“Same shit, different menu screen,” he muttered, sipping espresso at his kitchen table, surrounded by laserdiscs, Blu-rays, and three different Japanese imports of Casino .
Jimmy stood up slowly. He walked to his bookshelf and pulled down the holy grail: the 2007 Warner Bros. Blu-ray. The real one. The one with the warm color timing and the living, breathing grain. Goodfellas Dvdbeaver
“What do you want?” Gary whispered.
The Beaver shifted in his seat. “Jimmy, the studio wanted it clean. Focus groups said grain looks ‘old.’” “Same shit, different menu screen,” he muttered, sipping
“I’m gonna post this,” Jimmy said. “And then I’m gonna post the email where you told the studio that ‘consumers prefer plastic skin.’ And after that, Gary? You’re gonna be the most hated man in the home-theater forums. They’re gonna find out where you live. They’re gonna send you screenshots of bad compression artifacts every day for the rest of your life. You understand? You’re gonna be made . Made into a meme.” Blu-ray
That’s when Frankie “The Scanner” Carbone walked in. Frankie was Jimmy’s protégé, a kid who could spot a missing chroma channel from fifty paces.