Review for The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension

Introduction

After some 12 years, I get to revisit The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension, this time on Blu-ray. I remember how eagerly I pounced on the DVD check disc way back then, thrilled to finally watch the film that inspired so many sci-fi classics that came after it. I remember trying to come up with a definition of a cult movie, and at the time deciding that it was a film that the wider populace ignored, but inspired those in the know, and especially those who would have some degree of influence in the entertainment industry. Take Star Trek the Next Generation for instance. That’s not a show that you’d consider would have a lot to do with Buckaroo Banzai, but it’s replete with in-jokes and on-screen references. Of course you were never meant to know, given a low resolution medium without a pause button (NTSC television), or a lower resolution medium with a (wobbly) pause button (VHS). But now that The Next Generation is out on Blu-ray, just press pause when a display rapidly scrolls some text during the show. They actually have to write something on those text displays that the viewer was never meant to see, but on Blu-ray you can, and Buckaroo Banzai references abound. It seems that Yoyodyne Propulsion is still alive and kicking in the 24th Century.


Since I first reviewed Buckaroo Banzai, I’ve come up with another definition of a cult movie. I think a cult movie is a film that you never know how you’re going to react to; no matter how much you watch it. The first time I watched Buckaroo Banzai for review, I had a ‘best thing since sliced bread’ response to it, finally getting to see the film that had to that point had such an influence on my entertainment preferences. I rated it highly indeed. The second time I watched it, a year or so later, it must have caught me in a cranky mood, as I had no idea what it was trying to say, just didn’t click with it all. I thought it was a too clever by half approach to telling a dumb story, and I resolved to re-write my review. That resolution went the same way as most of my New Year resolutions, which is why that first review still stands. Then again, I watched Buckaroo Banzai for the third time a few years ago, and while I didn’t have that first time reaction, I did enjoy the film, found the fun in it again, although I still didn’t know what it was trying to say. This will be my fourth time watching the film, as it makes its Blu-ray debut in the UK. Maybe this time I’ll figure out what this film is about...


Buckaroo Banzai is a unique individual. Half Japanese and half American, he has grown up to be a pioneering neurosurgeon, particle physicist, martial artist and also plays mean guitar with his band, The Hong Kong Cavaliers. With the aid of Professor Hikita, he has just perfected the Oscillation Overthruster and having installed it in his revolutionary supersonic jet car, he breaks the dimensional barrier and traverses the eighth dimension. However, it’s not just the US government that has an interest in his achievement, as Black Lectroids from Planet 10 are observing from orbit. In 1938, Dr Emilio Lizardo failed in breaking the dimensional barrier but was possessed by John Whorfin, a Lectroid criminal who had been banished to the eighth dimension. Since 1938 the Red Lectroid exiles have been living on Earth and preparing to return to Planet 10 to once again rise to power. The Black Lectroids give Buckaroo Banzai an ultimatum, to stop the Red Lectroids from escaping their prison or the Earth will be destroyed.

Picture

Buckaroo Banzai gets a 2.35:1 widescreen 1080p transfer, and it looks very fine to me. Other than the odd fleck of dirt in composite effects shots, the print is clean and absent any significant print damage. There is a smidge of wobble apparent, especially in the opening credits, but again it’s nothing to be concerned by. It looks like a nice transfer of a film source, with little or nothing done to ‘enhance’ it for Blu-ray presentation, as some classic films have suffered. Film grain is present and natural looking, and I was going to say just as natural as the films colour palette, but this is a lurid neon 1980s feature film, and these are colours meant to pain the retina. I don’t think I’ve seen any red, as red as Reno’s shirt.

Sound

You have the choice between DTS-HD MA 5.1 Surround and PCM 2.0 Stereo English, with optional SDH subtitles. I gave the 5.1 track a try, and it’s a subtle up-mix, giving a little more space and volume to the effects and music while maintaining the front and centre stereo focus for the dialogue. It’s an agreeable, understated affair, but purists will no doubt prefer the stereo audio, which is very well represented here in uncompressed form. One thing that might have you opting for the stereo is that there is a slight pop in the surround audio at 1:17:40, which is absent in the stereo. I admit that I am the kind of person who gets annoyed by minuscule flaws like that.

Extras

The film gets presented on this dual layer Blu-ray with an animated menu based on the iconic closing credits. I recall having a whinge about the barebones UK DVD release, pointing out all of the extra features that the US 2-disc DVD had at the time.

All has been rectified for the Blu-ray as we get those extra features now, and more on top.

The Tao of Buckaroo lasts 16:36 presented in 1080p, and offers an interview with Peter Weller about the film, recorded in April 2015 as he talks about the inspiration for his character, and more.

Lord John offers a 13:39 1080p interview with John Lithgow, recorded around the same time, as he discusses his character.

The Buckaroo Banzai Declassified featurette comes from that US DVD, is presented here in 1080i (with the film clips apparently re-edited in HD, with the rest of the featurette scaled-up). This was created for the 2002 DVD, reworking a contemporary making of featurette into something of a retrospective mockumentary. This lasts 22:51.


The Lincoln Center Q&A was filmed in 2011, and in it director Kevin Smith hosts a Q & A session with Peter Weller and John Lithgow, although he offers most of the Qs. This lasts 43:27 in 1080p, and is an interesting look back at the film, with some comments familiar from the 2015 interviews but most of the discussion is new. Incidentally, Kevin Smith can be an acquired taste, and if the disc rating gets bumped up from the original 12 to a 15, you know whose profanity to blame.

The Visual Essay from Matt Zoller Smith lasts 18:08 HD, and in it he discusses the film, its inspirations and its reception.

The Alternate Opening lasts 7:14 and as you have the option of watching it reintegrated into the movie, is quite naturally presented in 1080p format. The quality of the footage doesn’t match the rest of the movie though, although as it’s a ‘home movie’ it can get away with it.

The Audio Commentary is taken from the 2002 DVD release, and just like the Declassified featurette goes with the conceit that Buckaroo Banzai and the Institute are real, the film is a dramatisation of real events, and is a little more tongue in cheek. You get to hear the director W. D. Richter, and writer Earl Mac Rauch (albeit in the guise of the ‘real’ Reno).


You get the Closing Sequence of the film sans credits so you can get the full effect of the Banzai Strut. This lasts 4:03 and is in HD.

There are 14 deleted scenes with the film, context provided by captions, which with a play all option run to 14:17. Again they are presented in 1080p, but are up-scaled from very rough quality footage.

The Teaser Trailer runs to 1:17 HD.

The Jet Car Concept 2:26 1080i, is a CG promo for a proposed Buckaroo Banzai TV series at the end of the nineties, which didn’t eventually make it on screen.

There are hundreds of promo pics, behind the scenes photos, and stills in the Gallery, although it’s one you’ll have to click through with your remote.


Banzai Radio was once a thing, and we get one episode here played against the poster of the film. In it Denise Okuda interviews Terry Erdmann about the promotion of the film (which Erdmann was involved in) and the subsequent fan reaction. Incidentally these are both names I’m familiar with as a Star Trek fan since the mid eighties, which explains the Buckaroo Banzai references in TNG I mentioned earlier. This lasts 10:02.

Finally there is a 20 page booklet that comes with the release, offering an essay on ‘The Last Cult Movie’ by James Oliver.

All that’s missing from that US DVD release is the Pinky Carruthers’ Unknown Facts text trivia commentary, some text character profiles and some tie-in promo and design imagery.

Conclusion

I don’t think I’ll get that first blush, greatest movie ever feeling for The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension again. That was probably a one time only deal, with me pre-disposed to the film by years of references and winks from other shows and movies. But neither do I think I’ll have that knee-jerk second time around reaction, as I berated myself for overly flattering the film on first viewing, after having the blinkers removed to its several flaws. And it is a flawed movie, most certainly needing a performance from its lead actor to match the manic intensity of John Lithgow as Emilio Lizardo. Instead Peter Weller plays Banzai a little too understated for my liking. That the actors played the movie as straight, wholly deadpan certainly adds to the comic effect, but a little more exuberance would have helped. As it is, what should have been a high point of the film, where Lizardo and Banzai face off towards the end, fails to make the dramatic impact it should.


That might be Buckaroo Banzai’s overall weakness, a lack of dramatic impact. It’s certainly modelled on those 1930s serials, just like Star Wars was, especially the Doc Savage stories (now there’s a movie that needs a worthy release, Doc Savage: The Man of Bronze), stories which dealt with regular cliff-hangers and exciting resolutions. But with Buckaroo Banzai, you never get the edge of the seat effect of thrills and excitement, as if it deliberately underplays these elements in favour of savouring its universe and enjoying its characters instead.


But that is part of its charm as well, always eschewing the traditional movie route, preferring to forge its own path through the narrative. It plays like an open ended story, with no beginning or end; we’re just thrown into the middle, expected to pick it up as we go along. The basic story is there, the Oscillation Overthruster, the Eighth Dimension, the Lectroids Black and Red, and Emilio Lizardo’s determination to get back to Planet 10 and regain power. But just where is this story going, what are the character arcs, just what is the relationship between Banzai and Penny Priddy (and for that matter Peggy)? It’s a film that makes you work to get the most out of it, and as such, most everyone who watches it will come away with a different impression. As mentioned once or twice in the extra features, that makes it less a movie, and more a piece of art. But for an art movie, it’s the most mainstream and accessible art movie there is.


There is so much to appreciate about this work of art as well. It does call back to the serials and comic books of the nineteen –thirties, but it also throws in a healthy dose of cold war paranoia as well. The racial overtones of the Red (neck) Lectroids as villains verses the Jamaican Patois speaking Black Lectroids is obvious, but the Red (menace) Lectroids hiding in plain sight in everyday America, is another obvious allegory. And the traditional rabid mistrust is supplied by the Secretary of Defence, and another understated character, President Widmark. It’s a quintessentially eighties film as well, in terms of costume design, production design, and music, very much the kind of primary coloured effusion that appeals to me. Then there is the love affair with all things Japanese, something which as an anime fan I can appreciate, but a love affair that Buckaroo Banzai was pretty early to embrace, long before it became mainstream. Then there is the Grover’s Mill, War of the Worlds references as well... Buckaroo Banzai is an embarrassment of riches for fans of pop-culture.


The debate about Buckaroo Banzai’s place in the lexicon of cinema will no doubt rage on and on, but Arrow have certainly come up trumps with the Blu-ray. The transfer is fantastic, giving the film an exemplary high definition presentation, while loading the disc with copious and much appreciated extra features. Given the previous barebones UK DVD release of this film, you shouldn’t hesitate in upgrading it.