Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		3.5
Audio		3.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

Let's Make a Dream. . . Blu-ray Movie Review

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman March 30, 2018

Note: This release is available as part of Sacha Guitry: Four Films 1936-1938.

The back cover of the slipbox of this new Arrow Academy release makes the case that Sacha Guitry was the Gallic Noël Coward, but I’d like to offer another, perhaps decidedly more outré, comparison. While it may sound a little cheeky, something I won’t argue too much with, in a way Sacha Guitry might be thought of as the Tyler Perry of his time, despite their obvious differences in nationality and ethnicity. Much as with Perry’s ubiquitous output, Guitry seemed almost preternaturally able to write both plays at the drop of a veritable hat, many of which he filmed, as well as original screenplays written expressly for the big screen. Additionally, Guitry frequently starred in these productions, though I have yet to be able to discover any cross dressing (a la Madea). Perhaps most saliently, at least for some curmudgeons (ahem) who have found at least occasional deficits in Perry’s writing and execution, even some experts quizzed as talking heads in supplements included on this new set unashamedly mention, some of Guitry’s offerings were decidedly on the pedestrian side. This may be especially ironic, given Guitry’s association with so-called (and I’m about to pun horribly) “Boulevard Theater”. Within this kind of wide ranging style that was often aimed at the popular masses (as opposed to the intelligentsia), Guitry was well known for playing “boulevardier” roles, “slackers” of a sort who nonetheless often had peculiarly observant qualities that frequently allowed them to act as almost individual Greek Choruses in plays and films, offering trenchant commentary on the foibles of whomever they were watching, supposedly from the sidelines. (The fact that “Boulevard Theater” was in fact aimed at the supposedly common everyday working stiff sort is one reason that I might quibble a bit with the Coward comparison, since Coward’s work was typically fairly highbrow.) The four films in this set are in fact filmed versions of plays, and as such are almost unavoidably theatrical, though it’s interesting to see Guitry experimenting with then still fairly new techniques like long tracking shots within confined areas. Three of the four films have at least some things in common with Coward outings (and in fact Perry outings), positing fractured family relationships that often revolved around things like marital infidelity. The fourth film in the set, Let’s Go Up the Champs-Élysees might be thought of as a “limited French edition” of Mel Brooks’ History of the World: Part I, with the focal element being the famous titular boulevard.

Let’s Make a Dream. . . elevates Guitry’s often utilized plot of infidelity and other shenanigans, offering Guitry as an amorous guy with eyes for a married woman. The film actually begins with a so-called “Gypsy orchestra” playing underneath the credits, a performance that continues as Guitry guides the camera through a series of interior rooms where a glittering soirée is underway (there are a number of cameos by French stalwarts of the stage in this sequence). Even here in passing some of Guitry’s almost trademark disparagement of women shows up in little asides that some of the menfolk make, which, in commentator Ginette Vincendeau mentions, relegates females to being “fine, as long as they’re young and pretty”.

Guitry regular Jacqueline Delubac portrays the object of Guitry's fascination (it's notable that the three main characters in the piece are basically unnamed, identified only as types, i.e., The Lover, The Wife, etc.). She actually gives in to Guitry's attempts at seduction, leading to a rather forward thinking series of events where she spends the night with Guitry, only to have her husband show up unexpectedly.

This is in some ways the film that may remind fans most of Noël Coward, with a plot that might be thought of as a light comedy version of Brief Encounter. This film has some of the fluffier dialogue in the set, and it also features a really nicely done longer sequence where Guitry is the only character on screen, talking to himself as he attempts to place a phone call to his prospective lover.

Let's Make a Dream. . . Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

All four films in the Sacha Guitry box set are presented courtesy of Arrow Academy with AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.33:1. Arrow's insert booklet only offers fairly generic verbiage about the transfers, stating they were culled from "original film and audio elements" that Gaumont delivered in high definition to Arrow for this release. All four transfers are rather similar in terms of strengths and weaknesses, so I'll address them as a whole, with some specific comments about individual aspects. Grain is quite heavy in all of these presentations, which, along with some variant contrast and fairly noticeable softness, may indicate that solid primary elements were no longer available for these films. All four transfers have their fair share of damage, including things like scratches (some quite recurrent and long lasting) and warped frames. For example, while there are some short passing scratches in The New Testament early on, especially toward the right side of the frame, at around 33:36 a large vertical scratch toward the middle of the frame shows up and is present, with a few brief exceptions, for quite a bit of the rest of the film. My Father Was Right has what looks like photochemical damage that creates almost spore like splotches that are also recurrent for much of the early part of the film, and which pop up again later, and which are especially noticeable when backgrounds are lighter. Some opticals, as in the dissolves that are used in Let's Go Up the Champs-Élysées, can occasionally look a little rough as well. All of this said, with an understanding of the age and historical importance of these works, Arrow is providing a decent viewing experience that presents these works in an organic way that may be a little rough on occasion, but which show no annoying signs of overly aggressive digital manipulation.

Let's Make a Dream. . . Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

As with the video presentation, the four French LPCM Mono tracks on the films in this set all have a fairly similar sound. There's noticeable hiss on all four of them, something that can tend to slightly mask higher frequencies in the rather appealing music scores that accompany the films. Dialogue is also pretty boxy sounding, and occasionally has slight amplitude variances. With the optional English subtitles, though, nothing is really overly problematic.

Let's Make a Dream. . . Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

Let's Make a Dream. . . and Let's Go Up the Champs-Élysées share a disc, on which the following supplements can be found:

• Selected Scene Commentaries by Ginette Vincendeau

  Let's Make a Dream (1080p; 8:56)

  
  

  Let's Go Up the Champs-Élysées (1080p; 3:50)

• Mon fils avait raison (1080p; 4:26) is a visual essay by Philippe Durant detailing Guitry's representation of children in his films.


• Francis Veber on Let's Make a Dream. . . (1080i; 7:54)


• Let's Make a Dream. . . Sound Tests (1080p; 5:24)


• Let's Make a Dream. . . Theatrical Trailer (1080p; 4:05)

Let's Make a Dream. . . Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

While this film shares certain elements in common with The New Testament in particular, it's a much frothier concoction, and it's really rather forward looking, even if some of the passing comments about women are just as decidedly Neanderthal (or thereabouts) in nature. Guitry and Delubac have obvious chemistry, and even if the basic plot is cliché ridden, the performers are breezy and enjoyable. Video and audio show their age, but as usual Arrow has provided some enjoyable supplements.