Review: Milos Forman’s ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ on Warner Blu-ray

Milos Forman’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest begins with a sort of perp walk in reverse. R.P. McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) strolls into a mental institution for the first time, escorted by prison guards and grinning from ear to ear. His handcuffs get released and a sudden, freeing sense of exhilaration washes over him. McMurphy then stares up a spiral staircase at a few curious patients, hooting into the air and spontaneously kissing one of the guards—a performer center stage in the spotlight.

This man is obviously not mentally ill, or at least not in the same sense as the various other patients that we glimpse in a slow, methodical montage preceding our memorable introduction to McMurphy. No, McMurphy is an emotional opportunist, but over the course of the meticulously constructed film, this very sane disregard for authority will evolve from simple selfishness into a more complex brand of selflessness, one that ferociously confronts stigmas around the mentally ill.

At first, McMurphy sees life inside the mental institution as an upgrade from his stint in prison, but soon the cuckoo’s nest begins to dull his free spiritedness. As McMurphy tests the limits of power instituted by Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) and her staff of orderlies, his acts of disobedience intensify, yielding varying responses from the other patients. Some, like the stuttering Billy Bibbit (Brad Dourif), relish McMurphy’s outlandishness, while others, like the repressed academic Dale Harding (William Redfield), question it at every turn. Stuck in the middle is the ostensibly deaf-mute Chief Bromden (Will Sampson), a tall Native American who silently observes the proceedings with one foot on each side of the opinion aisle.

This collective of unsettled men makes for a film completely dependent on the relationship between physical performance and subtle camera movement. Forman allows his actors to be consumed by their parts, giving them the temporal freedom to build their characters from the ground up—seemingly on the fly and with all the tools in their personal arsenal. But the Method performances wouldn’t be nearly as effective without Haskel Wexler’s wonderfully fluid and roving camera, a sly but giving fly-on-the-wall perspective that feels startlingly objective. These two forces of nature, the act of inhabitation and documentation, form the aesthetic bond that feeds into One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’s thematic treatise on individuality and freedom.

This dynamic works best during the buildup to and aftermath of those scenes that the film is most known for. It’s in McMurphy staring down Nurse Ratched before joyously recreating the World Series game for his baseball-deprived compatriots, and in Chief smiling proudly as he watches McMurphy run up and down the basketball court yelling obscenities. “They were working on him, just like they’re working on you,” Chief says at one point to McMurphy, warning his friend about the dangers of challenging institutional power. It’s one of many quiet moments of reflection in a film that gives voice to the angst of a generation, as well as to the timeless tension between the need for conformity and the desire for individual distinction.

Image/Sound

The 1080p high-definition transfer pays loving tribute to the beautifully sublime cinematography by Haskel Wexler and the inventive compositions Milos Forman uses during the volatile conversations in the mental ward. The white nurse’s uniforms and orderly’s suits become a key color motif throughout, blending with the musky grey of the hospital corridors to form a conformist vision. The shadow levels are perfectly balanced, especially in the nighttime sequences on the ward that depend on clarity of movement to convey character position and intent. The few exterior shots, especially the famous boat-trip sequence, are all crisp and clear, stark reminders of the dynamic outside world looking back at this closed-off section of society. Since much of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest relies heavily on layered dialogue exchanges, the Blu-ray version pays close attention to the dense mixing levels, making almost every line clear—with the exception being a few of Chief’s key lines.

Extras

This collector’s edition is anchored by an 87-minute feature entitled “Completely Cuckoo,” an extensive but dated collection of rare interviews, on-set footages, and archival clips that paints a complete picture of the film’s complicated production process. The feature spans from Kirk Douglas’s adaptation of Ken Kesey’s book for the stage to son Michael’s long gestating desire to make a film version. Many of the now-famous cast members fondly remember the unique experiences of shooting on location in the Oregon State Mental Hospital, and rare rehearsal footage makes for fascinating film history. But interviews with lead actor Jack Nicholson are noticeably absent. Aside from the theatrical trailer, the intuitive and informative commentary track by director Milos Forman, and deleted scenes, Warner Bros. accompanies the Blu-ray disc with some impressive memorabilia. Included are a 52-page bound booklet covering the film’s evolution from stage to screen, a reproduction of the original press book, a full card deck of cast-inspired playing cards, four mini-reproductions of original worldwide theatrical posters, and cast/character photo cards.

Overall

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest remains a stunning collective of method acting and 1970s social critique, even more so with this pristine and dense Blu-ray collector’s edition from Warner Bros.