If there was ever a place where the word “bad” could be considered a relative term, it would be in the movies.  Over the course of film history, we have seen Hollywood and the film industry at large put out an astounding variety of movies, and not all of them have hit their targets the way that the filmmakers had intended.  If you produce hundreds of products within a given year, the odds are that some, if not most of them are not going to be good.  But like most things, one man’s trash can be another man’s treasure, and that has led to a fascinating occurrence in the film community.  Some “bad movies” have actually earned a fanbase all on their own, finding an audience in some unexpected ways.  This has been the case with films that have built a reputation over time, but nowadays, we are actually seeing intentionally bad movies become phenomenally successful upon their initial releases, as was the case with the premiere of Sharknado on the SyFy Channel earlier this summer.  How and why “bad movies” find their audiences is still a mystery to many, but what I love about this trend is that it shakes up our preconceived notions about the film industry, and makes us reconsider what we find entertaining in the first place.

So, what is it about these “bad” movies that makes them so entertaining to us?  The truth is that there is no “one thing” that defines the success behind these films, and usually it’s all relative to each individual movie.  Sometimes it’s the incompetency behind the making of the film that we find so entertaining.  Sometimes it’s because the film is so out-of-date that it becomes hilarious.  Sometimes it’s the lack of self-awareness and ego behind the director’s vision.  And sometimes it’s the filmmakers just not giving a damn what other people think and just going all out with their material. The formula has no consistency, and yet we see many film’s fall into these many different categories of “bad” films.  Usually the best of the these are the ones that fulfill the criteria of a “bad” movie so perfectly, that it becomes memorable and re-watchable.  Only in rare cases does this work intentionally, and usually the best “bad” films arise from an unexpected accident.

Some of the best “bad’ movies have come out of turmoil, which makes their existence all the more fascinating.  Usually this is attributed to movies that were made despite the fact that their filmmakers didn’t know what they were doing.  One of the most notorious examples of this was the 1966 cult classic, Manos: The Hands of Fate.  Manos was the creation of Hal Warren, a fertilizer salesman from El Paso, Texas who made a bet with a screenwriter friend of his that he could make his own movie without any help from Hollywood.  Making good on his wager, Mr. Warren wrote and directed this schlocky horror film centered around a cult leader named the Master (pictured above) who holds a family hostage in his compound, which is watched over by a lecherous caretaker named Torgo.  Hal Warren shot the film with a camera that could only shot 30 seconds of film at a time with no recorded sound, and most of the movie was shot at night with set lighting attracting moths in almost every shot.  The finished film is a convoluted mess and it ended any shot for Hal Warren to pursue a career in filmmaking.  However, many years later, the film was rediscovered by the producers of the show Mystery Science Theater, who then featured it on their show and created a renewed interest in this odd little film that no one outside of Texas knew about.  Manos became a hit afterwards because people were fascinated by how silly this poorly made film was, something that the MST crew had a hand in.  Since then, Manos has earned a reputation for being among the worst films ever made, and that in itself has made it a favorite for people who gravitate towards that.

While Manos represents an example of a disaster turned into a success, there are other bad films that have become fan favorites just out of being incredibly dated.  These movies usually make up the majority of what people consider good “bad” films, since most films are a product of their times.  Whether people are entertained by these because of their “out-of-date” nature or merely because of shear nostalgia, there’s no denying that time has a way of changing how we view these kinds of movies.  The 1950’s has become an era that many film fans find to be full of some good trash, mainly due to the rise of the B-movie in this period of time.  Some cult hits like The Blob (1958), Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), Attack of the 50 ft. Woman (1958), and The Thing from Another World (1951) all rode the surge of a sci-fi craze of the post-war years, and while everything from these films, like the visual effects and the acting, feels antiquated today, they still have a camp value that makes them watchable all these years later.  The “cheese factor” plays a big role in keeping these films entertaining long after their relevance has diminished.  You can see this also in the beach party movies of the early 60’s, which are charming despite their paper-thin plots. The one other era that has produced it’s own distinctive set of dated films would be the 1980’s, with it’s collection of dated fantasy pictures and culturally infused fluff, like He-Man inspired Masters of the Universe (1987) or the E.T. wannabe Mac and Me (1988).  By all accounts, these films would have long been forgotten outside of their era, and yet they have lived on with audiences who still find something entertaining in them.

One of my favorite types of “bad” film is the kind that comes from a complete lack of control from either the director or the performer.  There have been some directors that have actually gained their reputation as an filmmaker by staying within the B-Movie community.  The most famous of these filmmakers has become Ed Wood Jr.; a person who some have claimed to be the worst director in history.  Ed Wood’s notable contributions to cinema have been the cross-dressing comedy Glen or Glenda (1953), the Bela Lugosi-starring Bride of the Monster (1955), and what many consider the director’s “masterpiece,” Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959).  Whether or not Ed Wood was earnest in his vision or whether he made his film’s intentionally bad is still debated, but there is no doubt that Plan 9 is a special kind of “bad;” a movie so aggressively cheesy, that it is hard not to be entertained by it.

Other filmmakers who were more aware of their B-Movie status have still gained an honored reputation with audiences.  Roger Corman, a man who prided himself in making movies both fast and cheap, has actually become influential to a who generation of blockbuster filmmakers.  His Little Shop of Horrors (1962) even inspired a Broadway musical.  Also, sometimes a way out there performance can often make a “bad” movie worth watching.  I would argue that this is the case with most Nicolas Cage films, like Vampire’s Kiss (1988) or Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance (2012).  One film that has become a cult classic mainly due to one “out-of-control” performance was 1981’s Mommie Dearest, where Faye Dunaway chews the scenery in a good way as a way over-the-top Joan Crawford.  Usually a lack of restraint by the filmmakers can sink a film, but these movies actually prove that it’s not always the case.

While many films usually become a cult hit over time, there a select few that attempt to achieve cult status right away by being intentionally bad.  Like I stated earlier, Sharknado became an instant hit when it premiered on cable, and having seen the film myself, it’s clear that the filmmakers behind it knew what kind of movie they were making.  Rarely do you see filmmakers try to aim for that intentionally “bad” gimmick for their movies, because obviously if audiences don’t accept it, then you’ve just made a bad movie.  Director Tim Burton tried to create a homage to B-Movie sci-fi with his 1996 film Mars Attacks, but the film was an odd blend of tounge-in-cheek mockery with earnest storytelling, and the end result doesn’t achieve what it set out to do.

But, one example of an intentionally bad film that did click with audiences is the campy musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975); a movie that pays homage to campy horror and sci-fi, while mixing in 50’s rock music and trans-sexual humor.  Rocky Horror tries so hard to be so bad, you would think that the whole thing would be a mess; and yet, it remains entertaining and it has one of the most dedicated fanbases in  the world.  I think the reason why a movie like Rocky Horror works is because of the fact that it just doesn’t care what people will think about it.  It is what it is, and that’s why people gravitate to it.  It’s a one of a kind.  A movie like Mars Attacks didn’t click as a throwback, because it didn’t have that same kind of assured belief in itself, and that shows why it is hard to make a bad movie feel good.

When it comes down to it, “bad” movies are usually determined by the tastes of the people who watch them.  We have made some of these “bad” movies our favorites because of the value we find in their chessy-ness, or by our fascination with how badly it gets things wrong.  For a movie to be all around bad, it has to lack any kind of entertainment value in the end.  For those who are wondering, the worst movie that I have ever seen, and one I see no redeeming value in, is the 1996 film Space Jam.  To me, it was the worst experience I have ever had watching a movie, mainly because I saw it as a blatant self-serving production piece for a sports super star (Michael Jordan) and it ruined three things on film that I love dearly: NIKE, Looney Tunes, and Bill Murray.  But, I do recognize that the film does have its fans, so in the end it all comes down to taste.  But, it is fascinating how our tastes leave room for something as poorly made as a Manos or even the more recent Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2010), a movie that needs to be seen to be believed.  There is certainly value in seeing something that we find entertaining, and perhaps that is why these films live on the way they do.

This week, two very different biopics open in theaters, both ambitious but at the same time controversial.  What we have are Ashton Kutcher’s Jobs and Lee Daniel’s:The Butler (you can thank uptight Warner Bros. for the title of the latter film.)  Both are attempting to tell the stories of extraordinary men in extraordinary eras, while at the same time delving into what made these people who they are.  But what I find interesting is the different kinds of receptions that these two movies are receiving.  Lee Daniel’s The Butler is being praised by both audiences and critics (it’s receiving a 73% rating on Rottentomatoes.com at the time of writing this article) while Kutcher’s Jobs is almost universally panned.  One would argue that it has to do with who’s making the movies and who is been cast in the roles, but it also stems from larger lessons that we’ve learned about the difficult task of adapting true-life histories onto film.  The historical drama has been a staple of film-making from the very beginning of cinema.  Today, a historical film is almost always held to a higher standard by the movie-going public, and so it must play by different rules than other kinds of movies.  Often it comes down to how accurately a film adheres to historical events, but that’s not always an indicator of a drama’s success.  Sometimes, it may work to a film’s advantage to take some liberties with history.

The Butler and Jobs make up what is the most common form of historical drama; the biopic.  In this case the subjects are White House butler Cecil Gaines, portrayed by Oscar-winner Forrest Whittaker, and visionary Apple Computers co-founder Steve Jobs.  Both are men who hold extraordinary places in history, but in very different ways.  Despite the differences in the subjects, it is the history that surrounds them that plays the biggest part of the story-telling.  Filmmakers love biopics because it allows them to teach a history lesson while at the same time creating a character study of their subject.  Usually the best biopics center around great historical figures, but not always.  One of the most beloved biopics of all time is Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull (1980), which tells the story of a washed-up heavyweight boxer who was all but forgotten by the public. Scorsese was attracted to this little known story of boxer Jake LaMotta, and in it he saw a worthwhile cautionary tale that he could bring to the big screen.  The common man can be the subject of an epic adventure if his life’s story is compelling enough.  But there are challenges in making a biopic work within a film narrative.

Case in point, how much of the person’s life story do you tell.  This can be the most problematic aspect of adapting a true story to the big screen.  Some filmmakers, when given the task of creating a biopic of a historical figure, will try to present someone’s entire life in a film; from cradle to grave. This sometimes works, like Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emporer (1987), which flashbacks to it’s protagonist’s childhood years frequently throughout the narrative.  Other times, it works best just to focus on one moment in a person’s life and use that as the focus of understanding who they were.  My all-time favorite film, Lawrence of Arabia (1962) accomplishes that feat perfectly by depicting the years of Major T.E. Lawrence’s life when he helped lead the Arab revolts against the Turks in World War I.  The entire 3 1/2 hours of the film never deviates from this period in time, except for a funeral prologue at the beginning, and that is because the film is not about how Lawrence became who he was, but rather about what he accomplished during these formidable years in his life.  How a film focuses on it’s subject is based around what the filmmakers wants the audience to learn.  Sometimes this can be a problem if the filmmaker doesn’t know what to focus on.  One example of this is Richard Attenborough’s Chaplin (1992), which makes the mistake of trying to cram too much of it’s subject’s life into one film.  The movie feels too rushed and unfocused and that hurts any chance the movie has with understanding the personality of Charlie Chaplin, despite actor Robert Downey Jr.’s best efforts.  It’s something that must be considered all the time before any biopic is put into production.

Sometimes there are great historical dramas that depict an event without ever centering on any specific person.  These are often called historical mosaics.  Often times, this is where fiction and non-fiction can mingle together effectively without drawing the ire of historical nitpicking.  It’s where you’ll find history used as a backdrop to an original story-line, with fictional characters participating in a real life event; sometimes even encountering a historical figure in the process.  Mostly, these films will depict a singular event using a fictional person as a sort of eyewitness that the audience can identify with.  You see this in films like Ben-Hur (1959), where the fictional Jewish prince lives and bears witness to the life and times of Jesus Christ.  More recently, a film like Titanic (1997) brought the disaster to believable life by having a tragic love story centered around it.  Having the characters in these movies be right in the thick of historical events is the best way to convey the event’s significance to an audience, because it adds the human connection into the moment.  Titanic and Ben-Hur focus on singular events, but this principle can also be true about a film like Forrest Gump (1994) as well, which moves from one historical touchstone to another.  Forrest Gump’s premise may be far-fetched and the history a little romanticized, but it does succeed in teaching us about the era, because it does come from that first-hand experience.  It’s that perspective that separates a historical drama from a documentary, because it helps to ground the imagination behind the fictional elements into our own lives and experiences.

Though most filmmakers strive to be as historically accurate as they can be, almost all of them have to make compromises to make a film work for the big screen.  Often, a story needs to trim much of the historical elements and even, in some cases, take the extraordinary step of rewriting history. You see this a lot when characters are created specifically for a film as a means of tying the narrative together; either by creating an amalgam of many different people into one person, or by just inventing a fictional person out of nowhere.  This was the case in Steven Spielberg’s Catch Me if You Can (2002), which followed the extraordinary life of Frank Abagnale Jr. (played by Leonardo DiCaprio), a notorious con-artist.  In the film, Abagnale takes on many different identities, but is always on the run from a persistent FBI agent named Carl Hanratty (Tom Hanks). Once finally caught, Abagnale is reformed with the help of Hanratty and the film’s epilogue includes the statement that, “Frank and Carl remain friends to this day.”  This epilogue had to be meant as a joke by the filmmakers, because even though Frank Abagnale is a real person, Carl Hanratty is not. He’s an entirely fictional character created as a foil for the main protagonist.  It’s not uncommon to see this in most films, since filmmakers need to take some liberties to move a story forward and fill in some gaps.  Other films do the risky job of depicting real history and completely changing much of it in service of the story.   Mel Gibson’s Braveheart takes so many historical liberties that it almost turns the story of Scottish icon William Wallace into a fairy-tale; but the end result is so entertaining, you can sometimes forgive the filmmakers for making the changes they did.

But while making a few changes is a good thing, there is a fine line where it can be a disservice to a film.  It all comes down to tone.  Braveheart gets away with more because it’s subject is so larger than life, that it makes sense to embellish the history a bit to make it more legend than fact.  Other films run the risk of either being too irreverent to be taken seriously or too bogged down in the details to be entertaining.  Ridley Scott crosses that line quite often with his historical epics, and while he comes out on the right side occasionally (Gladiator and Black Hawk Down) he also comes up with the opposite just as many times (Robin Hood, 1492: Conquest of Paradise, Kingdom of Heaven theatrical cut).  Part of Scott’s uneven record is due to his trademark style, which services some films fine, but feel out of place with others.  Tone also is set with the casting of actors, and while some feel remarkably appropriate for their time periods (Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln for example) others will feel too modern or awkwardly out-of-place (Colin Farrell in Alexander).  Because historical films are expensive to make, compromises on style and casting are understandable for making a film work, but it can also do a disservice to the story and shed away any accountability in the history behind it.  While stylizing history can sometimes work (Zack Snyder’s 300), there are also cinematic styles that will feel totally wrong for a film.  Does the shaky camera work, over-saturated color timing and CGI enhancements of Pearl Harbor (2001) make you learn any more about the history of the event?  Doubtful.

So, with Lee Daniel’s The Butler and Jobs, we find two historical biopics that are being received in very different ways.  I believe The Butler has the advantage because we don’t know that much about the life that Mr. Cecil Gaines lived.  What the film offers is a look at history from a perspective that most audiences haven’t seen before, which helps to shed some new light on an already well covered time period.  With Jobs, it has the disadvantage of showing the life of a person that we already know everything about, and as a result adds nothing new to the table.  Both films are certainly Oscar-bait, as most historical films are, but The Butler at least took on more risks in its subject matter, which appears to have paid off in the end.  Jobs just comes off as another failed passion project.  What it shows is that successful historical dramas find ways to be both educational and entertaining; and on occasion, inspiring.  That’s what helps to make history feel alive for us, the audience.  It’s the closest thing we have to time machines that help be an eyewitness to our own history.  And when it’s a good story, it stays with us for the rest of our lives.

What does it take to blacklist a whole film?  Walt Disney’s 1946 film Song of the South has the dubious distinction of being the only film in the company’s history to be declared un-releasable. Many people state that it’s because of the perception that the film has a racist message and that it sugarcoats and simplifies the issue of slavery in an offensive way.  I would argue that it’s not right to label a film one way without ever having seen it, but unfortunately Disney is reluctant to even let that happen.  What is interesting is the fact that by putting a self-imposed ban on the distribution of the film, Disney is actually perpetuating the notion that Song of the South is a dangerous movie, due to the stigma it holds as being the one film that they refuse to make public.  Disney, more than any other media company in the world, is built upon their wholesome image, and for some reason they are afraid to let their guard down and air out their dirty laundry.  But, is Song of the South really the embarrassment that everyone says it is, or is it merely a misunderstood masterpiece. Thankfully, I have seen the film myself (thank you Japanese bootlegs and YouTube), so I can actually pass judgment on it, and like most other controversial things, you gain a much different perspective once you remove all the noise surrounding it.

For a film that has gained such a notorious reputation over the years, the actual history of the production is relatively free of controversy.  Walt Disney wanted to adapt the Uncle Remus Stories, which were popular African-American folktales published by Joel Chandler Harris in post-Reconstruction Georgia.  Disney said that these stories were among his favorites as a child and he was eager to bring to life the moralistic tales through animated shorts starring the characters Brer Rabbit, Brer Fox and Brer Bear.  The film was a breakthrough production for the Disney company as it was a mix of live action and animation.  Sequences where the live action character of Uncle Remus interacts with the cast of animated critters were astonishing to audiences at the visual effects were highly praised at the time; remember this was almost 20 years before Mary Poppins (1964), which was also a hybrid film in itself.  Walt Disney treated the subject material with great reverence and he brought in the best talent possible to work on the film, including Oscar-winning Cinematographer Gregg Toland (Citizen Kane, The Grapes of Wrath).  Disney was especially proud of the casting of James Baskett as Uncle Remus, and he even campaigned heavily to earn Mr. Baskett an Oscar nomination for his performance;  Baskett wasn’t nominated, but he did win a special honorary Oscar in recognition of his work on the film.  The movie was a financial success and it did earn another Oscar for the song “Zip-a-Dee-Do-Dah,” which has become a sort of an unofficial anthem for the Disney company.

Surprisingly, the film would be re-released constantly for decades afterwards.  It even provided the inspiration for what is still one of Disneyland’s most popular attractions: Splash Mountain.  It wouldn’t be until after a short theatrical run in 1985 that Disney began their policy of keeping the film out of the public eye.  Not surprisingly, this was also around the same time that a new corporate team, led by Michael Eisner, had taken over operation of the company, and with them a whole new mindset centered around brand appeal.  While Song of the South would sometimes be called out in the past by organizations like the NAACP for it’s quaint portrayal of post-slavery life, the film was not considered an outright embarrassment.  It was merely seen as a product of its time and was much more notable for its animated sequences than for its actual story line.  But once Disney made it their policy to shelve the film for good based on the perception that the film made light of slavery, that’s when all controversy started heating up.  To this day, Song of the South has yet to receive a home video release here in the United States, and Disney is still continuing to stand by their decision to not make the film public.

So, having seen the actual film, it has given me the impression that Disney didn’t ban the film just because of its content, but rather it was an attempt to keep their image as clean as possible.  My own impression of the film is this; it’s harmless.  Don’t get me wrong, it is not the most progressive depiction of African-American life in America and some of the portrayals of the ex-slave characters are certainly out of date to the point of being cringe-inducing.  But it’s no worse than a film like Gone with the Wind (1939), and that film is considered one of the greatest movies of all times.  If Song of the South has a flaw it would be that it’s boring.  The movie clearly shows Walt Disney’s lack of experience in live action film-making, as the main story of the film is very dull and flimsy. Basically it follows the life of a young southern boy, played by Disney child star Bobby Driscoll (Peter Pan) as he deals with the break-up of his family and the finding of solace in the stories told to him by a former slave, Uncle Remus.  There’s not much more to it than that.  Where the film really shines is in its animated sequences, which are just as strong as anything else Disney was making in the post-War era.  The art style in particular really does stand out, and conveys the beauty of the Southern countryside perfectly.

Somehow, I believe that there’s a different reason why the film has garnered the reputation that it has.  Disney is a big company that has built itself around an image.  Unfortunately, when you go to certain extremes to keep your image as flawless as it can be, it’s going to make other people want to tear that down even more.  There are a lot of people out there who hate Disney purely on their wholesome image alone, and when they find cracks in that facade, they are going to keep on exploiting that whenever possible.  Walt Disney himself has been called everything from racist to anti-Semitic, which if you actually dig deeper into any of those claims, you’ll find that there’s little truth to them and that they’re usually attributed to people who came from rival companies or had a contract dispute with Mr. Disney.

Unfortunately, by trying so hard to sweep so much under the rug, the Disney company opens itself to these kinds of accusations; and they have no one else to blame for them but themselves. Walt Disney was not a flawless man by any means and the company has made embarrassingly short sighted decisions in the past; hell they’re still making them now (John Carter, The Lone Ranger). But, their flaws are no worse than the ones that plague other companies in Hollywood.  Just look at the racial stereotypes in old Warner Brothers cartoons; there was an actual war propaganda Looney Tunes short called Bugs Nips the Nips, which is about as racist as you can get.  The only difference is that Warner Brothers has not shied away from it’s past embarrassments, and have made them public while stating the historical context of their productions.  As a result, Warner Brothers has avoided the “racist” labels entirely and their image has been kept intact.  For some reason, Disney doesn’t want to do that with Song of the South, despite the fact that Disney has made public some of their older shorts that are far more overtly racially insensitive than the movie. There are shorts from the 1930’s that showed Mickey Mouse in black face, and yet they still got a video release as part of the Walt Disney Treasures DVD Collection.  I think the reason why Song of the South didn’t get the same treatment is because it’s such a polished and earnest production, and it’s probably easier to dismiss the silly cartoon for it’s flaws because they’re less significant.

Regardless of how it accurately it addresses the issues of slavery and the African-American experience, the Song of the South should at least be given the opportunity to be seen.  It’s a part of the Disney company’s history whether they like it or not, and to sweep it aside is doing a disservice to the Disney legacy as a whole.  Being a white man, I certainly can’t predict what the reaction from the African-American community will be, but is that any excuse to hide the film from them.  Maybe black audiences will come to the film with an open mind; quite a few at least.  It just doesn’t make any sense why this is the film that has been deemed un-watchable when other films like Gone with the Wind, which is very similar content wise, is heralded as a classic.  Even D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation (1915) is available on home video, and that film openly endorses the Ku Klux Klan.  Song of the South is so harmless by comparison and the worst that you can say about it is that it’s out of date.

As a film, I would recommend everyone to give it at least a watch, if you can.  The animated sequences are definitely worth seeing on their own, and I think some people will appreciate the film as a sort of cinematic time capsule.  While the African-American characters are portrayed in a less than progressive way, I don’t think that it’s the fault of the actors.  James Baskett in particular does the most that he can with the role, and it’s hard not to like him in the film.  He also does double duty playing both Uncle Remus and the voice of Brer Fox, which shows the range that he had as a performer.  The music is also exceptional with songs like “The Laughing Place,” “Sooner or Later,” “How Do You Do?” and the Oscar-winning “Zip-a-Dee-Do-Dah;” crowd-pleasers in every way. It’s definitely not deserving of the reputation it’s gotten.  Disney’s reluctance to make the film available just goes to show the folly of trying to keep a flawless image, when it would actually serve them better to have it out in the open.  Sometimes you just need to take your medicine and let things happen.  After all, aren’t the people who ride Splash Mountain everyday at Disneyland going to wonder some day what film it’s all based on?

This is no ordinary corporate showcase.  In the last decade or so, San Diego Comics Convention (SDCC), or its more commonly known name COMIC CON, has become a full-fledged festival for the whole of Nerd-Dom.  Not only is it a great place for fans to encounter their favorite artists and filmmakers in person, but it’s also a great place for Hollywood to showcase their tent-pole productions to an eager audience.   In all, its a celebration of all forms of media, where the experience of the presentations and panels can often overshadow the actual products themselves. But, while everything is all in fun at Comic Con, the business end is what matters the most on the actual show floor itself.  As with all conventions, Comic Con is geared toward marketing.  Big studios and publishers get the most attention in the media coverage of the Con, but SDCC started with the small vendors and they continue to be part of the backbone of the whole show.  For everyone involved, there is a lot at stake in these four packed days in mid-July.

Up and coming artists, journalists, and filmmakers are just as common amongst the visitors as they are among the headliners, and the mingling of different talents defines much of the experience at the Con.  While many people get excited by the surprises on hand, that excitement can sometimes have difficulty extending outside the walls of San Diego’s Convention Center.  Marketing to a crowd of fans is much different than marketing to a general audience.  I believe Comic Con works best as a testing ground for marketing strategies in the bigger push of selling a project to the world. Sometimes, a lot of buzz can be generated with a surprise announcement or a with a well placed tease.  One clear example of this at Comic Con this year was the surprise announcement of a Superman and Batman movie coming in 2015.  The announcement was a bombshell for the fans who witnessed it live at the convention, and that extended to a media blitz that spread quickly through all news sources that same day.  This surprise effectively gained needed attention for a project that has only been in the planning stages so far.  Where the risk lies is in the effectiveness of this kind of moment, and there can be no more unforgiving audience than one made up of nerds.

Many of the big studios have figured this out over time, and the planning of their showcases at Comic Con are almost as intricate as the projects they’re trying to sell.  One thing they have certainly learned is that Comic Con patrons are extremely discerning, and are often even more informed about the different projects than the talents involved.  There is a fine line between excitement and scorn within the fan community, and if you fall on the wrong end of that line, it can be brutal.  Comic Con is all about fan service, which is no surprise to everyone.  This year in particular, there were more instances of stars making appearances in costume than ever before.  As you can see in the photo above, Spiderman was there to address the audience in person, which was a special treat considering that the film’s star, Andrew Garfield, was the one behind the mask.  Avengers villain Loki also showed up to introduce footage from the upcoming Thor sequel, with actor Tom Hiddleston completely in character the whole time.  All of these moments make the live presentations far more entertaining, and that in turn helps to make the audience even more enthusiastic about the upcoming films.  Comic Con is a place where theatrics meets commerce, and where a a well made sales pitch can turn into a fanboy’s dream come true.

Given that SDCC started as a showcase for comics, its no surprise that Marvel and DC are the ones who put on the biggest shows; and are the ones who connect to their audiences better than anyone else, through all their experience.  But more recently, the showcases have steered away from the printed page and have been more focused on the silver screen.  Its not that Comic Con has abandoned the medium that started it all; print comics still have a place on the convention floor. It’s just that the movie industry is bigger and more involved, and have seen the benefits of marketing at the Convention.

With production budgets rising, Comic Con has become more important than ever as a way to generate enthusiasm for film projects; even ones that have trouble getting attention.  Several years ago, Disney made a surprise announcement at Comic Con that there was a sequel to their cult-hit Tron (1982) in the works, which was highlighted by a teaser trailer.  Little was known or talked about with the project, and Disney wasn’t quite sure if the project would go anywhere past Development, so the trailer was made as a way to test the waters.  The reception they got was overwhelming, especially when it was revealed that the original film’s star, Jeff Bridges, was involved and production went full steam ahead afterwards.  Few expected a Tron sequel to be newsworthy, let alone the hot topic of the conversation at the convention, but Disney showed that year what a simple surprise could do to generate excitement.  Since then, surprises have not only become more frequent, but now they are expected.

That leads to some unforeseen consequences sometimes in a high stakes venue like this.  When the audiences are expecting a surprise to happen at any moment, it puts even more pressure on the marketing teams to deliver the goods.  There have been many cases when a production company ends up promising too much and then fails to deliver.  A couple years ago, Guillermo del Toro teased the crowd at a Disney presentation by revealing his involvement in a new Haunted Mansion film, which he promised was going to be more spiritually faithful (no pun intended) to the original Disneyland ride than the Eddie Murphy flop had been.  It was an exciting announcement at the time, but several years later, almost nothing new has been heard about the project, and with Del Toro taking on more and more new projects, it’s becoming more obvious that this particular project is probably not going to happen.  Other broken promises have included several announcements of a Justice League movie, including one that is currently out there now and remains to be seen; or news that TV-scribe David E. Kelley was going to give Wonder Woman a new TV series, which led to a disastrous pilot episode that never got picked up.  This is why production companies need to show good judgment when they present their projects at Comic Con.  Once you make a promise, you have to commit.  If you don’t, no one will take those promises seriously, and the whole aura that a Comic Con surprise makes will stop working.

In many ways, Comic Con has become a more favorable place for television than film.  TV shows like Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Dexter, and Doctor Who can benefit from all the same kinds of media buzz that a theatrical film can get at the Con, without having the pressure of marketing a massive project with a $250 million budget; although TV budgets are rising too. Comic Con isn’t the only platform for marketing a film, but it’s certainly one of the biggest and the stakes are getting higher.  In a year like 2013, which has seen numerous under-performing films hitting theaters this summer, the pressure is on when it comes to getting the message to resonate beyond the cheering fans in Hall H.  I don’t envy the people behind the Comic Con presentations one bit, because they have so much resting on their shoulders.  And when you’re dealing with a fan-base as well informed as those in the fan community, it’s a wonder how they can keep the surprises coming.

I should note that I have yet to attend Comic Con myself.  My observations are from an outsider’s perspective, though I do follow the live news coverage of the conventions every year with great anticipation.  I hope to someday see it for myself; just to take in the experience of seeing the whole carnival-esque atmosphere of the place.  I’m not sure if I’ll attend it in costume like all the cosplaying regulars there, but then again, “when in Rome…”.  Overall, there’s no doubt that Comic Con is one of the most important institutions we have in our media culture today, and it will continue for many years to come.  There are Comic conventions to be found across the world over, but this is the grand-daddy of them all, and no other convention has this kind of influence on the film industry in general.  Plus, where else are you going to see cool stuff like this: