Edgar G. Ulmer's Carnegie Hall was once fairly easily seen on television, but had pretty well vanished from major markets by the 1970s. Parts of it turned up in the anniversary documentary film done about Carnegie Hall at the end of the 1980s, but otherwise it was unseen for decades. Indeed, this reviewer ran into the widow of one of the movie's two producers on a city bus around that time, whose first question was whether he knew of any possible videotape source for the movie. This DVD is just about the finest presentation the movie has had since the end of the 1940s, when it was new, and it looks and sounds about 90 times better than the print that was shown at a 1998 Edgar Ulmer retrospective in New York. With sharp detail and rich, deep contrasts, this disc is a delight to watch and just about as satisfying to hear. When the Tchaikovsky "Piano Concerto" opens 15 minutes into the movie, the audio track captures the music in about as fine a fashion as any feature film of the era. This is the best-looking Ulmer DVD title as of the summer of 2001, which is particularly pleasurable because, along with The Black Cat and perhaps The Strange Woman, Carnegie Hall is the most opulent film the director ever made. There are no signs of the limited budgets and threadbare, minimalist sets that usually characterized Ulmer's movies. Instead, he has real sets to work with and a cast that, if not quite entirely made of stars, at least had lots of experience in major movies, and he is able to take his time and let his camera linger in telling this story. And though the story itself -- all about a woman's struggle to raise her son as a musician after the death of her pianist husband -- probably even seemed hokey in 1947, there's enough musical interest to be found in the dozen performance sequences in Carnegie Hall to just about sustain its 136-minute running time. Ulmer's approach to the performance sequences is riveting, as he moves fluidly and gracefully between shots encompassing the overall orchestra, to those that isolate certain sections and internal musical lines, making extremely effective use of shadow in the process. Indeed, the performance sequences are so elegant and seemingly effortless in their sweep, power, and intimacy, that they overwhelm the supposed "dramatic" scenes. The plot, such as it is, is a rather silly (though potentially interesting) framing story that runs from May of 1891 to the swing era, offering some very interesting players, including Frank McHugh (in one of the largest parts of his career), Marsha Hunt (who was subsequently blacklisted), Martha O'Driscoll, and William Prince. The real "star" of the movie, as the title implies and Ulmer's most inspired work makes clear, is Carnegie Hall and the artists associated with it, and Kino has done a great job of presenting them. The 136-minute movie is divided into 19 chapters, all keyed to the presence of certain music or to a performance clip proper. The supplements include the re-release trailer for the movie and a visual walk through a printed guide intended for teachers, which was generated in association with the movie's original 1947 release. But Kino has extended the support materials in dramatic fashion -- they've reached back to Ulmer's most famous film of all, Detour, made a year or so prior to Carnegie Hall, and excerpted two scenes depicting protagonist Al Roberts' pianism, the second one involving Brahms' "Waltz in A Flat" (a piece also used in striking fashion in Val Lewton's thriller The Seventh Victim), which shows a similarly inventive method of delineating the relationship of a performer to music).