The Film: 4/5

Ever since I first saw Mark Hartley’s Not Quite Hollywood – a brilliant and immersive documentary that chronicled the history of Australian exploitation cinema – in 2009, I have sought out the crazier flicks it highlighted. Thanks to Hartley, I have seen and loved the likes of Patrick, Razorback, Turkey Shoot, Road Games, Dead End Drive-In, The Man from Hong Kong, Thirst, and Stunt Rock. It made a Brian Trenchard-Smith fan for life out of me and demonstrated that Richard Franklin was the right choice to direct Psycho II.

Since I’m always in the mood for more “Ozploitation” thanks to Not Quite Hollywood, the announcement from Vinegar Syndrome that they were bringing Simon Wincer’s moody psychological thriller Snapshot (singled out in Hartley’s doc for its unorthodox use of an ice cream truck and toe-curling release history) to Blu-ray here in the U.S. (five years following a Region 1 DVD edition from Scorpion Releasing, the first to present the film in its original widescreen aspect ratio) immediately caught my interest. Was this release worth the wait? I’ll get back to you after the movie.

Okay, I’m back. Snapshot opens at the scene of a horrific fire. The authorities investigate the smoldering ruins and find only a corpse charred beyond recognition and a wall covered with nude photos of a woman. This is our hero Angela (Sigrid Thornton), a young hairdresser struggling to hold down her job and have an active job while dealing with a disapproving conservative mother. The opportunity of a lifetime falls into Angela’s lap one day when regular customer Madeline (Chantal Contouri) offers her the chance to model for brilliant but eccentric photographer Linsey (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Despite her initial misgivings, Angela embraces her fashionable new life and seems destined for greater things.

This being a production of Antony Ginnane, the land down under’s answer to B-movie legend Roger Corman, things pretty much go downhill quickly in disturbing fashion. Ginnane hired Everett De Roche, the screenwriter responsible for many Ozploitation classics including Patrick and Long Weekend among others, and his wife Chris to rewrite a script he had called Centerfold within a short timeframe as the box office success of Patrick created an insatiable appetite for lurid thrillers that the producer was determined to capitalize on before the market dried up. De Roche always knew how to pen an efficient piece of pulp, and with its multitude of unlikable potential suspects and jump scares and a welcome lack of narrative fat, Snapshot was no exception.

Anyone who goes into Snapshot expecting a sleazy hunk of cheeseball thrills will be surprised to instead find themselves watching a slow burn psychological thriller that contains a meager number of bare breasts and splashing blood but is otherwise centered on the plight of its sympathetic protagonist, well played by Sigrid Thornton. There’s enough on the page for Thornton to create a believable heroine out of Angela, and director Simon Wincer, who later directed another De Roche script for Ginnane, Harlequin (released in the U.S. as Dark Forces) before moving on to U.S. studio features like Free Willy and The Phantom and the landmark television miniseries Lonesome Dove, was better at drawing convincing performances out of his actors than most makers of disposable drive-in fare.

The rest of the cast is suitably restrained even as the story ventures from fashion world melodrama to suspenseful thriller, with Wincer and the De Roches saving the strangest twists for the busy finale. Fans of the Mad Max movies will be thankful for Hugh Keays-Byrne’s performance as the delightfully talented photographer Linsey and the sporadic appearances from Vincent Gil as Daryl, an obsessive ex-boyfriend of Angela’s who drives a Mr. Whippy ice cream truck oddly similar to the one that has been following her around town and plays an unexpected role in the film’s final moments. Chantal Contouri, the star of the Ginnane horror production Thirst (another great Aussie B-flick), offers the only other noteworthy performance in Snapshot as Madeline, the more experienced model who initiates Angela into this colorful and problematic new lifestyle and comes to be her only true friend as the rest of the people she meets either want sex or money out of her and her puritanical family ostracize her for her newest chosen vocation.

Snapshot was released in the U.S first as One More Minute and later as The Day After Halloween in October 1980. The American distributors hoped that the retitling would fool audiences into thinking that Wincer’s tense little number was yet another gory slasher flick and that’s the name it went in the States for the next three decades. Had it been given a fair chance under its original title with a marketing campaign that didn’t sell the film as something it clearly never was, Snapshot might have built a larger cult following with lovers of offbeat films from around the world with its fine performances, snappy writing, intimidating Panavision cinematography from Vincent Monton (Long Weekend, Road Games), and a score from Australian cinema’s best composter Brian May (The Road Warrior) that blends haunting piano work with pulsating synth tunes to create a disorienting effect perfectly in tune with the film it was created to accompany.

Audio/Video: 4/5

For the Region A Blu-ray premiere of Snapshot, the good folks at Vinegar Syndrome presents the film in a newly restored 1080p high-definition transfer sourced from a recent 2k resolution scan of the original 35mm camera negative. According to an opening disclaimer from V.S., the version found on the negative is not the original cut first released in Australia, but the shorter, 93-minute international cut distributed in every other territory around the world. “For reasons unknown”, states the disclaimer, “the original negative was recut to conform to this version. This is the only version of Snapshot believed to survive on film.” At the end of the disclaimer, it is stated that the Australian cut was included here as a bonus feature since the company managed to locate a video source in time for this release. I’ll discuss that version in the “Extras” section of this review.

The 2012 Scorpion Releasing DVD was the first to present Snapshot in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, but Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray transfer surpasses it in every possible way. Colors are stronger (especially with the reds and blues), details are sharper and realistic, and skin tones achieve an authentic hue. Grain is minimal and consistent in the name of preserving the film’s natural texture and print damage is nowhere to be found. The English DTS-HD Master Audio 1.0 mono reproduces the original theatrical sound mix with clarity and a solid presentation of dialogue and music without creating overlap of distortion. The track really does its job during the intense finale. English subtitles have also been provided.

Extras: 4/5

Wincer, Ginnane, Thornton, and Monton reunite for a recently recorded group audio commentary with a moderator who never identifies himself (but is referred to as Mark, so it could be Mark Hartley for all we know) helping to keep the conversation going when needed. Overall this is an excellent chat track with plenty of fun stories and interesting production trivia that fans of Snapshot and Australian filmmaking in general will appreciate.

Ginnane is also on hand for “Producing Snapshot” (28 minutes), an interview featurette that finds the veteran producer discussing the making of Snapshot, sharing highlights from his famous career in the cinema and thoughts on the state of the Australian film scene, and much more. In addition, extended interviews from Not Quite Hollywood about Snapshot (36 minutes) have been included here and feature Thornton, Ginnane, Wincer, Monton, Everett De Roche, assistant director Tom Burstall, and actress Lynda Stoner (who was originally approached to star in the film but balked at the producer’s demands for her to go nude onscreen).

The aforementioned original Australian cut (100 minutes) was transferred from a rough video source in 480i resolution and is presented in a different aspect ratio than intended. The extra material not included in the international cut is mostly unnecessary dialogue scenes that neither add or detract from the narrative, but the inclusion of this version is appreciated for the sake of completion. Finally, we have a gallery of behind-the-scenes and promotional stills and two Australian television spots. No trailers for the Australian or American releases are provided for us, and if you own the Scorpion DVD you might want to hang on to it as it contains a different audio commentary with Ginnane and an alternate opening sequence with the U.S. release title The Day After Halloween slapped on at the start.

The set also comes with reversible cover art and a bonus Region 1 DVD copy, both emblazoned with the Day After Halloween promotional image.

Overall: 4/5

Far from being the sleazy horror flick it was marketed as in the U.S., Simon Wincer’s Snapshot is a moody and skillfully paced psycho-thriller that is deserving of a viewing for fans of Australian genre fare. Vinegar Syndrome has once again delivered an outstanding Blu-ray presentation of a long-overlooked cult film with exquisite picture and sound and a healthy array of informative bonus features including the much sought-after original Australian cut. This edition comes highly recommended.