Liquid Sunshine (DVD Edition)

Liquid Sunshine DVD Edition
Directed and Organized by Jon Barton
Written by Beth Rotheray and Jon Barton

Since it came out a year ago, I've seen Liquid Sunshine more times than I usually care to watch anything. I've watched it at least once a month, sometimes two or three times in a row. It has that kind of power. I suppose the reason the film is so easy to return to is because it represents a complete mental process, that begins with disorientation, attempts to find a solid reference point to grab onto, recalls embarrassing or humiliating situations and draws sobering conclusions, and eventually reconciles them with a simple realization. No human being over the age of, say, 16 (who isn't an emotionless prick) should find this train of thought alien to them. It's the foundation for every personal crisis, every moment of weakness or insecurity when you just have to sit down and wonder if you're living up to what you want or wanted to be, if you're worth the effort of everything that's produced you. Having an opportunity to come back to the film a year later and get an insight into the unique circumstances that produced it has brought the feeling of my initial viewing back. This is a very special film.

Remastered Version

The changes made to Liquid Sunshine's original cut are startlingly effective, mostly because they're almost invisible. Jon has physically changed very little of the film, correcting what he felt was a frustrating disconnect in the visual style (as evidenced by one of the two commentary tracks) by replacing questionable use of gradients with solid colors or wackydings objects, which weren't available when the film was released. Some of these changes look better, while for some I actually preferred the original designs, but they're window dressing to the overall piece, and the movie's general aesthetic hasn't changed. The vomiting scene is, perhaps appropriately, the most standout visual alteration, perhaps taking a lift from Pamela towards a more realistic chunk spewing rather than the more cartoony and explosive version last time (maybe I should return the favor for the Pamela DVD?).

But the most powerful changes are much more relevant to the feel of the movie: sound and pacing. I had forgotten over the past year how Liquid Sunshine took some internalized translation work to get the full effect of it, due to volume issues and lines overlapping. Jon has extended the framecount of several scenes, allowing for breathing room I didn't realize the film had desperately needed. The invisible extensions increase Liquid Sunshine's runtime by about 20 seconds. This sounds negligable -- It's not. It buffers and reinforces the pacing of the film in exactly the right places, giving us an extra second or two to contemplate what's being said and allow it to make an impact. The film has more weight than it used to, and this subtle alteration is far more relevant and justified than fantastic-looking but redundant new scenes would have been.

And that's perhaps the best thing about the remastered version. No more hints or revelations into the nature of his condition are given, no flashbacks to the diagnosis, no outright explanation of why he's in the hospital haphazardly spliced in at the end. Instead, his memories, his skewed perspective and twisted observations about the irony of his position are given more weight by the small structural edits and improved music quality, which seem small but end up going a long way. Most importantly, Liquid Sunshine as a whole stands the test of time, remaining almost endlessly watchable, each viewing enhanced by the implications and what they mean for the viewer, with his own perspective on life. Jon, I salute you for making this film. And I can assure you that these implications extend far beyond the small circle of viewers you were expecting. I eagerly await the live-action version.

DVD Extras

The remastered edition is packaged with a whole slew of additional features, including two commentaries, a timeline of the project, the original novel written by Beth Rotheray (with Jon doing the intro and final paragraphs), all of the reviews to the original movie, teasers for Ringworld, Liberation Day, and a featurette on the upcoming Batman: The Killing Joke. The amount of material here for a film so short is startling, and makes the package well worth the download time. The Previews and Trailers folder is the first place viewers likely to head, and the Batman sneak peak the sure target, so I'll start there. Jon does something I'd always wished the 3DMMers United magazines did, or did better in the case of interview montages: he explains his plans in documentary form, occasionally over early footage and concept art for the movie, but usually with Patrick sitting in the chair talking. This can get a little dull, and his narration borders on repetitive or even overly vague at times, but he manages to get across the ideas he's having for the film well enough. Certainly his ideas are more ambitious and far trickier to communicate in cinema than most 3DMM directors usually shoot for, so it's hard not to admire his drive even as you're occasionally straining to hear what he's saying over the voice compression and background music.

The commentaries are very informative, highly intelligent, and very entertaining to listen to. Jon gives a great deal of insight into the making of the film and several interesting anecdotes about specific moments (I love his description of the vomiting scene as "100 frames of JOY"). While much of the process and meaning of the film is discussed, it feels like the short runtime of Liquid Sunshine prevents him from really getting into it as much as he could have, but with two commentary tracks running the entire length of the film, most of the necessary bases are covered. Jon is collected, quick-witted, and clearly comfortable with the commentary format; you'll find none of the awkwardness of Goro and I's Redux track here. I'm eagerly anticipating the commentary for Ringworld.

But by far the most impressive thing here, for me, is the Production Notes folder, which includes the kind of elaborate detail into the directing and planning process that I'm a stickler for in 3DMM. More information and additional material is provided here than for any project I've ever seen, and the information itself is interesting and original in ways you might not expect. A detailed timeline of the film gives us a clear idea of where the idea came from and the revisions it went through to make it into the short we all know today. Also included are transcripts of the two commentaries and a translation of 'The Flower of Carnage', which ultimately reveals it far more suited for Kill Bill Vol. 1 in its meaning than for Liquid Sunshine, but the melancholy nature of the song still works perfectly.

What I fell in love with, however, was the excerpt from Beth's novel. The writing here makes the monologue from the film feel like a book jacket summary by comparison. It's utterly captivating, expanding the snarky one-liners from the film into a full, beautifully scatterbrained masterpiece of a thought process. The character jumps right off the screen and comes to life. The final rationalization he makes at the end of the film, portrayed here in a more developed and heartbreaking form, almost brought tears to my eyes. It's that good.

And so it goes. The two-punch combination of details into the filmmaking process and insight into the real-life experience and tragedy that produced Liquid Sunshine allows the movie to flower out and reveal depths that even analysis of the original release didn't hint at. Jon has put together an almost perfect DVD package, well-balanced, generous in its content, and genuinely heartfelt in every nook and cranny. What a beautiful, bittersweet project.

Critical Score: 100/100.
Personal Score: 100/100.