The first season of
Without a Trace eluded this reviewer when it first aired -- it somehow got lost in the shuffle between other
Jerry Bruckheimer productions (not to mention
Dick Wolf productions . . .) -- and so this seven-side/four-disc set was greatly appreciated on its own terms. The entire 22-show run is here, on six of the seven sides, accessible through simple, straightforward dual-layer menus with the bonus features simple to activate (one only wishes they were as simple to de-activate), and the presentation is somewhat better than adequate -- the letterboxed (1.78-to-1) images are clean, sharp, and bright, and the sound is well-mastered, sufficiently so that one too easily hears
Anthony LaPaglia's Australian accent at various times; and the music is also well represented. But one wishes that there were more chapter-markers for each show,
The special features are a mixed bag. The audio commentary by creator
Hank Steinberg and executive producer
Ed Redlich over the first episode has some occasionally interesting information, such as the fact that the show was conceived in the wake of the Chandra Levy case. But too much of it is devoted to telling us what we're seeing on screen, and about mundane, day-to-day decision-making that would only be of interest to the most hardcore fans of the series; additionally, their commentary is mastered at much too low a volume level, requiring a serious boost to make it properly audible. Further, that episode seems to run short in terms of total running time, with no explanation. Much more interesting is the presentation of the season's final episode, "Fallout", which was originally a two-part show but which has been re-edited here to a single feature-length cut without fades for commercials or any other interruptions, and with five minutes of footage that was shot but never shown on the network telecast or the syndicated version of the show -- it's also accompanied by solo commentary by
Hank Steinberg (who also wrote the episode), which is far stronger that his work in tandem with Redlich on the pilot episode. He ranges across the thinking behind the episode's creation (it was never supposed to be a two-part show), and lavishes well-deserved praise on director
Kevin Hooks, who handled the first half of the two-part show. One wishes that he'd credited
Leonard Cohen as writer of the song "Hallelujah" (he names it as a
Jeff Buckley song, Buckley having sung this particular recording); and one wishes someone could have addressed the fact that the bookstore where most of the episode takes place has more open floor space than any functioning bookstore, operating under twenty-first century New York rents, could ever possibly offer and stay in business. The two featurettes dealing with the origins of the series and its production techniques, and its look, are also quite fascinating, and explain Bruckheimer's profound influence on the shape of the series as its executive producer. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide