Rating summary

Movie		2.0
Video		2.5
Audio		3.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		2.0

There's Always Vanilla Blu-ray Movie Review

Goodbye, Pittsburgh.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman November 15, 2017

Note: This film is available as part of George A. Romero: Between Night and Dawn.

Mention the name George A. Romero to just about anyone, and if they recognize it, chances are they’ll be prone to think largely of films like Night of the Living Dead, or indeed prone to think only of that film. The legendary 1968 zombie film was such a watershed moment in the history of horror that it perhaps unavoidably branded Romero and his coterie of Pittsburgh collaborators in ways that any creative artist would probably try to break free from, if only to clearly establish that they were not a “One-Trick Pony” (so to speak). There’s an obvious “and now for something completely different” streak running through the three films that Arrow has assembled in its cheekily titled Between Night and Dawn set. This trio of films consists of the trifecta Romero and his repertory company (both in front of and behind the camera) produced in the wake of Night of the Living Dead. Of the three, the first film to come out after Night of the Living Dead, There’s Always Vanilla, is perhaps the “most” completely different, due at least in part to the fact that Romero didn’t write it (and, notably, considered the finished film something of a disaster). Season of the Witch and (especially) The Crazies arguably have more in common with what’s traditionally thought of as Romero canon, with plot lines that at least touch on science fiction or otherworldly phenomena, and with both addressing a frequent subtext of Romero’s works, the dialectic between an anachronistic individualist and those heeding to societal norms.

It may next to impossible not to think of Forrest Gump’s reminiscence about his mother and that now iconic “life is like a box of chocolates” line when There’s Always Vanilla gets to a central scene that helps to define why the film has this unusual title. A vet named Chris Bradley (Raymond Laine) has spent a great deal of the film kind of drifting aimlessly, something that has brought him into a relationship with Lynn (Judith Streiner). A number of semi-soap operatic incidents have intruded, however, and Chris, retreating to a conformist life with his father (Roger McGovern), gets some advice from good old Dad that (in this film’s formulation) life is like an ice cream parlor, and while there may be lots of unusual flavors to sample, sometimes it’s best to fall back on plain, old fashioned vanilla.

There’s Always Vanilla is certainly a film that few would ever think of someone like George A. Romero making, and that seems to include Romero himself, at least as evidenced by his disparaging comments about the film in an interview included on this Blu-ray as a supplement. Despite the connection to Forrest Gump that can be seen now courtesy of 20/20 hindsight, There's Always Vanilla was in fact made in the wake of the burgeoning “youth” and “indie” movements of the late sixties and early seventies, and particularly with films like Goodbye, Columbus in mind (again, according to some of the supplements on this release). Even with that kind of movie as a referent, There’s Always Vanilla is by any measure a very peculiar little film, one that clearly shows its genesis as what amounts to being more or less a “demo reel” for lead actor Raymond Laine. The original version of the film was in fact so short (since it wasn’t initially planned as a true feature) that a whole series of interstitial “confessional” sequences featuring Chris speaking directly to the camera had to be added in order to pad its running time.

There’s a loosey-goosey feeling to There’s Always Vanilla that suggests Rudolph J. Ricci’s screenplay could have used more shaping, and as such the film kind of drifts, much like Chris himself. An unexpected pregnancy provides a bit of drama, but the film never really “goes” anywhere, instead trafficking in a weird kind of hippie-esque ambience that may cheekily offer some subtext that even vanilla tastes okay if you’ve got a serious case of the munchies.

There's Always Vanilla Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

There's Always Vanilla is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Arrow Video with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.33:1 (not in the 1.37:1 advertised in Arrow's verbiage below). Arrow's insert booklet contains the following information on this restoration:

There's Always Vanilla has been restored by Arrow Films and is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.37:1 with mono sound. A 35mm internegative element, the best quality material available for this film, was scanned in 2K resolution on a pin-registered Arriscan at OCN Digital. The film was graded and restored at R3store Studios, London. The original mono soundtrack was transferred from the optical negative elements.

During the late 1960s and early 1970s, Kodak negative duping stock was extremely unstable and the cyan layer faded very quickly, along with much of the shadow detail and the colour information in the cyan layer. When this material is scanned years later it results in an overall murkly image with green hues appearing in the black areas and extensive overall detail loss. As such, this presentation of There's Always Vanilla exhibits many signs of wear and damage, in keeping with the condition of the element.

With that commendably detailed account in place, and with an understanding that There's Always Vanilla was originally shot on 16mm (meaning any secondary 35mm elements are blow ups), I'll only point out a few specific anomalies that are kind of interesting from a visual standpoint. As the above verbiage amply indicates, the color timing here is highly variable and rather peculiar, but one of the odder issues that occasionally shows up is what I'd call "outlining" of various figures. Look, for example, at the midsection of screenshot 18, where what resembles an outline can be seen on Laine's shoulder and Streiner's profile. Densities are as highly variable as the color space, with some looking more or less accurate (see screenshot 3), but others looking either wan or in some cases almost psychedelic, with hints of posterizing (see screenshot 5). Grain is rather heavy almost all of the time, but resolves surprisingly well throughout the presentation. With an understanding of what obviously went into this effort, the results here are at least okay looking, if probably not due to excite viewers too much. As odd as it may sound, then, a 2.5 score for this presentation is actually good news, considering the issues the original source element evidently had.

There's Always Vanilla Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

All three films in this set feature LPCM Mono tracks, and all share many of the same characteristics, so I'll treat them in tandem. While dialogue, effects and the sometimes unusual score choices (including some electronic music) come through with relative clarity, all three tracks suffer from an undeniable boxiness that tends to tamp down energy and can make things sound artificial at times. There is also occasional but not overly distracting distortion at times, especially in the higher registers when voices get raised or (more noticeably) when some of the brasher cues are being utilized.

There's Always Vanilla Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Audio Commentary with Travis Crawford


• Affair of the Heart: The Making of There's Always Vanilla (1080p; 29:43) is a nicely done retrospective featuring some good interviews with John Russo, Russell Streiner, Judith Streiner, Richard Ricci and Gary Streiner.


• Digging Up the Dead: The Lost Films of George A. Romero (1080i; 15:56) is a great archival Anchor Bay piece with Romero opining (sometimes none too favorably) on these films.


• Image Galleries include:

  Filming Locations (1080p; 11:30) features commentary by Romero historian Lawrence DeVincentz.

  Collectible Scans (1080p; 1:09) offers an assortment of things like signed stills and posters.



• Trailer (1080i; 1:45)

There's Always Vanilla Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Ray Laine got a nice demo reel out of this deal, but it's hard to see why anyone other than a casting agent (and maybe not even then) would be overly interested in this meandering affair. It's a curio, to be sure, but it's not hard to see why Romero doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with it. Video is hampered by source inadequacies that evidently no amount of heroic restoration efforts could completely overcome, so expectations should be set accordingly. As usual, Arrow has assembled some appealing supplements for this release.