Monday, July 30, 2012

The Hobbit: How Three Films Might Threaten Our Film Culture (and Wallets)

In case the hype machine hasn't told you yet, The Hobbit is the stuff that happens before The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien intended The Hobbit to be a children's book, as opposed to The Lord of the Rings. I've read a chunk of The Hobbit, and it indeed has much better pacing than The Fellowship of the Ring.

Once upon a time, a shrewd man named Peter Jackson thought this children's book could only fit into two films. He has since announced that it can fit into three films. 

Jackson's announcement brings up a question: what the hell happened?

Specifically, what happened to one book getting one movie? What happened to getting our money's worth? What happened to writing, an activity that requires one to remove unnecessary words, sentences, and events?

I believe it all started with the two films made out of the last Harry Potter book. Not to be outdone, the second part of a two-film adaptation of Twilight's final book, Breaking Dawn, will be released later this year.

You know what Peter Jackson has to say about that?

"Hey, fuck you guys. The last Harry Potter and Twilight books were hundreds of pages shorter than Gone with the Wind, but you thought you could make more money by adapting them into two movies that, when combined, were longer than the Gone with the Wind movie? Fuck you guys. I can take a 300-page children's book and turn it into three films. I'm good at telling stories. Fuck you guys."

OK, OK. Peter Jackson would never say or think that. He seems like a pretty nice guy. He probably honestly believes The Hobbit needs three movies. This doesn't change the fact, however, that what he's doing is not good for our film culture, assuming we play along with the business plan.

We shouldn't pay more money to see one story. We shouldn't encourage Hollywood to make even longer franchises. We should spend our money on good movies. I was gonna write another sentence with some curse words, but I guess this'll do.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

The Dark Knight Rises: When Hype and Tragedy Intersect

The events surrounding Christopher Nolan's final Batman movie are hard to swallow and disentangle. Last weekend my desire to see The Dark Knight Rises was lost. After I heard about the horrible murders in Colorado that Friday morning, I couldn't work, and the last thing on my mind was whether the movie was going to be good.

I was already disgusted with the hype surrounding The Dark Knight Rises. Batman fans attacked critics who gave the movie a negative review, even though these fans hadn't seen the movie. The attacks escalated to death threats. Then Christopher Nolan, a supposed artist, gave his savvy, all-business take on the extreme reactions: "I think the fans are very passionate about these characters the way a lot of people are very passionate. Batman's been around for over 70 years and there's a reason for that. He has a huge appeal, so I think you know people certainly respond to the character." Perhaps one could defend Nolan, as this writer did, but I wouldn't. Even if Nolan hadn't heard about the death threats, his comments are not those of an artist but of a peddler. Regardless of how much someone loves a character, that doesn't give the person who hasn't even seen the movie the right to attack a critic for a negative review. It's shitty, immoral discourse, and Nolan, as a supposed artist, should not excuse or encourage it. None of us should. 

Enter James Holmes, a maniac who killed 12 people and injured dozens more (estimates vary by news source) in a Colorado theater. This man claimed that he was inspired by the Joker from Nolan's second Batman film, The Dark Knight. When Holmes appeared in court, he was in a strange daze, not unlike Heath Ledger's Joker when the character is taken into a police station for questioning. Regardless of whether you would draw a causal relationship between the film and Holmes' violence (I can't), it seems the man was a fan of Nolan's movie.

Christopher Nolan issued a statement to express his sadness about the murders. Even though we all expected him to do this, I have no doubt he was sincere. At the same time, it saddens me it took this tragedy to get Nolan to speak out against deranged fandom. I certainly can't equate Holmes to the people who lashed out at the critics, even those who made death threats. But I am still disappointed in Nolan's delayed moral response to mania. 

It's time to change our film culture and challenge businessmen like Nolan to do better. There's nothing wrong with being excited about a character on the big screen, but if the movie isn't good, you don't have to like it. If someone else says the movie isn't good, you don't have to be outraged. I'm not pointing a finger at any specific reader, but a big chunk of our overall film culture is more about hype than quality. 

It's time to ask moral questions about films, as Americans did in the 1960s and 1970s. James Holmes' appreciation of the Joker was obviously not the correct moral response. The fact is that he's not the only person who loves Nolan's Joker in the wrong way (I say with shame that I was one of those people initially). True, most fans like this won't kill people. But why does this strange appreciation occur? Does it have anything to do with a film that doesn't let a superhero be, well, a hero? The Dark Knight is a bleak film with no clear moral point. Does the sequel to this kind of material deserve our hype and excitement? 

Our culture needs more moral clarity, not more bleakness. Satirical Facebook tributes and comments about the attractiveness of James Holmes are examples of our culture's lack of moral restraint. Even if all of these comments about Holmes being cute or being a hero are meant to be funny, they display a remarkable lack of understanding about what transpired in Colorado. People are dead, you fucking morons. Mourn them like any upstanding person should do. And as Facebook defends its users' freedom of speech, I must ask the Facebook Team a question: if the victims were your family members and friends, would the tributes to James Holmes be allowed? Hell no, they wouldn't.

What is up with the darkness surrounding Nolan's last two Batman films? Heath Ledger might have died even if he hadn't locked himself in a hotel room for weeks to become the Joker, and James Holmes might have killed people in a theater even if he hadn't seen The Dark Knight, and fans had threatened the lives of critics for negative reviews of movies before The Dark Knight Rises. So while it would be hard to argue that Nolan's films caused people to lose their fucking minds, it's possible these blockbusters aren't cheering us up the way the original Star Wars trilogy did.

Will any of Nolan's next films address these cultural issues? Will many of us expect any of his next films to do so? God I hope so. 

This article is dedicated to the memory of those who were killed in Aurora, to the families who suffered these losses, and to the people who were injured. Might the rest of us strive to make this world a better place.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Newsroom: Preaching to a Choir


I watched the first episode of The Newsroom with my wife last night. The best part of the experience was when we laughed at Sam Waterson going off on the most annoying character of the show: "I'm a Marine, Don! I will beat the shit out of you, I don't care how many protein bars you eat!" I found myself clinging to the hope that Waterson would beat the shit out of somebody, maybe everybody, involved in the show.

The beginning of The Newsroom starts out well enough. Creator Aaron Sorkin does a good job of showing how political debate in the United States goes stupid. Actor Jeff Daniels is in the middle of this stupid debate. When probed by a student and moderator about what makes America the greatest country in the world, Daniels goes on a rant about how America isn't that great. He cites a lot of depressing statistics and fires at liberals and conservatives. His rant (as unenlightening as it is) then turns embarrassingly sentimental - the sappy dialogue and music brought to mind the "Lesson for the Day" denouements of sitcoms like Family Matters.

The self-importance and lack of intellect that creator Aaron Sorkin displays here is outstanding. It's easy to suggest America is or isn't the greatest country in the world. But here's the truth: any question about the greatest country in the world is idiotic. Who has lived in every country in the world? Who knows everything about every country in the world? These are questions that Sorkin should've raised, but instead I am reminded of Steve Urkel.

Sorkin fumbles again when the BP oil spill comes up. He uses incredible coincidences involving the college roommate and big sister of a character just to be smug about the disaster. I think any reasonable human being knows the oil spill was a travesty, but anyone who disagrees would either a) never watch The Newsroom anyway or b) scoff at Sorkin's smugness.

As a cultural statement, The Newsroom will inspire those who worship the United States to continue their blind faith and know-it-all people to masturbate to depressing statistics. Based on the pilot, it is an irresponsible and, worse, insipid show. We are better off catching another pair of knockers on Game of Thrones.