Robert Chipman
Welcome to this column dedicated to my appreciation of physical media supplements called Feature Presentations. The goal of this column is not to say whether a film is good or bad and worth picking up or not—I would like to highlight the discs that go the extra mile and provide film fans with enough tasty tidbits to satisfy even the hungriest of cinephiles. Today’s article will focus on *batteries not included from Imprint Films.
I never have or will claim to be an expert in reviewing the technical specs of a physical media release. There are plenty of knowledgeable people in this realm of commenting on the audio and video aspects of a disc with better setups than I’ll ever own. This column, Feature Presentations, is a way of highlighting the supplemental material within a given disc. With all that out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff and dive into my review of this Blu-ray release of *batteries not included.
As a disclaimer of transparency for this episode of Feature Presentations, my review of *batteries not included comes from a review copy that Imprint Films provided for review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Cinema is a funny thing in that the power of films and the lasting imprint they leave with. Certain films from my childhood stick with me for one reason or another. Whether it was the imagination of Ghostbusters and Back to the Future, the badassery of Predator, or the power of A Nightmare on Elm Street and it being, as of this writing, the only film to truly terrify this author. Did it have to do with me being five years old? Probably, but nonetheless, it holds that distinction.
While those films hold special places in my heart, other films resonate as holding real estate in my memory bank. And one of those is *batteries not included.
More than a handful of times, it seemed as if *batteries not included would find its way onto my family’s television courtesy of what felt like weekly showings on local broadcast stations. As young as I was, even watching Predator and A Nightmare on Elm Street, I was a kid, and the idea of cute robotic lifeforms getting into tomfoolery with a handful of character cliches for 90-plus minutes appealed to me. I distinctly remember the limited locations, characters, and sitcom-style situations the plot threw out during its runtime. Carrying with me these light and fluffy memories gave me a sense of pause, wondering if those warm childhood feelings would translate to my viewing as an adult.
When an elderly couple finds that the building they manage finds themselves in a distressing situation when a property developer looks to overtake their place of residence and employment. As things look dire for the couple and their quirky band of residents, little miracles come from the heavens in the form of tiny alien spacecrafts. Soon, the elderly couple team up with their equally likable and cliched neighbors to save their building and learn a little bit about each other along the way.
If I didn’t tell you Steven Spielberg had his hand in *batteries not included, the opening moments give off what Joe Bob Briggs perfectly dubbed: “The Spielberg Glow.” While not directing the project, *batteries not included is a film that wants the viewer to smile and feel good, even if they are going to jam that happiness down your throat. Even if the film goes for the easiest path to your heartstrings and lays on the sentimentality extra thick, it is light and enjoyable with some excellent effects work and a stacked cast of talent in front and behind the camera.
The Imprint Films release includes a limited edition side-loading slipcase featuring the film’s theatrical poster. The interior Blu-ray case features an art wrap with an alternate piece of the *batteries not included marketing design. Both are beautiful, and I applaud Imprint Films for including two different designs.
The features on the disc begin with “Bringing Good Things to Life: Directing *batteries not included.” This audio-only interview with director Matthew Robbins is about as warm and friendly as the film itself. Robbins comments briefly on his career pre-*batteries not included before diving into his meeting with co-writer Mick Garris and executive producer Steven Spielberg. Robbins discusses the origins of the story via Amazing Stories, which semi-explains the cuddly nature of the film, the casting of the film’s two main leads, including the possibility of Burt Lancaster toplining the film, before spending a majority of the interview discussing the technical effects work. The chat is fairly laid back, like the film, and worth a listen.
“An Amazing Story: Writing *batteries not included” is a 14-minute interview with co-writer Mick Garris. Garris has always been someone who I appreciate more as a speaker than his writing and directing, and this interview continues to solidify those feelings. The writer discusses his beginnings, finding himself working on Spielberg’s Amazing Stories with director Matthew Robbins and how he came to board *batteries not included. Garris openly talks about his struggle with the film’s first draft and the gentle yet instructive criticism Steven Spielberg offered him on the script. From there, Garris gently guides the listener into the changes from his draft to the rewrites performed by Robbins and Brad Bird, and how their ideas added additional humor to the movie. While I wish there was more here, what we have is plenty and is my favorite feature on the disc.
The last interview, “Remembering James Horner: Scoring *batteries not included,” is a remembrance of the composer with his widow, Sara Horner. Unfortunately taken too soon in 2015, Sara Horner acts as a guide into the world and thought process of her late husband. Sara discusses how James Horner approached music, including creating a musical world in which the soundtrack lived, and, while not speaking for him, offers insight into how she viewed his work. Even with its 12-minute length, Sara conveys many of James Horner’s processes and ideas, acting as a window into the life of a composer gone too early.
Imprint Films closes out the Blu-ray of *batteries not included with the film’s theatrical trailer.
And there you have it! Revisiting *batteries not included after many years wasn’t the second coming of my childhood, but the whimsical and feel-good nature of the film keeps it from becoming complete sentimental trite. When it comes to banal, sappy films with a “Spielbergian Glow,” there’s much worse out there. I am happy to have rediscovered such a childhood staple, and Imprint Films did a solid job, as always, with a handful of brand-new interviews that make this disc worth checking out!
