The Film

In short fiction of any medium, everything has to be perfect. Chandler Tuttle understands this and has crafted a film in which not a single step is out of place. "2081," adapted from Kurt Vonnegut's short story "Harrison Bergeron," depicts an imprisoning "ideal" United States, in which everyone is forced to wear handicapping devices so that they are equal on every level. The strong wear weights, the intelligent wear headphones that emit distracting bursts of noise, and the beautiful wear masks. The film alternates between a tired, weighted-down man watching television with his wife, and a rebel disrupting a ballet to fight for inequality. What transpires is beautiful.

The concept alone is relevant, but the film works because of its imagery and music. The sullen face of the old man at home emanates tiredness, and his wife, unimpeded by handicapping devices, is hopelessly gaunt, as if she has given herself wholly to the equality ideal. Their life at home, which consists of them occasionally exchanging words about trivial matters, is so naturally sad that they don’t have to fight to show us how miserable they are. Emphasizing the dullness of their lives, the location’s colors are overwhelmingly brown and dull green. There is life here, but it has lost all vibrancy.

Where the imagery is most prominent, however, is in the ballet scenes. The chained weights hanging from the ballerinas’ otherwise graceful bodies are so medieval as to defile the beauty of the dance. Watching the ballerinas perform in them evokes a sadness that must be akin to that of watching a chained bird try to fly. When the fugitive revolutionary Harrison Bergeron bursts in, walks on stage, and threatens to blow the theater up if the audience does not listen to him, his unkempt hair and cross-like handicaps immediately portray him as a Christ figure. It takes such an outcast to reawaken the world.

Perhaps more salient than the imagery, though, is the music. The musical accompaniment to the ballet is so soothing that it provides a comforting backdrop to the pain of the married couple’s life as it plays on the TV in their living room. In the film’s climax, Bergeron removes his handicaps on stage, persuades a ballerina to do the same, and orders the symphony to play. As they do, Bergeron and the ballerina begin dancing in a mesmerizing scene as the ballet audience slowly comes to understand the beauty of freedom, exemplified not only by this rebellious act but by dance itself. The mesmerism lies not in the choreography of the dance but in the choreography of the scene as a whole. The camera cycles through the dancers, the audience, the invading police force, and the couple at home (who are shown to be Bergeron's parents), and it is all tied together by the music.

It would seem natural to call this film an Orwellian warning, but it is more accurately a portrayal of the necessity of embracing individuality – even, perhaps, if that individuality is abject. It is possible that in the far future such measures of social equalization would be considered by a government -- who knows? -- but “2081”'s value now is its demonstration of how great our differences make the world. And in a world devoid of such differences, a carefully coordinated defiant act becomes a moment of salvation. That which we thought was profane will become sacred.

The Extras

This is a bit disappointing. The only "extra," if you can call it that, is a trailer for the film. It would seem that the independent nature of "2081" would have made for at least an interesting commentary. An overview of the background of the source material would have been nice, too.

Video/Audio

The transfer here is adequate, but there is occasional bleeding and heavy grain and artifacting. The bleeding is not too problematic and mostly affects the opening and closing red-on-black credits, which become almost unreadable. The grain is a shame, however, because the film's lighting appears to be handled with immense care. When portions of the picture become blurred, it counteracts such precision.

Sound-wise, the DVD is great. From the beginning of the film, even before we know what is going on, the orchestral music is emitted proudly from all speakers. The levels remain perfect throughout, and the lone cello that plays at a crucial moment is almost tear-pulling.

Packing/Menus

There's not much to this release, but what is there is presented attractively. We get inherently rebellious cover art on a frosty-translucent standard case. Inside is a single-page but thick insert with a quote from Bergeron on one side and a short description of the film on the other. The menu is attractive, elegant, and, with only two options (play the movie or play the trailer), simple.

Conclusion

This is a great film, simply put. It's just too bad the DVD wasn't given better treatment. The MSRP of $14.99 (which means you'll probably pay $11 to $13 for it) may be a bit much to ask for under thirty minutes of total content, but the film is so moving that you'll likely want to throw it back in the DVD player every once in a while for a quick viewing. This is a tough call. I'm going to say that if "2081" sounds like a movie you'd particularly like and if you can find it for around $11 or less, go ahead and pick it up. Otherwise, a rental might be in order.