I'm torn about Stuart Rosenberg's Brubaker. On the one hand, it's a dated and obvious study of the penal system that trots out such timeworn prison stereotypes as homosexual rape, abuse of authority, guard heavies, whippings, bribery, racism, slave labor, and even maggots in the slop. It's the stuff of a hundred prison movies, and here it's taken so seriously, with such dour conviction, as to be absurd. On the other hand, the film boasts some outstanding performances, not least of which is that of Robert Redford, who burns with quiet intensity in his role as the title character.

You wouldn't guess it from the film's first twenty minutes, but Henry Brubaker is the new warden of Wakefield State Penitentiary. He enters the prison in disguise, as a prisoner, witnessing firsthand the atrocities committed by both the staff and fellow prisoners (acting as "trustees" of the warden). For years, the penitentiary has been operating as a cesspool of human behavior, home to murder and torture and inhumanity. The place is ripe for reform, and Brubaker is just the man for the job. After an unlikely sequence in which Brubaker the prisoner reveals his true identity and ousts the corrupt existing warden, the new warden gets straight to business, radically altering every old custom he gets his hands on. His changes are met with disapproval and even death threats from all parties—the trustees, the good-old-boy community, his superiors, and even the convicts—but of course we know in our heart that he's in the right. Things get even more testy when Brubaker discovers a mass grave on the prison property.

But by then it's abundantly clear what Brubaker's intentions are. And I suppose you can see that a film so obvious in its imagery might have provoked audiences in 1980, and if it achieved some measure of social reform back then, well, that's fantastic. But if you view Brubaker today, you'll find that the film has lost nearly all of that power. Instead, view Brubaker as a showcase for its solid acting—from Redford to a powerful Yaphet Kotto (as the trustee Coombes) to a frightening Morgan Freeman (as a death-row psycho) to a typically sleazy M. Emmet Walsh as a local good ol' boy.

Fox presents Brubaker in a surprisingly effective anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 1.85:1 theatrical presentation. At first, I thought I was in for a muddy, indistinct effort, because the opening scenes are dark and offer poor shadow detail, with pronounced grain and dirt. But as the film opens into brightness, it actually begins to impress.

As long as you remember that this is a 23-year-old film, you'll be very happy with the level of sharpness and detail here. Sure, the drab color palette sometimes seems a bit too murky (and perhaps a bit too much pink injected into faces to compensate) and there's a general aged appearance. But this is a solid transfer with almost no compression artifacts, no edge halos, and no complaints from me.

Unfortunately, the Dolby Digital 2.0 mix isn't nearly as impressive as the image. The soundfield is anchored at the center of your screen, and, depressingly, the dialog and most other sound has lost a lot of fidelity, coming across as hollow, warbly, brittle, and tinny. The score sounds as if it was recorded on an amateur tape deck with flawed tape. Too bad.

You get the film's Theatrical Trailer, in pretty good but dirty 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, and you get three TV Spots. You also get trailers for the Fox Flix Bulworth, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, High Crimes, The Hot Rock, Men of Honor, and Norma Rae.

Brubaker is worth a rental for its central performances, but its prison message is stale. The video presentation is above average, particularly for this era, but the lack of supplements relegates this one to your rental list.