Barbra Streisand’s movie debut takes a slot in the Criterion Collection, and jumps to 4K Ultra HD. Opened up from Broadway and slimmed down to focus on its incandescent star, it persists as a superior musical, alternately funny and touching. Streisand showed can’t-lose intuition when it came to the big decisions: knowing that her emotional singing style would be flattened by lip-sync to a pre-recorded track, the finale partly records a direct performance. Barbra came across as The Real Deal, up close and personal; audiences continue to be riveted by her.

Funny Girl 4K
4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray
The Criterion Collection 1240
1968 / Color / 2:35 widescreen / 155 151 min. / available through The Criterion Collection / Street Date November 19, 2024 / 49.95
Starring: Barbra Streisand, Omar Sharif, Kay Medford, Anne Francis, Walter Pidgeon, Lee Allen, Mae Questel, Gerald Mohr, Frank Faylen, Lloyd Gough, Tommy Rall.
Cinematography: Harry Stradling
Production Designer: Gene Callahan
Art Director: Robert Luthardt
Film Editors: Robert E. Swink, William Sands, Maury Winetrobe
Costume Design: Irene Sharaff
Music supervised and conducted by Walter Scharf
Songs and score: Music by Jule Styne Lyrics by Bob Merrill
Screenplay by Isobel Lennart from her musical libretto 
Musical numbers staged and directed by Herbert Ross
Produced by Ray Stark
Directed by William Wyler

It is indeed a real treat to look back at film, photos and early TV kinescopes of Barbra Streisand’s early appearances on TV talk shows. In the history of American celebrity, nobody looked as ready, ‘right out of the box,’ to wow audiences and achieve great things. She sang like a lark, but she also talked like the fun girl in high school, the one who was sassy but also smart. If she monopolized a conversation, it only seemed natural.

Streisand’s early career gained traction in everything she attempted. She attracted attention with every new challenge, always in the very first attempt. Her greatest movie performance is still her screen debut in this slick musical biography, that tailors the story of the legendary comedienne-singer Fanny Brice to the needs of Ms. Streisand’s special talents. The immensely popular  Funny Girl won its young star a Best Actress Oscar. At the ceremony, actress Ingrid Bergman opened the fateful envelope and announced that the win was a tie — between Barbra Streisand and Katharine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter.

This rags-to-riches musical bio is special in that the star-to-be must fight an uphill battle against people that underestimate her appeal — she’s not a standard beauty. Fanny Brice (Barbra Streisand) is just a clownish kid from Henry Street until she breaks into a vaudeville show run by Keeney (Frank Faylen). Almost immediately she’s asked to join Ziegfeld’s Follies, where she loses no time challenging the big boss Florenz Ziegfeld himself (Walter Pidgeon): he wants to make her into a showgirl, but she knows she’s really a comedienne who can sing. Performing success is complicated by the romantic attentions of high-rolling gambler Nicky Arnstein (Omar Sharif), who dotes on Fanny yet frustrates her by asking her out only when they bump into each other at railway stations … until he invites her to supper in a private room, with a bed.

Pauline Kael used her review of Funny Girl to point out Streisand’s precocity as a comedienne, rattling off all those complicated lines with such good timing . . . as if the actress hadn’t had years of play performances to learn, alter and hone her comedy delivery. Streisand is a great Funny Girl and the smartly assembled movie delivers something entertaining in every scene. William Wyler wielded plenty of authority, but even he could see the writing on the wall: Barbra Streisand resisted letting others make the big decisions for her.

Directors thrive on talent, and wise ones know when to stay out of the way. By 1968 Streisand had already stolen the spotlight in a major Broadway hit, and had experience producing her own TV specials. Wyler made sure that nothing prevented the full expression of Streisand’s singing voice on the screen. For the final “My Man” number, he allowed a retake in which she sang part of the song live, instead of to playback. Her costume and hair no longer has traces of Fanny Brice. It’s just a shot of a chanteuse belting out a tune in medium close-up, but it electrified audiences. It’s one of the best singing performances ever in a film.

Producer Ray Stark was the son-in-law of Fanny Brice, and tried for years to launch a straight film biography. As interpreted by Streisand, Brice is an all-conquering heroine slowed down only by complications in her love life. By intermission time she’s well on the way to total success; the remainder of the story is mainly a string of home life disappointments.

Most of the storyline plays in flashback. A brief prologue establishes three things about the Brice-Barbra on view. Looking in a mirror, Fanny addresses herself with an ironic, “Hello gorgeous.”  It’s funny, but it also emphasizes that Fanny’s focus is on herself. Confronted with an empty auditorium, she pretends she’s shooting an invisible audience with an invisible machine gun. Is the audience just a faceless enemy to Fanny?  While sitting alone in the orchestra seats, she marvels at the fact that Flo Ziegfeld will wait patiently in her dressing room, for as long as she wants him to wait. This is the way Brice likes things. None of it aligns with the philosopy of her later smash song: “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.”  Fanny Brice desperately needs Nicky Arnstein, and it’s a problem that makes her miserable.

Streisand never had difficulty being pushy … defined as assertive, spirited and sassy. Her Fanny is definitely a piece of work, a driven talent who knows instinctively how to elbow herself into the spotlight. Her calculated cutes allow her to pull shenanigans that would get any other showgirl strung up by her own garters, talent or no talent. Fanny pretends that she can’t rollerskate, a slick trick that allows her to make herself the comic highlight of what’s supposed to be a chorus number. Time and again she seizes the day, which basically means taking it away from somebody else. Everything’s about Fanny, always.

Yet Streisand transcends such concerns, redeeming her image with sheer star power. Fanny’s infectious charm and Little Jewish Pixie schtick wins the day. She is adorable. Her line deliveries are inspired. She’s not adverse to broader slapstick, like crossing her eyes. Only once or twice does she imitate a Fanny Brice delivery. Barbra makes the role her own.

We wonder to what degree Streisand may have influenced the look of Funny Girl. The designs flatter Ms. Streisand first and reflect the period setting second. The costumes and hairstyles suggest the 1920s, yet are suitable for a contemporary Streisand photo shoot. In scenes with the showgirls she stands out by not wearing colorful clothes; the nighttime Henry Street setting for the song People is designed almost in a drab monochrome. Yet most of the film is lit high key and uses a clean, simple graphic style.

Of course it’s a star vehicle.

The movie is not an ensemble piece. The Broadway show has been laid out like a flower arrangement with Streisand in dead center, with other characters entering only when really necessary. Smooth and smiling, the dark-eyed Omar Sharif becomes male arm candy, someone for Fanny to swoon over without deflecting audience attention. Sharif actually keeps his end up quite well, despite his subdued reactions. Nick Arnstein is supposed to be a cool customer, a real smoothie, and he fulfills his mission. We even feel for him in the film’s second half, when people begin to think of him as ‘Mr. Brice’ and his self-image begins to erode.

The first half of the film of course works best, with its audience-pleasing rise-to-fame and courtship scenes. We are never quite prepared to accept this pair as doomed lovers. The second half skips rapidly through parenthood, marital problems and Arnstein’s prison term, in its hurry to get to the end number. Then Streisand’s “My Man” nullifies potential complaints. The ‘life performance’ trick really works, breaking the fourth wall and transporting the movie audience. It is barely four minutes long. The filmmakers know to end things right there; few musicals leave the audience feeling so thoroughly entertained.

The unrelieved focus on Streisand reduces much of the good supporting cast to glorified spear carriers. Walter Pidgeon’s Florenz Ziegfeld manages a dignified exasperation. The next strongest impression comes from the beautiful Anne Francis as Brice’s showgirl buddy Georgia James. Francis hints at some interesting personality traits but the part seems to have been trimmed almost out of existence. Was Francis too pretty?  Too interesting?  In the final cut she mainly holds telephones and registers surprise at Fanny’s erratic behavior. Francis and Pidgeon had of course played father and daughter ten years previously, in  Forbidden Planet.

Direct from Broadway, Kay Medford is solid but underused as Brice’s mom Rose. Special note must be made of Mae Questel, simply for her voice. She was the vocal talent for many of Max Fleischer’s original  Betty Boop cartoons, and followed up that assignment by performing Olive Oyl’s voice as well.

The Florenz Ziegfeld showgirl pageant choreographed by Herbert Ross provides the film’s main bit of non-Barbara glamour — even if Fanny undercuts it with comic schtick. With its swooning music opening, the “Beautiful Reflection” song opens on a glittering staircase of bejewelled women, reflecting the Follies’ worship of a certain kind of idealized glamour. For another sequence an entire ballet company performs a comic version of Swan Lake, with Tommy Rall dancing opposite Barbra. This is no quickie effort, as with the silly ballet in Columbia’s 1963 Bye Bye Birdie. A very good natural dancer, Barbra mimes some impressive ballet moves. For some reason, the slapstick sketch was cut short. A B&W original version still exists.

In the movie’s second half the comedy gives ground to soapdish drama. As soon as Brice is installed in that mansion her wardrobe begins to morph as well, losing the hints of period atmosphere. Yet Streisand carries every scene. That’s not an empty observation considering how poorly received were most of the musicals made between  The Sound of Music (’65) and  Cabaret (’72) — some are difficult to sit through.

Funny Girl is ‘opened up,’ but in a selective way. Its most satisfying musical construction is Fanny’s race to catch an ocean liner in New York harbor, a sequence that enlarges the show-stopper “Don’t Rain on My Parade” to epic dimensions. The number is nigh-on perfect, right down to the timing in the spectacular helicopter shot over New York harbor. A new movie could fake everything with CGI work, and have no more impact than an animated cartoon. Here we can see that Barbara thought enough of her film to go to the trouble of clutching a handrail on a tugboat churning through the cold water … it’s not faked.

Director William Wyler delegated this special material to Herbert Ross, who did the dance numbers and later graduated to directing the so-so sequel, Funny Lady.  Streisand apparently liked that tugboat image a lot, because she adapted it for the conclusion of her directorial debut Yentl.

Funny Girl is such a delight that it’s a shame that Ms. Streisand rushed into a string of big musicals that didn’t stretch her abilities. She fought with her director Gene Kelly on Hello, Dolly!; he seemed to be trying to remake Meet Me in St.Louis. Streisand was not the best fit for Dolly Levi, nor most of the songs laid out for her. Vincente Minnelli’s creative juices were at low ebb for the freeze-dried psychedelics of On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, with its weak former-life flashbacks and even weaker leading man. At least the movie’s title song gave Barbra an enduring signature tune.

The Criterion Collection’s 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray of Funny Girl is a 4K Ultra HD digital restoration, with 5-channel DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack. The 4K disc is backed up by a Blu-ray disc, which carries the main extras.

Criterion’s extras offer good value. Although Ms. Streisand doesn’t appear in person, she contributes a new audio piece that is made into a visual essay. It’s a solid 40-minute talk, and not at all fluff. She explains the full genesis of Funny Girl with great clarity. Before it went to Broadway, it was first conceived as a film biography. Streisand really gets into the work of William Wyler and Herbert Ross, Irene Sharaff and several others. Her admiration of Wyler feels genuine.

Also new to the disc is an interview with the director’s son, David Wyler, a conversational piece with the TCM host Alicia Malone. Wyler visited the set of his father’s film when he was a teenager.

Included too are the standard Columbia featurettes that accompanied the original release, Barbra in Hollywood and The Look of Funny Girl, still in degraded quality. The graphic collage promo This Is Streisand has better color. It will impress on viewers what a big deal Barbra was back in the day. It seemed that every high school girl I met had her records. Their mothers had her records.

The deleted scene between Fanny and Nick is present, plus an Omar Sharif interview from 2003.

A solid extra is Directed by William Wyler from 1986. The producer is his daughter Catherine, from marathon interview sessions filmed not long before the director’s death. The very first video bite is from Barbra Streisand. Even John Huston expresses wonder at Wyler’s talent.

Before you toss Sony’s 2013 Blu-ray, be reminded that it has 5 language options and at least a dozen different subtitle tracks: “Hola, hermosa!”

We know Michael Koresky’s liner notes well from Criterion’s long-running Eclipse DVD series. He covers the career of William Wyler before describing what became a collaboration with his most hands-on leading lady. The disc cover is based on an original theatrical poster, which was probably a wise choice for Criterion’s disc producer — all aspects of the release surely needed sign-offs from Streisand herself.

On several occasions between 2005 and 2016 I worked editorial projects for Barbra Streisand’s producer. One thing learned in that time is that Fanny Brice’s signature song  “My Man” was originally a French tune, from 1920. I was also surprised to learn that the star purposely avoided standard torch songs like  “My Man”, with wronged women moaning after lost lovers, etc.. Unwilling to play the victim even in song, Streisand went the other way entirely, toward empowerment. She covers songs about sad memories, but few of outright despair.

Reviewed by Glenn Erickson

Funny Girl 4K
4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray rates:
Movie: Excellent
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
New supplements:
Audio interview with Barbra Streisand
Discussion between David Wyler and Alicia Malone
Older supplements:
Career documentary Directed by William Wyler (1986)
Interview with actor Omar Sharif
Deleted scene featuring Streisand and Sharif
Original press kit featurettes
Insert foldout with an essay by Michael Koresky.
Deaf and Hearing-impaired Friendly? YES; Subtitles: English (feature only)
Packaging: One Blu-ray in Keep case
Reviewed: November 19, 2024
(7230funn)

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