Image Entertainment's release of Sidney Lumet's television production of The Iceman Cometh (1960) creaks at the joints and shows its age in ways both delightful and unfortunate -- and it's worth every cent of its price, for lovers of serious drama, theater history, or television history. Produced as part of a series called "Play of the Week" in 1960 on the New York television station WNTA, the play hums and pulses with excitement. From the opening scene between Rocky the bartender (Tom Pedi) and Larry (Myron McCormick), the whole production moves forward with a dramatic tension that's riveting. In addition to McCormick (one of the great underrated character leads in movies, who is best remembered for his role in No Time for Sergeants), the cast includes a very young and amazingly effective Robert Redford, Sorrell Booke, James Broderick (father of Matthew Broderick), Michael Strong, Roland Winters, Farrell Pelly, Maxwell Glanville, and Harrison Dowd. At 210 minutes, it's a long haul but not a dull one, just as demanding as the original play. The DVD release shows the flaws in the original video transcription, including some momentary electronic distortion in the prelude, hosted by executive producer Worthington Miner, and the digital playback runs up against the resolution limits of the original technology. Perhaps the most dated aspect of the presentation isn't in the technology, but in the need that the producers felt to "explain" the play by having Brooks Atkinson, the lead drama critic for The New York Times (and, arguably, the most influential theater critic in America), introduce it. He's rather stiff and doesn't offer much more than a few seconds of useful information, though between his two introductions (the play was broadcast in two installments), people who know nothing about Eugene O'Neill will at least learn something about him. The sound is excellent within the confines of the technology of its day, and is set at a nice high volume level. There's some perfunctory annotation about the play and the author, though it's not organized too well, and the only major on-disc supplement is a rather badly put-together filmography on Jason Robards Jr. The play is spread onto two platters, which start up almost identically and contain the same supplement on each. The chaptering is generous and the menu is easy to use.