionally sounds as if it's being spoken on the other side of a window. Voices tend to get buried beneath Arcade Fire's jarring score, and are forced to compete with overpowering ambient effects far too often. Simple conversations in Lewis' kitchen are clear and intelligible, sure, but anytime Norma heads to school, Arthur goes to work, or the couple venture beyond the walls of their home, the entire soundscape grows soggy and indistinct. Rear speaker activity and LFE output are just as unreliable, if not more so. There are moments when the trio make their presence known -- a passing truck, an investigation of a murdered woman's house, a waking girl, and a third-act car accident -- but little else demands attention. The track is fairly front-heavy, and bass tones are too earthy, clouding the aural waters and sullying fidelity. Even so, directionality is decent, and the sound designers have a bit of playful fun with side-to-side and front-to-back pans. A more traditional, or at the very least a more accessible soundfield would have been welcome, but I'll admit it's somewhat immersive in its own peculiar way. Director's intention? It honestly wouldn't surprise me to learn that it all is. But without a word from Kelly to suggest otherwise, I have a hard time believing he would find artistic merit in such a mundane and listless sonic experience.
Unfortunately, the Blu-ray edition of The Box doesn't have a lot of special features on tap. Kelly's restrained director's commentary is fairly absorbing, but with a mere thirty minutes of additional material, the disc's supplemental package is a disappointment.
Audio Commentary: Writer/director/producer Richard Kelly delivers a thorough (albeit dry) commentary, dutifully detailing nearly every aspect of the production, his creative decisions, screenplay, casting choices, set and prop design, and more. He rarely pauses, and never seems to run out of topics to cover, but he doesn't sound as passionate about the film as I expected. Still, while I had a difficult time listening to him drone on and on in one sitting, fans of The Box should enjoy all of the information Kelly has to offer.
The Box: Grounded in Reality (HD, 11 minutes): Kelly discusses his decades old love affair with Richard Matheson's "Button, Button," alludes to several conversations with the author, and describes his approach to expanding a 7-page short story into a feature length film. He also touches on the historical events and inspirations behind his adaptation, including some very personal trials and tribulations from his own parents' lives.
Richard Matheson - In His Own Words (HD, 5 minutes): Matheson talks about his career, writing for television, his fans, developing his most beloved stories and, of course, the genesis of "Button, Button." Sadly, he's never given the opportunity to comment on The Box (although based on his well-publicized displeasure with the "Twilight Zone" episode based on his short story, I can only imagine he was less than thrilled with Kelly's off-kilter adaptation).
Visual Effects Revealed (HD, 4 minutes): VFX editor Dylan Highsmith hosts this all-too-brief trio of featurettes that examine the creation of Arlington's scarred face, the water coffins, and 1970s Richmond.
Music Video Prequels (HD, 9 minutes): Three dull short films of sorts that tie into the film.
The best part of The Box was hearing my inner-Brad Pitt scream "what's in the baaaahx!?" every time the red-buttoned menace appeared on screen. The film itself is a mess. Its screenplay struck me as a nonsensical laugh riot, its performances are bizarre and ineffective (particularly from any supporting actor whose last name isn't Langella), and Kelly's tone, dialogue, pacing, and visuals are all over the place. A strong endgame saves The Box from my worst-of-the-year list, but not by much. The Blu-ray edition doesn't help matters. While the disc's faithful video transfer deserves some praise, but murky DTS-HD Master Audio track falls short and its anemic supplemental package is brief, bland, and stingy. A high-quality release might have spared The Box from the scorn of disinterested cinephiles, but its eternal destination most likely lies at the bottom of the Blu-ray bargain bin.
Warner Home Video has announced that it will release 'The Box' on Blu-ray on February 23, in a BD/DVD/Digital Copy combo edition. 'The Box' is a science-fiction thriller, written and directed by Richard Kelly, based upon a short story written by Richard Matheson. ...
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