Outstanding Director's Cuts That Surpass the Original Theatrical Releases

      Simon Thompson examines ten exceptional director’s cuts that surpass the original theatrical releases.

      Director’s cuts are indeed a peculiar phenomenon. While some significantly enhance or rectify the flaws of the initial film, others often dilute a strong movie, such as the notorious Apocalypse Now Redux, which seems to merely offer an extended deleted scenes reel.

      However, the ten films featured in this list are prime examples of director’s cuts that represent the superior versions of their creators’ visions, often regarded by both fans and critics as the definitive take on the film.

      Brazil (1985)

      Terry Gilliam stands out as one of American cinema's greatest iconoclasts, an astute and unwavering auteur who has consistently battled against studio executives and financiers to realize his artistic vision.

      A notable instance of this struggle occurred during the production of his darkly comedic Orwellian science fiction landmark, Brazil. Despite the film's portrayal of bureaucratic and authoritarian despondency, complete with a consistently bleak ending akin to 1984, Universal executive Sid Sheinberg covertly produced a truncated 94-minute version from the original 142-minute print, featuring an artificially optimistic conclusion to enhance commercial appeal.

      Fans have labeled this version as "The Love Conquers All" cut, and it has rightfully earned a reputation among cinephiles as a gross distortion of Gilliam’s intention. Following negotiations with Sheinberg, Gilliam released a 132-minute cut that more closely aligned with his vision for the American audience. While that was a respectable compromise, the true essence of Brazil is captured in the full 142-minute director’s cut, where Gilliam’s Kafkaesque vision is fully articulated in all its intended grotesqueness.

      Blade Runner (1982)

      Blade Runner is a film that has faced more alterations than David Bowie. As one of the most impactful science fiction films ever produced, it represents a harmonious blend of Ridley Scott’s direction, Vangelis’s score, Douglas Trumbull’s enduring special effects, and the script by Hampton Fancher and David Peoples, alongside Syd Mead’s production design, heavily influenced by Moebius's work.

      Set in a dystopian future, this cynical noir narrative felt markedly out of place in the newly commercialized Hollywood during the post-Star Wars period, which leaned towards more family-friendly themes. Consequently, producers at The Ladd Company mandated a re-editing of the film, tacking on a happy ending that reused stock footage from The Shining, inserting a voiceover to simplify the plot and themes for the audience, and eliminating any ambiguity regarding protagonist Rick Deckard's potential status as a replicant, leading to its financial failure, recouping only $41 million against a budget exceeding $30 million, with critics also unimpressed.

      Nevertheless, the film's lasting aesthetic and the slivers of cynicism in the original cut helped Blade Runner amass a significant cult following, influencing both literature such as William Gibson’s The Neuromancer and a resurgence of Japanese sci-fi in works like Akira and Ghost In the Shell.

      In 1992, Ridley Scott regained the rights to release his director’s cut, restoring the original ending and Deckard's ambiguous humanity, which was well received at testing screenings. This director's cut, released on VHS, garnered widespread critical acclaim and renewed audience appreciation.

      Thanks to the initial VHS release and the subsequent 2007 final cut on special edition DVD, Blade Runner is now correctly celebrated as an essential piece of the sci-fi genre, earning preservation by the American Library of Congress.

      Once Upon a Time In America (1984)

      Sergio Leone’s final grand film, the sweeping crime tragedy Once Upon a Time in America, is a uniquely brutal yet emotionally satisfying experience, and as my all-time favorite film across any genre, I may be somewhat biased.

      This sprawling gangster saga, reminiscent of The Godfather (a project Leone turned down during long pre-production), follows two gangsters from the Prohibition era, played by Robert De Niro and James Woods, over approximately thirty years, with De Niro’s character returning to New York City in the present (the 1960s) to confront his past. He is haunted by flashbacks of his impoverished childhood and violent actions as an adult.

      Originally showcased at the Cannes Film Festival in 1984 with a runtime of six hours, European distributors negotiated with Leone to produce a four-hour version that received acclaim from audiences and critics alike.

      In stark contrast, Leone's experience with his American distributor Warner Bros. was far less favorable, as they arbitrarily reduced the film to two hours and twenty minutes, told the story in chronological order, disregarding the effective use of flashbacks and, regrettably, failed to mix in Ennio Morricone’s incredible score, dulling the emotional weight of several scenes.

      This abomination was what mainstream American audiences encountered, while the four