NOTE: The below Blu-ray captures were taken directly from the Blu-ray disc.

ADDITION: Kino Blu-ray (June 2025): Kino has transferred Roviros Manthoulis's The Blues Under the Skin to Blu-ray. The 1080P video transfer authentically exports the film’s stark imagery (capturing smoky juke joints, rural Delta landscapes, and urban Harlem streets) is sharp and detailed with improved clarity over past prints. Fine textures (such as the grain of wooden floors or the sweat on Buddy Guy’s face during performances) are rendered vividly, while the restoration preserves the film’s natural grain structure, maintaining its documentary-like authenticity. Minor imperfections (such as occasional scratches) remain but do not detract from the experience, making this transfer a definitive showcase of the film’s raw, evocative aesthetic. It is on a dual-layered disc with a maxed out bitrate.

NOTE: We have added 40 more large resolution Blu-ray captures (in lossless PNG format) for DVDBeaver Patrons HERE.

On their Blu-ray, Kino uses a DTS-HD Master 2.0 channel track (24-bit) in the English language. The sound captures the unpolished energy of artists (such as B.B. King and Roosevelt Sykes) with clear vocals, resonant guitar twangs, and the ambient hum of nightclub crowds, immersing viewers in the venues. Dialogue in interviews and the fictional narrative is crisp, though the scripted scenes occasionally sound stilted compared to the musicians’ natural cadence. The restoration minimizes background noise while retaining the raw acoustic texture, ensuring that the blues’ emotional weight (whether in a harmonica wail or a piano riff) remains front and center. Kino offers optional English subtitles on their Region 'A' Blu-ray.

The Kino Blu-ray offers a new commentary by one of our favorites, Daniel Kremer (Sidney J. Furie: Life and Films,) who is a big fan of the film. It is a meticulously researched and engaging track that elevates the disc’s scholarly value. Kremer (known for his excellent commentaries) offers a deep dive into the film’s cultural and historical significance, exploring its hybrid documentary-fiction structure and its portrayal of the blues as a sociopolitical expression rooted in the African American experience. He contextualizes director Roviros Manthoulis’s outsider perspective as a Greek filmmaker (drawing parallels to other cross-cultural music documentaries) and provides biographical details on the featured musicians, such as B.B. King’s rise from sharecropping to stardom or Willie Dixon’s influence as a songwriter. Kremer also analyzes the film’s place within the 1970s blues revival, its influence on later music documentaries, and its rediscovery in 2024, making the commentary essential for both blues enthusiasts and film scholars. Additionally, a 1/2-hour interview with Manthoulis (French with English subtitles) is interesting, offering firsthand insights into his creative process, his fascination with the blues as a universal language, and the logistical challenges of filming in the American South as a foreign director. The deleted scenes (10 minutes in total) is a highlight, featuring previously unreleased performances by Big Boy Crudup (whose raw acoustic set showcases his Delta roots) and Willie Dixon (whose commanding presence and bass-driven blues add a Chicago flavor.) These clips (restored with the same care as the main feature) are invaluable for fans and historians, preserving rare footage of these legends. Lastly, there is an original trailer and 2024 re-release trailer.

Roviros Manthoulis's The Blues Under the Skin is a meditation on the blues as a form of truth-telling, both personal and collective. The film posits that the blues is not merely a musical genre but a cultural archive, preserving the experiences of African Americans in the face of slavery, segregation, and systemic inequality. Manthoulis (a Greek filmmaker working for French television) approaches the subject with an outsider’s curiosity and reverence, traveling through the Mississippi Delta and New Orleans to document a musical tradition at risk of fading in the 1970s. His objective (as stated in multiple sources) was to “penetrate the surface of the blues and explore the emotional and sociopolitical factors that make it such an expressive and haunting musical form.” Interviews with figures (such as B.B. King and Roosevelt Sykes) reveal the personal and historical contexts behind their music from tales of lost loves to reflections on the legacy of slavery and segregation. The strengths of Blues Under the Skin lie in its authenticity, its stellar lineup of musicians, and its ambitious attempt to capture the blues as both music and cultural phenomenon. The 2K restoration by Kino Lorber on Blu-ray has revitalized the film’s visual and auditory quality, making it accessible to new audiences. The film’s willingness to experiment with form (blending fiction and documentary) sets it apart from more conventional music documentaries of the era. Its thematic depth (particularly its exploration of the blues as a form of truth) resonates with contemporary discussions about the role of music in social justice movements. It is recommended to those who cherish the genre’s raw emotional power and its cultural significance, cementing the film’s place as a vital document of a vanishing musical tradition.

Gary Tooze