Don Shanahan
Continuing its long tradition of restoring and updating both classic independent and studio-backed films, Kino Lorber recently upgraded and released 1992’s Sneakers for the first time on the 4K-UHD disc format. Directed by Phil Alden Robinson of Field of Dreams fame during an era long before the cyberthrillers would become more en vogue later that decade, the Universal Pictures release deftly combined charm, suspense, and a crack cast to be a moderate audience and critical favorite. Film Obsessive was granted an advance copy of the new disc, allowing for this review in our regular “Off the Shelf” series reviewing physical media releases.
THE MOVIE
Pulling Sneakers out 33 years later, what immediately stands out the most is the assembled cast of quality actors, some that were already established and others that would become future character actor staples. The above-the-title headliner was Oscar winner Robert Redford, squeezing this movie in between Havana and Indecent Proposal on his resume. Getting his face in front of Redford’s on the poster was fellow Academy Award winner Sidney Poitier, appearing in his first movie in four years after Little Nikita in what would be his second-to-last film role.
Redford plays Martin Bishop, the leader of a rag-tag security consultant team who specializes in breaking into their client’s homes or businesses to assess their security risks and deficiencies. Sidney Poitier is Donald Crease, an ex-CIA agent who oversees operations. At that time, securing two bankable leads like Redford and Poitier was all—after a viable spec script or concept—a traditional 1990s studio programmer needed to do to get off the ground. Movies like Sneakers became greater because of the extra ingredients.
Rounding out Martin’s “boys club” is Dan Aykroyd’s Darren “Mother” Roskow, the prerequisite conspiracy theorist, David Strathairn as the blind audio specialist Irwin “Whistler” Emery, and the late River Phoenix as Carl Arbogast, the young apprentice of the bunch. Nabbing some like Aykroyd coming off of Ghostbusters and Driving Miss Daisy counts as a casting coup for a smaller film like this, and so does getting River Phoenix while he was the red-hot “next big thing” and plugging in a future Oscar nominee like Strathairn in one of his five 1992 movies in the middle of his “That Guy” run. Out of all that, the actual third lead belongs to Dances with Wolves Oscar nominee Mary McDonnell as Liz, Redford’s love interest.
Martin’s casual squad finds themselves pressed to take a new job from a pair of NSA spooks (Eddie Jones and Timothy Busfield, going back to back with director Phil Alden Robinson after Field of Dreams) who threaten to expose Martin’s true identity. Martin Bishop is actually Martin Brice, an FBI fugitive for computer and bank fraud since 1969 when he and his college classmate Cosmos used to hack prominent bank accounts. Their demand is for Martin’s team to follow a renowned touring mathematician, Dr. Gunther Janek (Donal Logue), who may be linked to the Russians. Rumors are circulating that Janek may have built a mechanized codebreaker box of circuits and processors, namely the exact working MacGuffin device Martin must deliver to the suits. When the job goes south in this Bay Area setting, the plot thickens and reveals the puppeteering strings of a long-thought-dead Cosmos, played by Academy Award winner Ben Kingsley.
Call it a pot-boiler, a caper, or even an archaic cyberthriller, the obstacle course of Sneakers’ clues, puzzles, and the intellectual relationships in play made for entertaining intrigue. While the technology used in the movie has no doubt aged, the intelligent chops of surveillance and semi-domestic spycraft have not. If anything, Sneakers makes it look as zesty as it is plucky. Something more neutral in terms of lasting relevance is both the portrayal of governmental reliance on mathematical cryptography for computer security and the villain’s soapboxes about the fragility of such implications in the new decade.
Trite as it may all sound now in Sneakers, there’s enough to rub your chin about to see where it all goes, especially when the scheme is populated by a perfect-placed ensemble such as this. They know their cog in the greater machine, and the banter is playful and encouraging. Each cast member has their thumbnail mini-backstory that shades their present personality, and everyone one of them gets their moment to be a crucial part of the action. No one is over-acting or over-chewing any scenery, even if composer James Horner’s score—enhanced by cues from saxophonist and future The Tonight Show bandleader Branford Marsalis—tries over in its respective sensory department.
In the fall of 1992, Sneakers enjoyed a two-week run as the #1 movie at the North American box office before The Last of the Mohicans would take the mantle. The film would quadruple its budget with worldwide earnings that crossed $105 million before enjoying more steady business on the home media and rental fronts. The breezy movie enjoys a 79% “Certified Fresh” score on Rotten Tomatoes to this day (a score that will go up a few ticks after this piece is submitted). They had me at the cast then and now. Nevertheless, Sneakers is analog proof you don’t need explosions or catastrophic world-hanging-in-the-balance stakes to make an engrossing cyberthriller.
THE DISC
The new 4K-UHD Sneakers disc from Kino Lorber, unfortunately, does not include any new material other than the features created for previous DVD and Blu-ray releases. Kino Lorber is banking on nostalgia and the sound and resolution bumps to attract buyers. For a film this age, the technical improvements are substantial upgrades. The native 4K picture is pristine, flexing how much the high dynamic range restored or retained practical colors and shadows. The 2.0 audio and 5.1 mix do the trick for keeping the sound side of things strong. This isn’t the kind of whiz-bang blockbuster that needs the Dolby Atmos treatment, and that’s fine.
The best bonus feature on Sneakers is the making-of documentary. Directed by J. M. Kenny, it stretches a very robust 41 minutes, especially considering it was made in an era years before DVDs would churn these out on the regular. It describes how the Sneakers concept was born after WarGames became a computer-phobic hit. Most of the production diary follows director and screenwriter Phil Alden Robinson talking plot shop with WarGames co-writers Lawrence Lasker and Walter F. Parkes. The trio openly describes the prior ideas and iterations that brought their script to the silver screen, including some prescient headlines and tales of actual early hackers and cybersecurity professionals. To hear them talk about the issues then, let alone what we still have now, is admittedly fascinating.
Sneakers boast two feature-length audio commentary tracks. The first includes the aforementioned writer’s room trio of Robinson, Laske, and Parkes. They add more details to the overall story progression roots and the studio involvement to ensure this one was an audience hit. The film’s humorous moments of dialogue get their knowing snickers. The second commentary has cinematographer John Lindley (Sleeping with the Enemy, Father of the Bride) joining Phil Alden Robinson. Their conversation goes more into shooting and location anecdotes. A collection of five Robert Redford-centered trailers from previous Kino Lorber-refined movies (Sneakers, 3 Days of the Condor, Havana, Indecent Proposal, The Last Castle) close the special features menu.
Still, Kino Lorber’s lack of new special features is one area where the studio consistently falls short next to other high-profile boutique labels like Shout! and The Criterion Collection. Their inclusion of retrospective or anniversary nuggets, even if they are small, always brings more collectors’ eyes to a new disc and triggers the need-to-have-it completionists out there. For one more knock, the Sneakers special features all reside on the Blu-ray disc of the set and not the main 4K-UHD one, meaning those pieces didn’t get the same facelift as the movie.
