Condemnation and Censorship
How, indeed. In adapting Vladimir Nabokov's notorious literary masterpiece for a major studio, Kubrick risked an unprecedented possibility: condemnation from both the Roman Catholic Legion of Decency and the movie industry's own self-censorship Production Code. Since Kubrick's 1962 picture, we've seen films dealing with underage sex (Taxi Driver and Pretty Baby, for example) and have barely batted an eye. But this particular story, because it deals so poignantly with a middle-aged man's obsession with a young girl — or "nymphet," as Nabokov called Lolita — still provokes controversy. It's such a touchy subject that just four years ago, Adrian Lyne's remarkable remake (with Jeremy Irons as Humbert) failed to get an American theatrical release.

Watching Lolita again, one marvels at Kubrick's slyness, subtlety, defiance, and ambition. The film's dark comedy of manners reflects a more puritanical time, but offers a fascinating context for looking at our own. Since Lolita, we've endured Britney Spears and Anna Kournikova (who, incidentally, declares "I AM Lolita!" in a recent issue of GQ). If Nabokov's Lolita were alive today, she'd be a multi-millionaire.

Fine Performances, First-Rate Cast
In addition to its enduring cultural interest, Lolita continues to thrive on astonishingly fine performances from a first-rate cast. There's James Mason's heartbreaking and complex Professor Humbert, and Sue Lyon's precociously sexy but emotionally immature Lolita. As her hilariously pretentious mother, Charlotte, Shelley Winters conveys a pathetically desperate and off-putting controlling nature. Love deranges her as much as it does Humbert. Then there's Peter Sellers, who improvised many of his lines for Kubrick, as the mysterious doppelganger, Clare Quilty. Quilty (rhymes with "guilty") turns up in several guises, one of them a school psychologist, Dr. Zempf, who prefigures the great "Dr. Strangelove."

Although Kubrick couldn't fully dramatize Humbert's erotic attraction to Lolita, it's fun watching how suggestive he makes a simple image of her sipping a Coke or taking off a shoe. But Kubrick hit another wall with actress Winters (whose later tell-all autobiography would detail dozens of affairs). She refused to show a modest bit of her naked upper back in a key bedroom scene with Mason. With Lolita's picture resting on one end table, and a gun on the other, Winters attempts to make love to Humbert while chastely wrapped in her robe. In a way, it's an apt metaphor for the straitjacket Kubrick was forced to wear throughout the process of making Lolita. Even at the Hollywood premiere, Kubrick couldn't get 16-year-old Sue Lyon in the door. The film was rated X.

New and Improved DVD
The enhanced quality of the new DVD adds immeasurably to its many pleasures. Kubrick's eye was second to none (he began his career as a photographer), and so was his ear for music and dialogue. Compared to the scratched and speckled 1999 release, this new version features a near-immaculate print. Moreover, the restored picture-contrast delivers a richer image texture and greater clarity. Frame for frame, the detailed production design and actor's faces look terrific.

Further, the new Dolby Digital soundtrack offers a better balance than on the earlier version. In the "summer dance" sequence, for instance, the actor's voices no longer compete with Nelson Riddle's ironically banal score. The minimally matted picture is standard widescreen (1.66:1). One caveat about extras: aside from the theatrical trailer, this is a very skimpy disc. There are no "production notes" to speak of, even though they're advertised on the box. Instead, there's merely a card listing two awards: a "Best Promising Newcomer" Golden Globe for Sue Lyon (a tie — with whom, we're not told), and a Best Adapted Screenplay Academy Award nomination for Nabokov, who, by the way, mostly liked Kubrick's film version, even though the director used only 20 percent of his script.