“Big bada boom.”
There’s this moment early on—Korben Dallas slumped in his cramped apartment, cigarette filter glowing blue, the city outside stacked like a cosmic junk drawer—that tells you everything about The Fifth Element before the plot even kicks in. It’s the way the camera lingers on the clutter, the way Bruce Willis moves like a man who’s been tired since the Reagan administration, the way the world feels lived‑in, grimy, and somehow still neon‑fresh. It’s not exposition; it’s a vibe check. And the vibe is: buckle up, this universe is duct‑taped together, but it still slaps.
That’s the secret sauce of this movie—it’s not just sci‑fi, it’s sci‑fi with a pulse. Gen X grew up on a steady diet of “the future is gonna be bleak,” but The Fifth Element said, “Sure, but it’ll also be weird, loud, sweaty, and kind of fabulous.” It’s a film that doesn’t apologize for being maximalist. It throws colors at you like a rave flyer, mixes opera with gunfire, and lets Gary Oldman monologue like he’s auditioning for a villainous TED Talk. It’s messy in the way life is messy, and that’s why it still feels alive.
And then there’s Leeloo—Milla Jovovich moving like a myth in motion, equal parts innocence and apocalypse. Her scenes with Korben shouldn’t work on paper: she’s a divine weapon, he’s a cab driver with a nicotine problem. But the chemistry is this strange, earnest thing that sneaks up on you. It’s not romantic in the Hollywood sense; it’s romantic in the “two exhausted people trying to save something worth saving” sense. That’s the Gen‑X heart of it. We didn’t want perfect love stories—we wanted connection in a world that felt like it was overheating.
Even the action sequences feel like they’re in on the joke. The shootout at Fhloston Paradise is basically Looney Tunes with automatic weapons, and Chris Tucker’s Ruby Rhod is the kind of performance that would break the internet today. The movie never stops to explain itself, because it doesn’t need to. It trusts you to vibe with it. And that’s why it still sizzles: it’s confident, it’s chaotic, and it’s absolutely uninterested in being cool in the way studios define cool. It’s cool because it’s weird. It’s cool because it’s itself.
As for the new SteelBook release—this thing is catnip for collectors. The artwork leans into the film’s neon‑mythic energy, the colors pop like they’ve been soaking in UV light, and the finish has that tactile “don’t smudge me” sheen that makes you handle it like a sacred object. The 4K disc transfer is crisp, the audio mix is punchy, and the packaging finally gives this cult classic the physical-media love it deserves. It’s the kind of edition that feels like a little shrine to a movie that never stopped being a vibe.
In the end, this release just feels right—like the movie finally got the physical home it always deserved. The Fifth Element has lived a dozen lives across formats. Still, this 4K Ultra HD Limited Edition SteelBook is the one that actually matches the film’s energy: loud, stylish, a little chaotic, and absolutely committed to its own vibe. If you grew up on this movie, or if you just want a version that does justice to its neon‑mythic weirdness, this is the edition that earns its shelf space. It’s the kind of release that reminds you why we still collect physical media in the first place.
44K Ultra HD + Blu-ray + Digital / SteelBook / Limited Edition
Home Video Distributor: Sony Pictures
Available on Blu-ray - September 26, 2023
Screen Formats: 2.39:1
Subtitles: English; English SDH; French; Spanish
Video: HDR10
Audio: English: Dolby Atmos; English: Dolby TrueHD 7.1; French: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1; Spanish: Dolby Digital 5.1
Discs: 4K Ultra HD; Blu-ray Disc; Two-disc set
Region Encoding: 4K region-free; blu-ray locked to Region A
In a future stacked sky‑high with chaos, cab driver Korben Dallas collides—literally—with Leeloo, a mysterious supreme being who might be the universe’s last hope. What follows is a neon‑drenched sprint through cosmic opera, explosive fashion, and the kind of unapologetic weirdness only the ’90s could cook up. Part sci‑fi, part cartoon, part myth, and all vibe, The Fifth Element is the rare space opera that remembers to have fun while saving the world.
VIDEO
This transfer is the movie looking the way your memory insists it always looked—sharp, saturated, and buzzing with that Luc Besson “everything is a little too bright and a little too alive” energy. The colors pop without tipping into garish, which is a miracle considering half the film looks like a rave poster.
Skin tones stay natural, the deep blues of the cityscapes hold their detail, and the Fhloston Paradise sequence finally has the clarity to match its chaos. Grain is present but never noisy, giving the whole thing that tactile, film‑stock warmth Gen X grew up on. It’s the best the movie has ever looked at home.
AUDIO
The audio mix is pure sensory indulgence. The opera scene? Still goosebumps. The gunfights? Still cartoonishly punchy. Ruby Rhod’s shrieks? Still glass‑shattering in the best way. Dialogue sits cleanly in the center channel, even when the soundscape gets dense. The low end has real heft—engines rumble, explosions thump, and the score wraps around you like a neon boa. It’s immersive without being overwhelming, which is exactly the sweet spot for a movie that thrives on controlled chaos.
Supplements:
Commentary:
- None
Special Features:
The supplements lean into the film’s cult‑classic status. You get the usual behind‑the‑scenes material—costume design deep dives, effects breakdowns, interviews that remind you just how much of this movie was built by hand. There’s a solid archival doc that captures the film’s “we’re making something wild, let’s just go with it” ethos. Nothing feels padded; everything feels like it’s there because someone genuinely loves this movie. It’s not an exhaustive film‑school package, but it’s a satisfying, well‑curated set that respects the fans who’ve kept this film alive for decades.
- Making‑of documentary digging into Besson’s worldbuilding, miniatures, and that wild ’90s production energy
- Costume design featurette spotlighting Jean‑Paul Gaultier’s 900+ outfits and the glorious chaos behind them
- Visual effects breakdowns showing how practical models and early CGI collided to build the film’s neon future
- Cast & crew interviews (archival and modern) that actually feel candid instead of press‑kit polished
- Opera sequence deep dive with choreography, vocal work, and effects layers peeled back
- Production design gallery full of concept art, blueprints, and those chunky retro‑future props
- Trailers & TV spots that remind you how bonkers ’90s marketing really was
| Movie |  |
|
| Video | |
|
| Audio |  |
|
| Extras |  |
|
|
Composite 4K/Blu-ray Grade
|
||
