American Film Theatre: The Complete 14 Film Collection

There are two schools of thought: Something is better than nothing, says school A; everything or nothing, insists school B. Hence the two possible responses to the American Film Theatre, which Ely Landau launched in 1974.

Landau sought to present major plays and musicals on screen for people who, for geographical or financial reasons, had no access to them on stage. He filmed stage productions when one was at hand, but more often proceeded from scratch, with decent screenwriters adapting lightly, and distinguished actors and directors participating for a pittance. Affordable admission was, over several weeks, by subscription in cinemas throughout the country.

Eventually 14 titles were realized to mostly mixed reviews. Some critics felt that the plays were too static for the cinema; others claimed that even a modest "opening up" betrayed and diminished works specific to the stage.

The complete boxed set of 14 has now been released by Kino International and, based on several I screened, there are unexpected problems as well as the expectable ones. For starters, some of the bonus material is in writing rather than in talking heads.

Take, first, Lost in the Stars, the Kurt Weill-Maxwell Anderson musical about apartheid, based on Alan Paton's novel Cry the Beloved Country. Much of the film was shot on location in South Africa, and it became AFT's most expensive project. The respected Brechtian Alfred Hayes wrote the screenplay, and the reputable Daniel Mann directed. Brock Peters, Melba Moore and Paul Rogers headed a worthy cast, and Alex North was musical supervisor.

Well, songs that are meant to be sung by onstage soloists and chorus, and blend into the action, do not work as voiceovers on a soundtrack. When movie realism and fast-paced, shattering drama are accompanied by song or song-and-dance numbers, things become unnatural and distracting. But even when the numbers are acted out and the story is not some Hollywood or Broadway fantasy, the gap becomes too great.

Perhaps if this were a through-composed musical not necessitating constant change of gears, it might have worked; as it is, the musical numbers are too many or too few. The well-photographed South African landscapes also tended to upstage the performers; moreover, the sound on TV emerged somewhat tinny and, at least on my disc, was totally gone for a couple of minutes. So more was lost on DVD than in the stars.

Philadelphia, Here I Come, a superb stage play by Brian Friel, was likewise impaired, although Friel himself wrote the screenplay. Because director John Quested doubtless asked for some cinematic additions, which meant some dialogue subtractions, loss was incurred.

In the cast, Des Cave was less witty than Donal Donnelly on the Broadway stage, and the wonderful Siobhan McKenna was too young and good-looking for her part. It speaks to some sloppiness in the undertaking that Des Cave, correctly identified on the DVD box, emerged as Desmond Dave in the closing credits. Sometimes the good cast's brogue was too thick for me, but probably not so for most other ears.

John Osborne's Luther comes off well enough, with a notable cast including Alan Badel, Judi Dench, Hugh Griffith and Robert Stephens among others, as well as Stacy Keach, fine in the lead. You may not be bothered by the protagonist's American accent when everyone else's is British; it made me feel that Luther rebelled not only against the Catholic Church but also against English accents. A problem here were the sibilants, which in the recording came across as hisses.

Robert Shaw's The Man in the Glass Booth was, like Luther, adapted by Edward Anhalt, and was directed by Arthur Hiller, both experienced professionals. But here again, there were noticeable departures from the play text. Maximilian Schell, almost unrecognizable as a Jewish tycoon who may have been either a concentration-camp inmate or the Nazi colonel running the camp, gives a performance about which I still cannot decide whether it is selfless fidelity to the written word or over-the-top hamming.

Though deadlines prevented me from watching them, I surmise that The Homecoming and Butley, based on the original Broadway productions, may fare better than most. (The other films include Lee Marvin and Jeff Bridges in The Iceman Cometh, Katharine Hepburn and Paul Scofield in A Delicate Balance, Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder in Rhinoceros, Glenda Jackson in The Maids, Laurence Olivier in The Three Sisters Topol and John Gielgud in Galileo, Alan Bates and Brian Cox in In Celebration and Jacques Brel in Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris.) In any case, here you are: Decide according to whether you belong to the abovementioned school A or school B.

John Simon is the New York theater critic for Bloomberg News.