Writer-director-star Albert Brooks makes Real Life an assured feature film debut with his classic, prescient comedy about reality television.
The Production: 5/5
There’s prescient — and then there’s Real Life. Released in 1979, a good 28 years before “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” entered the cultural lexicon, writer-director-star Albert Brooks deftly satirizes the entire concept of reality television (drawing inspiration from the landmark 1973 broadcast “An American Family” on PBS), while also laying out the blueprint for the “mockumentary” genre and making an assured feature film debut. Given all the plates being spun, Real Life is, even at face value, a reasonably light lark, frequently hilarious and in its final minutes, transcendently loony. It’s also a sharp-eyed depiction of the corrosive powers of the camera, and the impact of fame, when aimed at ordinary lives.
Brooks stars as himself — or, more accurately, “himself” — parachuting into Phoenix, Arizona from the sunny climes of Los Angeles to spend a year documenting the seemingly milquetoast Yeager family: Father Warren (Charles Grodin), mother Jeanette (Frances Lee McCain), daughter Lisa (Lisa Urette) and son Eric (Robert Stirrat). The heightened version of Brooks eagerly lays out the stakes, explaining that a dedicated camera crew will film every scrap of the Yeagers’ lives for 12 months, and the resulting film will change the very face of cinema, while yielding research material for interested academics (including, in a scene-stealing performance, J.A. Preston’s Dr. Ted Cleary) and bolstering his own, insatiable ego.
It’s a recipe for disaster (as any reality TV aficionado knows), and it’s not long before the project has gone profoundly off the rails. The first month finds Jeanette verbally torpedoing a family dinner, and making a pass at Brooks, while Warren, a respected veterinarian, blithely oversees the death of a prized patient. Through it all, Brooks keeps up a steady, increasingly desperate “On with the show, kids!” patter, even as it becomes glaringly apparent to all involved that the situation is rapidly becoming untenable.
By the time Brooks, clad in a robe, is cheerfully hauling a cameraman out of a domestic inferno, to the strains of Max Steiner’s iconic Gone with the Wind theme, Real Life has long since tipped over into sublime absurdity. It’s a testament to the sturdiness of Brooks and his collaborators’ world-building and point of view that the wild conclusion doesn’t undermine what’s come in the 90-odd minutes prior.
Working with screenwriters Monica Johnson and Harry Shearer (yes, of Spinal Tap and The Simpsons fame), Brooks sowed the seeds of this project in his output, over the preceding decade, for the then-burgeoning Saturday Night (later Saturday Night Live) program and its creator, Lorne Michaels. Having cut his teeth on deadpan short films, the leap from television to film (and, of course, the unspoken irony of making your first film about television) kicked off a run of classics still unmatched in the decades since. Albert Brooks is an American comic treasure and a peerless chronicler of middle-class foibles, whose filmography stands as some of the best movies of the last 50 years, an accomplishment which began with Real Life.
Video: 3.5/5
3D Rating: NA
Real Life takes its place in the Criterion Collection with a 1.85:1 anamorphic 4K UHD (2160p) transfer, which, according to the enclosed booklet, is a restoration of the 35mm original camera negative, supervised and approved by Brooks. Given the intentionally un-polished look of the film — cinematographer Eric Saarinen masterfully evokes both the then-contemporary setting as well as the on-the-fly nature of reality television — it is an image which will only look so good.
There is a heavy amount of grain at various points, but the bulk of the film is clean, crisp and clear, with certain sequences standing out with a bit more visual pop than others. The 4K disc includes high dynamic range (HDR), but the wider contrast doesn’t appear to add an appreciable amount of detail in what is often soft and grainy. All that said, this is likely the best Real Life has ever looked, and will ever look, on home video. The included Blu-ray disc largely duplicates the visual experience of the 4K disc, albeit with a smidge less fine detail.
Audio: 4.5/5
The original monoaural (1.0) soundtrack has also, per the included booklet, been restored from the original 35mm magnetic track. Dialogue and score — such as composer Mort Lindsey’s indelible, whistled theme — are heard free from distortion or degradation. Optional English subtitles are provided.
Special Features: 4/5
Real Life is offered in a two-disc configuration (one 4K UHD disc; one Blu-ray), but all the supplements are housed on the Blu-ray. “Albert Brooks on Real Life” (30:25; 1.85:1 anamorphic) is an engaging, newly filmed interview with the now 77-year-old actor, director and writer, who expounds about the making of his debut feature film, as well as his creative process prior to arriving in Hollywood. “Frances Lee McCain on Real Life” (14:42; 1.85:1 anamorphic) offers a different perspective on the film, and her reflections on working with Brooks. A Brooks-directed 3D theatrical trailer (3:08; 1.33:1) for Real Life is offered, stuffed full of optical trickery — and should you have a spare pair of 3D glasses lying around, offered in actual 3D! A booklet containing an essay by critic A.S. Hamrah rounds out the package.
Overall: 4/5
There’s prescient — and then there’s Real Life. Released in 1979, a good 28 years before “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” entered the cultural lexicon, writer-director-star Albert Brooks deftly satirizes the entire concept of reality television (drawing inspiration from the landmark 1973 broadcast “An American Family” on PBS), while also laying out the blueprint for the “mockumentary” genre and making an assured feature film debut. The Criterion Collection offers a solid video and audio restoration, along with slight but substantive extras, making this a must-grab for film fans and comedy obsessives alike.
Post Disclaimer
Some of our content may contain marketing links, which means we will receive a commission for purchases made via those links. In our editorial content, these affiliate links appear automatically, and our editorial teams are not influenced by our affiliate partnerships. We work with several providers (currently Skimlinks and Amazon) to manage our affiliate relationships. You can find out more about their services by visiting their sites.
Similar threads