This Is Spinal Tap appears in an aspect ratio of approximately 1.85:1 on this 4K UHD Disc. While I don't feel sure the 16mm low-budget movie needed a Dolby Vision 4K UHD treatment, at least the end result seemed satisfactory.
Overall delineation worked well. Shot on 16mm – and in some less than ideal circumstances at times – I witnessed occasional instances of softness, but these remained minor and not problematic.
The movie lacked jagged edges or shimmering, and I saw no edge haloes. Grain seemed natural – albeit heavy – and no print flaws interfered.
The movie opted for a natural palette, and these elements looked largely positive. The nature of the source meant the hues didn’t dazzle but they generally appeared appealing and got bolstered by the disc's HDR.
Blacks seemed fairly deep, and low-light shots brought appropriate clarity. HDR added punch to contrasts and whites. This turned into a solid presentation of a “lo-fi” source.
I thought the DTS-HD MA 5.1 soundtrack of Tap offered less equivocal pleasures, as it sounded great. Outside of the music, the soundfield stayed largely monaural for the most part.
Much of the audio came from the center channel with a few notable exceptions. Some broader locations - like the cocktail parties or lobbies, or when planes flew overhead - featured a light but convincing spatial quality on the sides and surrounds.
The mix really came to life is during the concert segments. The soundtrack presented some great scope to the songs, as they spread distinctly and effectively to the sides.
The surrounds also kicked in with some great ambience. For the most part, the rears offer a general reinforcement of the songs and some crowd noise, but some speaker-specific music emanated from there as well, and the whole thing came across in a lively and involving manner.
Audio quality appeared excellent, as I found the dialogue to sound surprisingly warm and natural. Considering the cheap production values of the piece, I thought speech seemed clear and smooth. Effects became a relatively minor component of the film, but they seemed clean and realistic, with no signs of distortion.
The music never sounded better. Although all of the songs were recorded in the studio, I always felt impressed by the wonderfully "live" feel they display in the film, and the effect seemed even more convincing here.
The tunes showed great clarity and dynamic range, as highs appeared clean and crisp, and the bass sounded taut and rich. The track lacked the ambition to deserve a really high grade, but I still felt impressed by it.
The disc also included the film’s original DTS-HD MA stereo mix. Unsurprisingly, it came with an even more restricted soundscape that the 5.1, as it remained essentially monaural outside of good spread for the music across the front channels.
Audio quality seemed a little less robust when compared to the 5.1 track, but it nonetheless sounded very good. I preferred the punch of the 5.1 but both worked well.
How did the 4K UHD compare to the Criterion Blu-ray version? Both came with identical audio.
As for the Dolby Vision image, it seemed a smidgen better defined but not much given the limitations of the 16mm source.
Blacks got a boost from HDR but the biggest change related to colors. Whereas the Blu-ray took on an oddly green/teal vibe at times, that didn't happen with the 4K UHD.
One assumes both BD and UHD used the same scan, so it perplexes me to see such clear differences into terms of colors. But differences there be, and this made the UHD look more natural and a better fit for the movie.
On the 4K UHD disc, we get three separate audio commentaries. The first two were recorded for a 1994 Criterion laserdisc, while the third was created for the 2009 Blu-ray.
For the initial track, we hear from writers/actors Christopher Guest, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer. All three sit together for a running, screen-specific look at the project’s origins and development, inspirations and influences, story and characters, sets and locations, cast and performances, cut scenes, music and other production details.
Guest, McKean and Shearer show fine chemistry together and mesh to make this a delightful discussion. They give us a slew of great memories related to the film as well as some humor to make sure we get a terrific chat.
Also from the 1994 LD, the second commentary includes writer/director Rob Reiner, producer Karen Murphy and editors Robert Leighton and Kent Baeda. Reiner and Murphy sit solo while Leighton and Baeda recorded their part together for this running, edited piece.
This program essentially covers the same topics as the first track. However, it comes with differing perspectives so we get some repetition between the two but not lots.
At the start, Reiner tells us that he doesn’t like the idea of a commentary because he feels it will demystify too much about the movie’s creation. Way to lower expectations, Rob!
Actually, this left me concerned Reiner would prove elusive and vague as he discussed the movie. Happily, that doesn’t become the case, as he gives us a nice array of remarks connected to the flick.
Murphy, Baeda and Leighton help add to our understanding of the shoot as well. All four combine to make this another engaging and informative track.
Taped for that 2009 BD, the final commentary involves band members Nigel Tufnel, David St. Hubbins and Derek Smalls. All three sit together to reflect on the events depicted in the film as well as their career.
When I first learned of this track, I feared the worst, as this kind of faux “performance art” can be extremely lame. There’s already too much of a "wink wink, nudge nudge" attitude that's come to surround Tap over the last 40 years.
That said, the "in-character commentary" becomes much more entertaining than I expected. Of course, it provides almost no information about the making of the movie itself, but it makes for a frequently funny look at the "reality" of the period.
The band fill in the gaps about what we didn't see in their lives, and they gripe a lot about how poorly they were treated by Di Bergi and other characters. The end product becomes clever and witty.
Everything else appears on the included Blu-ray copy, and we get a new chat between Rob Reiner and Actor/Comedian Patton Oswalt (30:16). They chat about various aspects of the film as well as its legacy and sequel.
I appreciate Oswalt’s enthusiasm and like that he clarifies the myth that Van Halen’s “no brown M&Ms” tour rider existed as “rock star excess” instead of the clever insurance policy it was. However, Oswalt doesn’t manage to evoke much new info from Reiner when it comes to the original film.
This means Reiner repeats a lot of what he said in his commentary. When he does provide some “new” details, I admit I question their accuracy since I don’t know why he didn’t produce these relevant remarks for the Criterion LD 31 years ago.
Anyway, the conversation remains perfectly pleasant. It just doesn’t prove especially useful given the prior commentary.
Under From the Cutting Room Floor, we get a massive compilation of footage cut from the final film. As discussed elsewhere, the movie’s original rough cut lasted a good four and a half hours, so that left ample unused material.
This package runs one hour, 38 minutes, 10 seconds and presents a mix of extended scenes and deleted subplots. We hear about a bunch of these during the commentaries.
Nonetheless, I love the change to see the material as well, and we find plenty of threads not discussed elsewhere. Expect a treasure trove of unused snippets.
Essentially a demo reel used to get financing, Spinal Tap: The Final Tour goes for 20 minutes, 45 seconds. It involves Reiner and the primary Tap actors as well as others who’d appear in the final film such as Bruno Kirby and Paul Benedict.
Tour captures the band on the road but lacks the narrative that became part of the feature. It also includes some of the same jokes, but most differ.
Tour also includes the same songs, though with different performances and some other alterations. For instance, the Tour version of “Heavy Duty” lacks the classical music references of the 1984 track.
As a demo, Tour does the job, and it probably would’ve been pretty funny if the feature never existed. However, the cast clearly polished their characters a lot when they shot the longer flick, as they seem like “works in progress” here.
Because they were, of course. In any case, Tour becomes a valuable addition to the package.
Spinal Tap reunited for a new video program and tour in 1992, and we saw parts of this via The Return of Spinal Tap. This segment gives us 10 minutes, two seconds of the longer project.
Most of Return featured a London concert but the material we see here shows us what David, Nigel and Derek did in the years after This Is Spinal Tap. It shows a minor fraction of the cleverness that made the original film good so don’t expect much from it. Still, it seems interesting as a curiosity, though it’s too bad the disc couldn’t include the entire program,
2009 brought another Tap reunion, and we get a look at this via Back from the Dead. Intended to promote their album of that title, this 56-minute, 26-second reel offers an interview with Guest, McKean and Shearer in character as their Tap roles.
They discuss some Tap songs and other band memories. After the decidedly blah 1992 reunion, I feared this 2009 affair would seem similarly forgettable.
Happily, “Dead” turns into a pretty amusing affair. The three actors riff together the whole time and come up with plenty of funny material, so “Dead” delivers a memorable reprise for the characters.
Promotional Materials provides a slew of odds and ends. Originally seen on the 2000 DVD, Catching Up With Marty DiBergi brings another "in character" piece that features an interview with Reiner as the documentarian. The program runs for five minutes, two seconds and intersperses statements fromDi Bergi with some film clips and a couple of shots from a then-modern Tap press conference.
It's nothing special but the piece seems entertaining in the same manner as the band audio commentary. It feels just short enough to keep from wearing out its welcome.
Thamesmen Press Conference goes for one minute, 49 seconds and shows the band at a Beatle-esque question and answer panel. It’s really another deleted scene.
It's very funny and entertaining, but would have been inappropriate in the movie. The few glimpses of earlier incarnations of Tap work in the film because they're restricted to performance clips, but this conversational snippet would have taken us out of the "reality".
A brief clip from the Joe Franklin Show (2:50) straddles the worlds of real show biz and fake. From what we see, it seems unclear if Franklin and the other guests are in on the joke. It's too brief and insubstantial to give us much but I feel happy to see it.
The disc provides a few music videos. "Gimme Some Money" (2:18) presents the entire song from the faux-1960s TV performance shown in the movie.
In a similar vein, “(Listen to the) Flower People” (3:01) offers the whole Jamboreebop version of that tune, which we also see excerpted in the film. Both are beautifully done and it's wonderful to get them in their entirety.
Another unedited movie segment appears in the form of "Big Bottom" (3:48). We get parts of the song in the film, but this piece gives us the whole tune in concert performance form.
A more formal music video appears as well via "Hell Hole" (3:12). It got the then-typical treatment for metal vids, so if you're old enough to remember the era, you'll find it clever and witty in the way it apes and mocks the conventions of the period.
The clip has no formal connection to the movie. This means it takes a conceptual air and features no film snippets, a factor that makes it more fun.
We get a fairly traditional trailer for the film's original release plus three TV spots. We find the famed "Cheese Rolling" promo” (3:38).
The latter shows Reiner working at the editing desk. He says that he can't show any clips from Tap since they're still making it, so he offers some shows from a fictional festival in Scandinavia.
It's unusual and delightful. We also find a one-minute, 35-second version that ran as a trailer. It echoes the longer promo but brings an alternate intro from Reiner and omits some of the titular rolling.
Another untraditional promotional piece arrives with Heavy Metal Memories (1:37), a clip that takes the form of an ad for one of those cheesy K-Tel compilation albums. It provides a fun way of introducing and promoting the film.
In addition to a trailer for 2025’s Spinal Tap II, the set concludes with a booklet that features, photos, promo bits, credits and an essay from journalist Alex Pappademas. It wraps up the set well.
Did the 2025 Criterion set include everything from all prior releases? No, though it comes close.
I know the 2009 BD didn’t include all the deleted footage from the 1994 Criterion LD, and since “From the Cutting Room Floor” includes about 30 minutes more material than on the earlier BD, one might assume that this means the 2025 disc packs everything from both.
However, it appears the Criterion duplicates the footage form their 1994 LD, so that leaves some material exclusive to the 2009 BD. That release also includes three early 1990s Tap ads for a pastry called “Rock and Rolls”, a 2007 Live Earth performance of “Stonehenge” and a short National Geographic interview with Nigel Tufnel.
It’s a shame that the Criterion package didn’t finally include all the deleted material from the two releases. The other clips seem meh but still would’ve been nice to see here. In any case, fans will need to keep the 2009 MGM for its exclusive extras.
Despite cultural saturation over the last 41 years, This Is Spinal Tap remains a delight. A nearly perfect comedy, it fires on all cylinders and continues to amuse and charm. The 4K UHD comes with good visuals, strong audio and a terrific array of bonus materials. The 4K UHD turns into the best home video version out there.
