In the midst of all the big summer season blockbusters that are released this time of year, there are also a handful of small independent films that make it into theaters.  Usually the independent film industry tries to aim for year end releases, if they feel that their movie is award worthy, but oftentimes there are some films that are released earlier in the year, purely because of audience curiosity hitting a high pitch on which the filmmakers wish to capitalize, or because the studios didn’t know where else to put them in their schedule.  This latter camp could be for two reasons; one, because the movie in question is so strange that the studio is unsure how the audience will react to it, or that it’s just plain unwatchable and the studio dumps it into theaters.  Whatever the movie turns out to be, the audience ultimately decides.  There is a part of the indie film audience that craves for the weird and unpredictable, but this is also an audience with discerning tastes.  For the most part, art house audiences want to see something challenging and provocative; something different from the norm of the average studio output.  But, like with all art-forms, there stands a fine line between making something that’s provocative, and something that rings hollow.  Filmmakers must never forget that cinema is an art-form with the clear purpose of entertainment.  You need to make something that can grab and hold your audiences attention for two hours at a time, and to do that, concessions to the audiences tastes must be accounted for.  That’s not to mean that a filmmakers artistic expression needs to be watered down to appeal to the public; it just means that the filmmaker must examine whether or not their vision can hold weight within the medium of cinema.

This was the thought that ran through my head over the last couple weeks as I experienced two of this summer’s most talked about independent films.  The first one I saw was a bizarre, dryly dark comedy called The Lobster, which stars Colin Ferrell as a lonely man who is mandated to find his true love at a resort, or else he will be transformed into the animal of his choice; the titular lobster.  The second film that I saw was Swiss Army Man, a buddy comedy about a marooned castaway played by Paul Dano who finds his way home thanks to the many talents of his resourceful friend; a farting corpse played by Daniel Radcliffe.  Both films commit to their ridiculous premises and even manage to find a surprising profoundness within their narratives, mostly pertaining to human relationships and the pressures that society puts on the individual.  But, after seeing both, I’m surprised how different my reaction was to both movies.  I found Swiss Army Man to be the far more effective of the two, ,mainly because of it’s charm, and the very noticeable lack of charm in The Lobster.  Even still, I can understand completely how some people might have the opposite opinion and prefer The Lobster as the better film, or find them both equally charming.  I can also completely understand if someone ends up hating both as well.  It’s clear that indie films like Swiss Army Man and The Lobster are not for anyone, and their target audience may be minuscule at best.  But, if one keeps an open mind, they may find the appeal of movies like these in unexpected ways, and that sense of discovery is what really helps to drive the independent market.  Indie films tend to be a crap shoot for the industry, because oftentimes you’ll find movies within it that have limited appeal and then other times you’ll find the next big thing.

I think the reason why I responded so strongly to something like Swiss Army Man was because there was a sense that came through that the filmmakers knew what kind of movie they were making.  The directors, Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (credited as The Daniels), have even stated in interviews that the movie sort of started as a bet, seeing whether or not they could make a movie centered around a flatulent corpse.  The fact that they made it work, and even found a surprisingly humane narrative about companionship with it, is something rather remarkable and it shows the real power of creative storytelling.  But, what the movie also does well is to not take itself too seriously, while at the same time keeping it relentlessly absurd.  I think this was helped immensely by the performances of the two leads, Dano and Radcliffe.  If you don’t buy into their performances, then the absurdity of the premise rings hollow.  Radcliffe in particular takes command of the film, making the film’s sentient corpse feel authentic and not at all farcical; like an artsy Weekend at Bernie’s (1989).  The humor is overall balanced, and that’s a large part of why it works.  The gags come naturally out of the situation and support the narrative of these two characters.  By doing that, it avoids a pitfall that too many other quirky independent films fall into called pretentiousness.

The Lobster is unfortunately the kind of movie that I feel earns the label of pretentious; but at the same time, it is also far from being the most pretentious thing I’ve ever seen on the big screen.  The Lobster’s main fault is that it takes what should be absurdly funny within it’s premise and strips it down into a cold, sterile presentation.    It’s clinical, when it should be farcical.  I recognize where the humor should be, but the staging undermines what humor could have been there.  The director, Yorgos Lanthimos, crafted a pretty looking movie around this premise, with beautiful cinematography, but he did so in detriment to the humor.  The film has a languid pace to it, making the ridiculousness feel like a chore, and that ultimately is what makes the movie fail.  It becomes pretentious because it never quite earns the huge artistic leaps that it attempts to take.  If the movie stuck with a cohesive tone either underlined the message of the film, or the artistic ambitions of the director, or the desire to cultivate an absurd world in which this story takes place, there might have been something here; and yet, nothing comes out of all that ambition.  But, maybe pretentious could be too strong a word to label this movie.  I don’t know what the director’s ultimate intent was, but the result feels too much like art for arts-sake.  But, it could have just been because this movie didn’t connect with me like Swiss Army Man did.  Swiss Army Man has it’s pretentious moments too (including existential soliloquies by it’s characters, and rhythmic montages that don’t really add anything, and a completely baffling finale) but they didn’t spoil the experience for me.  Man balances it’s art with story, while Lobster let’s the art overwhelm everything else.

It’s an occurrence you see a lot within the artistic community; where there becomes a disconnect between the artist and the viewer.  Sometimes it’ll take a while for a piece of art to connect with it’s audience, and then there are other times when no connection will be made at all.  The most dangerous thing for an artist to do is think that what they make is for their own indulgence.  Movies should have a broad appeal, because it’s the only thing that justifies their creation in the end.  You take an audience’s reaction for granted and you open yourself up to failure.  But, pretentious film-making isn’t usually characteristic of most independent film-making; if anything, pretension more often comes from established, mainstream artists.  The Wachowskis for instance have made what I consider some of the most pretentious films in recent memory; and they accomplished this through big studio backing.  The Matrix (1999) managed to be that rare box office hit that kept it’s philosophical musings and crowd pleasing action sequences in a nice balance, because both were delivered with an earnestness that kept everything interesting.  But the novelty wore off in the sequels, and The Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions (both 2003) collapsed under the lack of cohesion, and both the action and philosophical elements lost their power due to the Wachowskis desire to show off instead of reinvent their franchise.  They have continued down this road with muddled messes like Speed Racer (2008) and Jupiter Ascending (2015), movies that never become as profound or as thrilling as the Wachowskis seem to think they’ll be.  The films of M. Night Shaymalan also come to mind, where it seems like the filmmaker is holding the audience at a distance while trying to make his narrative hit the mark that he believes it should make.  And action filmmakers Roland Emmerich and Zack Snyder are achieving new levels of pretentiousness as they make films that believe they are provocative, but are really just stupid.

But, should a filmmaker compromise their vision in order to avoid appearing pretentious and find broader appeal.  Not at all.  The thing that will help a filmmaker out the most in the industry is to find their own unique voice.  Some audiences will accept something odd and unique at their local theater if they already are familiar with the person or people that make it.  Some independent filmmakers luck out whenever their unique style clicks with an audience, and it helps them gain a little more ease when attempting to make films their own way.  A really unique voice to rise and mature out of the independent field would be someone like Wes Anderson.  Anderson’s style is unlike any other in film-making, and easy to define, and has changed little since his early days.  And still, it’s understandable if his style doesn’t click with everyone, but the man has earned enough trust with his audience to where he has a sizable fan base that will allow him to make whatever he wants to.  His confidence in his art has allowed his movies to avoid the pitfalls of pretension, even though his overly artistic style could easily fall that way if he ever took it for granted and choose to just repeat himself over and over again.  A fundamental understanding of a person’s own artistic limits and their skills to tell a story are essential for becoming a success.  I think that’s one of the things that separates the amateurs from the professionals, and why a good film education is needed.  I had my own film school experience, and it showed me how knowledge of the medium would give my fellow students the much needed balance that they would need to make movies that would work.  Any person can point and shoot a camera, but a film education teaches you how to pace, compose, and edit a scene, making what you shoot all the more potent in the end.

But what a filmmaker must also realize is that their artistic style is also prone to evolving into pretension if not experimented with.  The best filmmakers have their own style, but they also change their styles slightly to fit with the times.  Picking the right subjects for your future projects makes all the difference.  Some filmmakers make the mistake of relying too heavily on their styles, forcing them into story-lines where it doesn’t fit.  This is a problem that I see with someone like Terrence Malick.  He famously took a nearly 30 year break from film-making, only to return in the late 90’s with the war epic, The Thin Red Line (1998).  Since then, he has been consistently turning out ambitious, but overly poetic dramas, each one more dense than the last.  His style basically involves a free flowing narrative with his characters expressing their emotions in dubbed over narration that often sounds like their reading poetry.  Interesting enough, his style works best when it’s put into unexpected places, like a World War II setting in The Thin Red Line, or pre-colonial America in The New World (2005).  But since these epics, he’s focused his style on examinations of American life, whether it’s post-War suburbia in The Tree of Life (2011), the contemporary American Midwest in To the Wonder (2013) or the glitziness of Hollywood in Knight of Cups (2016) and his style has lost much of it’s appeal in the process.  While before he was reinventing different genres with his unique voice, now he is repeating himself with too many similar narratives, and his style now feels minimized as a result.  His last three films are pretentious, because they say noting that Malick hasn’t already said before and are just are for the sake of art; beautiful as they may be.  Filmmakers of the same ilk as Malick, like David Lynch or Stanley Kubrick have similar uncompromising styles, but they made them work over longer periods by applying them to different things; whether it be different genres or narrative structures.  It’s how they’ve avoided the pitfalls of pretension that Malick has sadly found himself within.

Overall, we as an audience must decide what is deemed pretentious and what is not, and ultimately, we probably will never find a full consensus of what that actually means.  We do know pretentious when we see it, but sometimes a pretentious piece of art may actually be something we appreciate, while for others it will remain garbage.  I certainly responded the former way to Swiss Army Man, even though I do acknowledge that it will not be for everyone.  Hell, the movie rubbed some people the wrong way right from the moment it premiered at Sundance Film Festival, where audience members at the prestigious event even walked out; probably put off by the seemingly sophomoric flatulence humor.  But, there were others like me that responded well enough and it got the buzz that it deserves to receive a big enough release (no pun intended).  The Lobster on the other hand left me underwhelmed because it was quirky without the emotional drive needed for me to care.  That being said, many other critics have praised the film for it’s uniqueness, and I can understand that response as well.  Surreal movies that defy easy explanation are necessary for the film industry, because they allow for new ideas and techniques to take hold in the medium.  It takes earnestness in the project itself and a willingness to make it appealing that ultimately decides whether or not it will connect with it’s audience.  Also, trust the intelligence of your audience.  If you go too far artistically, or make your themes too heavy or not heavy enough for the narrative to carry, than the audience will reject your work.  It’s the story that ultimately matters most in the end, and a commitment to that can allow for any of the insane things that you attach onto it.  Believe me, I’ve seen some weird things on the movie screen over the years.  Some of it may drive people away, but if you commit to seeing it through to the end, then you’ll know for sure if it escapes the pitfall of pretension and achieves what it’s maker wanted, and it could be the movie that can possibly change cinema forever.

I won’t pretend that I have the fullest insight into what the film critic profession is all about.  I write this blog mostly for my own expression and I’m grateful to the handful of you who take time out of your day to read my opinions.  But, I also run this by myself and fund my own way; meaning I still buy my own tickets and attend events along with the rest of the general public.  Professional film critics have the privileges of private screenings and press passes that give them special access and that is just part of how the business works.  Those who have a wider base of readers have the special access, and that’s how it should be.  But, in the end, what matters most is that a person is allowed to express their opinion about a movie whether they write for a major publication, publish their own private blog (like me), or are just giving a rating on their Flixster app or Cinemascore after leaving the theater.  And that’s the sign of a healthy interaction between the consumer and the people making the movies; the fact that public reactions matter.  But, for as long as there has been film-making, there has also been the presence of film critics, and the relationship has not always been a comfy one.  In fact, the interaction between Hollywood and the film criticism world can be a schizophrenic one where at times the studios go out of their way to highlight critical praise for their films (critical quotes often being used on trade ads for example) and then there are other times when the studios try to circumvent the opinions of the critics when they are seen as negative.  For the most part, audiences can take or leave a critics opinion depending on what they’re interested in seeing, but an unfiltered critical expression is still important to have in today’s society.  But, that’s a right that’s also abused and attacked in some dangerous ways as well.

Recently there has been controversy surrounding the reception given to the new Ghostbusters remake.  Because of the change in casting, making the titular team all female instead of male, there has been a complaint by the filmmakers who made it saying that criticism of their movie is due to sexism.  In particular, Paul Feig, the director, revealed hateful backlash that he’s received on social media, as he stated in a recent report.  And while it’s true, the internet and especially social media can be terribly sexist towards women, it shouldn’t also be lumped together with legit complaints about the movie.  I for one am not happy with the upcoming film, as I’ve made clear before, but my complaint has more to do with the fact that I think that this is a shameless cash-grab by a studio and not a earnest comedy project like past Ghostbusters were.  And yet, the specter of accusation over a supposed misogynistic bias against the movie has totally clouded the discussion of the film and it seems that anyone who now has to review it must also watch what they say.  Feig may be genuine about his concerns, but I feel that some of this controversy has been drummed up by Sony Pictures (the studio behind the movie) as a way to safe guard themselves against negative reviews.  It makes it much easier for them to wade their way through critical reception if they can simply say that all the naysayers against their film are speaking from a sexist point of view.  This is a dangerous misuse of legitimate issues purely for a self-serving purpose and it tells me right away, without having seen the movie, that it will indeed be bad.  The studio has become defensive and they’re willing to marginalize their critics.

Of course, the misuse of critical opinion has also factored into this story as well.  The sad reality of media today is that it’s so heavily intertwined with social media and that now anybody can have their opinion heard; even the dumbest among us.  For someone to have such a narrow minded reaction to the gender swapping of characters in Ghostbusters is really hitting a low bar for film criticism.  This and the fact that many of these same trolls are so rabid with their opinions and will harass the filmmakers regardless of the end result is also a sickening aspect in our culture.  But, we are a society that can’t censor someone for just having an opinion.  Unfortunately, these idiots cast a bad light on the rest of us film critics, and it is what Hollywood is increasingly trying to spotlight as the state of film criticism in today’s media.   The broad span of opinions on the internet has created this load mess of things in the critical world and the thing that gets lost in the shuffle is the sense of trust from those on the outside just looking for some guidance.   Audiences look to critics for helpful opinions, but when a few bad apples give out thoughts that are so off-putting, it makes the whole critical world look foolish and less trustworthy.  And that’s when the studios can trick the public into thinking that critical opinion doesn’t matter and that they are the ones worth listening to.  Now, I don’t honestly think that every studio is trying to eliminate criticism altogether; they certainly need critical praise for marketing purposes.  But when a studio is pointing a finger at the critical community saying that it is poisonous as a way to avoid negative reaction for itself, there becomes a dangerous tilt toward suppressing dissent in our culture.

Sadly, the horrible opinions found on social media are all too common, and they are really not a good indicator of what film criticism can be.  Film criticism is much more than just a simple star rating or a twist of the thumb up or down.  In fact, some of the greatest examples of film criticism that we’ve ever seen have not been on any webpage or newspaper column, but in film essays written over the years by scholars and students alike.  That’s what I learned from my years in film studies, and this blog where I give editorials in addition to reviews is a manifestation of this philosophy.  Film critics don’t just react to a movie; they deconstruct them as well.  A great film analysis often looks at movies beyond whether it is good or bad and makes you think of the larger issues inherent within the content itself.  There are so many different ways you can read a movie, and these criticisms all have their own classifications; structuralist, post-structuralist, deconstructionist, humanist reading, feminist reading, queer reading, class reading, auteurism, the list goes on.  This is film criticism as an art-form and it can be accomplished by anyone who takes a strong critical stance on something and is able to back up their opinions.  When film criticism is intellectually stimulating, that’s when it’s able to broaden an appreciation of the art-form itself.  Film journals like Sights and Sounds as well as trade magazines like Empire and Entertainment Weekly all understand that opinion pieces are a valuable part of their business and they include them as part of their publications.  It’s an important aspect of the film industry to inspire a thoughtful look into the world of cinema, because entertainment without purpose has no long lasting impact in our society.

So, how do you discern the good criticism from the bad.  Well, first of all it should be obvious that everyone is entitled to their opinion.  But, when it comes to expressing that opinion, a person should take into account their ability to back it up with facts.  This is especially important for those of us who write our reviews for public digestion.  You can’t just simply say you hated or loved a movie and just stop at that.  People want to know the reason why.  Think deeply about exactly what drove you towards your opinion.  And it can’t be stressed enough; have some knowledge about what you are talking about.  I know I’ve been guilty of prejudging things before I see them (I was especially wrong about Edge of Tomorrow), but when I set out to critique something, I try to give it a fair examination before I tear it apart.  It helps to look at some of the positives first before going into the negatives, and this is a good way to gauge how your ultimate reading of a film will turn out.  Every bad movie has a silver lining and every great film has some nagging nitpick that prevents it from reaching perfection, and it’s finding those interesting distinctions found in each that helps to craft an interesting film analysis.  It at least helps to make the reader feel more informed as they take your critique in.  Distilling a film criticism down to a simple good or bad is not worthwhile criticism because no movie is ever that simple.  So anyone who looks at the opinions given on social media and sees that as legitimate film criticism clearly doesn’t understand the medium.  And yet, social media is carrying more weight in the critical world now than it really should be.

Much like in the realms of politics and sciences, it’s better to listen to people who actually sound like they know what they are talking about rather than just the random person talking nonsense on the internet.  I know that I am just another random person to some people, but I try my best to sound informed.  Not that you have to be a scholar in all things in order to be able to speak you mind online, but just know that when you opinion matters, you better not abuse that authority by spreading nonsense out there.  What I often recommend is that people should read up on all sorts of film criticism from multiple points of view in order to gain a different appreciation for the medium as a whole.  If there is a film you love, read what a negative review had to say and discern from it why you disagree.   Your defense may actually teach you something new you never realized about a movie.  I especially like looking at how a historical context informed the creation of a movie and how the reception of a film changes over time.  Looking at film criticisms from years ago is also interesting.  Some of the most interesting essays written about the subject of film culture have come from legendary film critics like Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert, and their writing often gives cultural perspective on a movie’s significance as well as judging it based on it’s quality.  Constructive film criticism even finds it’s way into film-making too .  Cahiers du Cinema, a French film journal, included contributions from critics like Jean Luc-Godard and Francois Truffaut, who were so driven by their opinions on cinema that they began to make movies themselves.  And the movies they tuned out were self reflexive and movie reference heavy such as Breathless (1960) and The Last Metro (1980), which helped to create what we now know as the French New Wave.  Other self-knowing cinematic films like Robert Altman’s The Player (1992) or the Coen Brother’s recent Hail Caesar (2016) also play with this idea of dissecting and critiquing the art of film within the medium itself and it shows the positive effect that criticism can have on movies as an art-form overall.

But, criticism can be a movie’s worst nightmare and that’s why there’s the often tumultuous relationship that Hollywood has with it.  Film criticism is a powerful tool in the industry, and it’s one that they fear when it turns against them.  Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert hit a cultural touchstone when they patented their thumbs up or down meter for grading a movie.  The thumbs rating proved to be so effective that it became a part of the culture.  Soon, it became common to see a movie promote in their advertisements that they received “two thumbs up.”  Though not uncommon in Hollywood’s past, this use of critical praise within a movie’s promotion became much more prevalent, especially with the rise of home entertainment, where critical reviews became just as common on the box art.  At the same time, Hollywood tried other ways to work this to their advantage.  Siskel and Ebert were too independent in their profession, and their votes were hard to sway, but there were many other attempts to coax better critical reception for a movie made within the industry.  Sometimes this would include highlighting the most obscure critic out there just because they were the lone positive voice in a sea of negativity, or sometimes a critical statement would be taken out of context and re-purposed to make it sound like a positive review.   And then there was the scandal of David Manning, a film critic completely fabricated by a major studio just for the purpose of positive reviews, and was later exposed as fraudulent.  All of this shows us why an informed and independent critical forum matters in our society, because without it, an audience can be easily manipulated into believing the wrong thing.

That is why I believe it to be dangerously self-serving on Sony’s part to be dismissive of the critical reaction to their Ghostbusters remake.  Yes there are some idiots complaining about gender on social media, but there are just as many if not more genuine arguments to be made about the movie as well.  Now there’s nothing that can be done to stop the movie now; it’s in the can and ready to premiere, and at after that point all the complaints beforehand will be moot when we finally see what the end result will be, good or bad.  But, what I believe is that things aren’t looking good for your movie when you choose to brush away complaints by labeling them all as a misogynist conspiracy against your film.  Marginalizing a critical community and making them feel afraid to give a honest opinion for fear of being labeled sexist is a bad precedent to make.  My hope is that the critical community doesn’t lose focus and judges the movie fairly, but given the threat they face, I don’t know if the final verdicts given to the Ghostbusters remake will be as genuine as they should be.  If the studio succeeded at deflecting criticism with this as it’s tactic, it would be a disgustingly petty way to do it and a clear violation of the critical community’s freedom of speech.  Film critics need their independence to tackle a film without interference, and it would be a disservice to the medium as a whole to paint all of them into such a bad company as misogynists, even if a small minority of them are.  I value film criticism as a valuable tool in the appreciation of film art as a whole and anything that would taint that as a means to avoid negative press would be a terrible mistake to make.  Film critics can be wrong, they can even go too far sometimes, but they should also never be afraid to say whether or not they loved or hated, hated, hated a movie.

One thing that you can always use to describe a summer movies is big.  Big action, big names, big effects; all that.  But, what most audiences tend to ignore as they watch a movie in the theater is the big cost attached to making a big movie.  Now, that’s not necessarily a bad thing for most film companies.  It works to a films advantage sometimes when no one is taking notice of a movie’s budget, because sometimes filmmakers don’t want the public to know.  It’s not that they want to hide something shady in a films budget; it’s just that depending on the movie that’s being made, it’s better for the film to not look like it was over-budgeted for the necessities of their story.  There’s a stigma in the film industry related to movies that are too expensive, and it’s a kind of bad press that filmmakers would like to avoid.  It’s a kind of bad press that may not affect an audiences perception, but it does affect one’s standing in the industry.  But, this is a worry that is becoming increasingly prevalent in Hollywood as the nature of the business is changing.  Cinemas are now having to compete with streaming services and alternate forms of entertainment and that has caused many film studios to up their game by taking bigger gambles.  Some gambles pay off, but many others don’t, and those failures tend to overwhelm the rest because they generate negative press, which industry journalists love to report on and dissect.  Even still, investing in large scale film-making has it’s rewards alongside it’s faults, but few if any people in charge of investing in film view that as worth the risk.  The only thing that actually keeps the industry going at all is when expectations are exceeded, and that’s a result that only comes about through chance.

The very fact is that film-making is an expensive art-form.  Even a modest budget film today sports a eight digit figure price tag, and that’s seen as responsible.  But anyone who doesn’t work outside of Hollywood doesn’t see how movies can become so expensive.  Paying the salaries of the cast and crew takes up a significant amount, even when those salaries can sometimes be obscene based on the talent involved, but the vast majority of a film’s budget goes into the visual development and physical construction of a movie.  When a film calls for extravagance, it will be costly.  Now, if the studio believes in the project well enough, they will approve of the budget, believing that it’s worth the risk because they have faith in their audience.  But, a lot of factors can also cloud the judgement of the filmmakers and it ends up leading to movies that don’t match their expectations, becoming instead money traps that are out of their control.  Things like unforeseen accidents, clashing egos, and even the very fact that some filmmakers are out of touch with what their audience wants can all lead to films that fail and underwhelm at the box office, and it’s only then when the bad press about an out-of-control production begins to take hold.  That’s why so many film companies fall back on the safe and predictable; because they are more reliant.  However, for the film industry to survive, it cannot solely survive on small pieces; it needs to take risks in order to stay ahead in the game.  Unfortunately for them, risks are not an easy sell when you’re in the need for more money.

Perhaps the thing that causes the industry to take pause more often than not is when they see one of their own suffer a loss even in the face of overwhelming success.  Disney, for instance, just recently announced their quarterly earnings for the first quarter of the year, and they shocked the industry by declaring less than expected profits, even despite having a great start to 2016 season with successful movies like Zootopia and The Jungle Book, as well as the carry over box office of last year’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens.  Yet, that’s what happened; even Star Wars couldn’t stop Disney from losing money.  Now, of course the blame for this can’t be solely put on the film division alone.  Disney is a wide-spread multi-national corporation with their hands in all kinds of different industries; not just film.  What other media company do you know of that has their own cruise ship line?  Yet, when some part of the company begins to suffer, it drags the rest of the company down with it, and I’m sure that this is what will be happening to Disney in the short run.  They have already gutted their Interactive games division, and I’m sure their Motion Picture department will also see dramatic cuts.  At the same time, I don’t think that Disney will be stuck in the mire for long; I just hope this one bad quarter doesn’t lead them to doing something drastic.  In the long run, it has actually benefited Disney to take risks.   From Snow White to Pirates of the Caribbean, they have gambled and won many times over.  Even Disneyland looked like a foolish idea in it’s development, and now it’s the most visited theme park in the world.   But, at the same time, they are also the company behind Tron (1982), The Black Cauldron (1985), John Carter (2012), The Lone Ranger (2013), and Tomorrowland (2015); extravagant movies that even despite their quality all lost a huge amount of money for them.  In order to be the biggest media company in the world, you have to take big risks and in turn, your failures will look bigger as a result.

But, given their deep pockets and the strength of their brand, Disney will still prosper.  It doesn’t quite work out as well for smaller companies when they suffer a crushing box office failure.  There’s a long history in Hollywood of flash in the pan upstart companies that fell victim to their own success.  The independent market especially sees this a lot, when one company suddenly sees one gamble pay off big and then they squander their profits chasing after a chance to compete with the big studios.  This has been the case with companies like Orion Pictures, Miramax, and Revolution Studios.  You see a pattern with these companies where they start of big and then fade into obscurity or non existence; usually gobbled up by larger studios.  Golan/Globus’ own Cannon Pictures in fact still own the record for biggest money loser in Hollywood history with Cutthroat Island (1995), a costly gamble you can only find from a company working outside of the Hollywood system.  But, perhaps the biggest fall from grace ever witnessed in Hollywood would be the collapse of New Line Cinema.  New Line looked like it would be the first mini-major studio to climb to the next level in decades after huge, record-breaking success in the early 2000’s with the Austin Powers franchise as well as The Lord of the Rings trilogy.  But, some poor corporate choices, including not paying Peter Jackson his full share of the Rings profits which then led to a lawsuit, as well as costly gambles like The Golden Compass (2007) and New Line quickly fell into the red, eventually becoming swallowed up by Warner Brothers for a fraction of their initial worth only a few years prior.  It’s a sad reality when failure becomes more pronounced when you can less afford to tolerate them.  It takes a history of gambles paying off to let the occasional ones that don’t work go by unnoticed.  Sadly, independent companies remain in the position of having to suffer a loss in order for them to have any real shot.

But, why do so many films fall victim to bloated budgets.  Competition is the key factor.  When Hollywood smells money in the water, they chase after it feverishly, despite many of those same players being ill equipped to take on the challenge.  This is the case with many copycat films that arise after a breakout success.  But, for every Titanic (1997), there’s a Pearl Harbor (2001).  For every Gladiator (2000), there’s a Troy (2004); and so on.  The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005) was a rare copycat that succeeded in the wake of The Lord of the Rings, but it was a lucky one amid so many failures, and it too saw fleeting success in it’s follow-ups.  Suffice to say, just because one film achieved success doesn’t mean that it will translate across the board.  And yet, so many failures come out of this sometimes foolish attempt to make success repeat itself.  If there’s one thing that Hollywood has never been able to figure out is how to manage a fad.  Audiences tastes change rapidly, and what once looked like a sure bet a year ago will be old hat by the time the film is ready to be released.  The smart thing for Hollywood to do is to not look at one success and view that as the wave of the future.  There are few constants in Hollywood, one being adaptations of already established materials, hence why Comic Book movies have remained popular.  If Hollywood chooses to throw caution to the wind and try to capitalize too much on what’s popular now, then they run the risk of a short shelf life for their movies.  One risk that currently could prove troublesome for future films is the belief that R-rated content in a Superhero movie equals big money.  It may have worked for Deadpool, but that film was an exception.  What worked for it may not work for Superman, or Iron Man, or any other beloved superhero, and yet some naive studio exec will try to force the same formula into where it doesn’t belong and it will end up spoiling something good as a result.

Apart from competition, some films end up going over budget purely due to conflicting egos behind the scenes.  Sometimes it becomes too easy to point the finger at the director himself for letting a production get out of control, but it’s not always the case.  Sometimes it comes down to a lack of substance in the overall production, and the inability to recognize the problem early on.  There are some movies that you look at in retrospect and wonder why they went forward at all when they are flawed to their very core, and it’s usually because there were people involved who refused to pull the plug despite all the problems.  A movie like this usually starts out fine, but inadequate oversight by the producer or too many notes by the studio heads or a lack of control on the set by the director, and you’ve got a overblown mess that just hemorrhages money.  And where the egos compound the problem is when nobody wants to accept a share of the blame, preventing any of these problems from getting resolved.  A perfect example of this would be the comedy sequel Evan Almighty (2007).  The Jim Carrey comedic hit Bruce Almighty (2003), turned a profit and it was only natural for Universal Studios to want to explore sequel options.  Unfortunately, the premise was weak from the beginning (using Noah’s Ark as a reference point instead of the clever “power of God” premise of the original) and Jim Carrey refusing to return didn’t help as well.  The film eventually wrapped with a whopping $220 million price tag (the most ever for a comedy), and there was no way for it to possibly make up that budget, even if it matched the grosses of the original.  Egos got in the way of Wild Wild West (1999) as well.  We all know of producer Jon Peters’ obsession with giant spiders (thanks to Kevin Smith’s own insight after working with him), but why did it need to show up in a Western of all places costing untold millions in CGI effects.  It eventually tanked at the box office and became another in a long line of cautionary tales in Hollywood.  But, this was also a case where an ability to take some blame and cut losses early on could’ve saved some headaches down the road and instead, the egos of those involved just compounded the problem and turned what should’ve been simple films into monumental disasters.

A movie being too big for it’s own good can also be a factor in crating an unnecessary bloat of a film’s budget.  Now, Hollywood has benefited from showing off scale before.  Whether it be the sweeping vistas of a David Lean epic, or the majesty of James Cameron’s full-scale recreation of the Titanic, or the wonder of Peter Jackson’s visual extravagance in the special effects in The Lord of the Rings, going big has often paid off at the box office.  However, it also takes smart money management to make sure that these extravagances don’t overwhelm the rest of the budget, or at the very least get accounted for ahead of time.  It usually takes the most expert filmmakers to pull off extravagance without going over budget.  People like Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan have managed to deliver films that constantly put their budgets to work without worrying their studios, and the results speak for themselves.  As long as their projects are on time and on budget, then the studios that make them won’t balk at $150 million to make War of the Worlds (2005) or $190 million to make Inception (2010).  But, there are other cases where going big only led to unnecessary risks.  The floating atoll in Waterworld (1995) is a perfect example of throwing too much money behind a film that didn’t need it, because it was a costly set that was featured very briefly in a long movie, allowing the audience to see very little of the actual work put into it.  The same goes with the extravagant sets of Cleopatra (1963).  The money is there on screen, but are we engaged enough to even care.  If there is a risk to take, the filmmaker must ensure that it is worth every cent, and not every filmmaker has that ability.  Sometimes knowing the best way to use the money helps to keep the budget from going overboard.  Christopher Nolan has managed to do that by trying to capture as much as he can in camera before it’s handed over to visual effects.  Peter Jackson manages to do it by working almost entirely in house and shooting close to home in his native New Zealand.  Unfortunately, that’s a luxury that few other filmmakers are capable of having.

In the end, is it worth the risk of investing hundreds of millions of dollars into a movie.  In many ways, it’s very beneficial.  The higher budgeted a movie, the more likely it creates a lot of jobs for the crew and post production team.  A big budget is also beneficial for spurning innovation in the industry.  Would you believe that the single most expensive movie of the last decade wasn’t from Marvel, or Michael Bay, or from Christopher Nolan.  It was the movie Tangled (2010), an animated fairy tale from Disney which cost them $260 million to make.  The reason for that huge budget came from building the infrastructure needed to support it’s creation, like an updated and expanded animation facility, which has since been responsible for huge hits like Frozen (2013) and Zootopia (2016).  That’s an investment that paid off in the long run.  But, as we’ve seen, a failure to control an expanding budget causes some fractures that can’t be mended in the Hollywood system.  And this usually results from inexperience of people who are way in over their heads or from people who let their own egos get in the way.  When the fault falls on you for a failed, over-budget movie, it can even damage your future in the business.  The fall of filmmaker Michael Cimino after the failure of Heaven’s Gate (1980) is a perfect example.  The collapse of the visual effects industry also proved that cost overruns had long reaching consequences, as many of those studios shut their doors after pricing themselves too far.  In the long run, we do love it when Hollywood takes a risk and doesn’t rely too much on old tricks.  But, knowing the expense that each studio has to deal with every year with their entire slate of films, some of which they know ahead of time will fail, it does become understandable why some studios choose to be more careful with their money.

Cinema has never had a series of films that has touched the lives of so many people around the world as much as Star Wars has.  Since it’s premiere in the summer of 1977, George Lucas’ creation has gone on to become one of the most profitable and influential films in the last half century.  And it’s influence extends far beyond just the big screen.  With sequels, prequels, published extended universe novels as well as merchandise and product tie-ins, Star Wars has continued to remain relevant in our culture at large and will remain so for some time.  No other series has managed to cross the generations as well as it has, to the point where older audiences are now sharing their Star Wars memories with their grandchildren.  And it’s that broad appeal that has helped the series grow over the years and continue to find new stories to tell.  With the acquisition by Disney in 2012, Lucasfilm (the company behind the series) has promised to open the flood gates, not just continuing the beloved story that we all know, but expanding the broad scope of the universe to tell all kinds of new stories in the same setting.  This bold plan started off perfectly with the release of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), which is now the highest grossing film of all time domestically.  But, that was just the beginning.  Coming this December, we will be getting the first of the extended universe spin-offs in the form of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story.  The recently released teaser was universally praised (and rightly so), but it was also met with controversy, which unfortunately addressed an issue which shouldn’t be all that important in the first place; that being the gender of the main character.

The Rogue One teaser introduces us to Jyn Erso (played by Oscar nominee Felicity Jones from The Theory of Everything) a rebel spy who is recruited by the rebellion to help a band of rebel fighters steal the blueprint files for the Death Star away from the Imperial Forces of the evil Empire.  As we see in the trailer, Jyn is somewhat of an enigmatic figure who may or may not be the most trustworthy person for this task.  It’s an intriguing introduction for the character, and I for one am very interested in learning more about her and how she fits into the Star Wars universe.  And that’s a sentiment that’s shared by the vast majority of fans who are just excited to see more Star Wars anyway.  But, some people have foolishly complained online that Star Wars is making too many movies with female characters at it’s center, and that it’s a betrayal to the Star Wars franchise as they see it.  This is presumably in response to this movie coming on the heels of The Force Awakens, which also centered around the character Rey (played by Daisy Ridley), who’s also female.  The assumption that focusing on female protagonists is against what Star Wars is about is wrong on many levels.  For one thing, who says that Star Wars was only meant for boys?  There are just as many female Star Wars fans out there as male, and they’ve never once complained before about all the male heroes in the series.  Secondly, it doesn’t matter what gender the character is; it only matters what part they have to play in the narrative in this universe.  And thirdly, Star Wars hasn’t just suddenly awakened to the notion of gender equality in their narrative; it’s been a part of Star Wars from the very beginning and both The Force Awakens and Rogue One are continuations of that principle.  Jyn Erso and Rey aren’t just filling some gender mandate for the franchise; they are continuing the rich legacy set from the beginning by one Princess Leia.

Leia Organa of Alderaan holds a special place in the hearts of Star Wars fans, and it has more to do than with just her place in the story.  Leia was never your average damsel in distress, because not once in the story does she ever in distress.  She is fiesty, independent minded, resourceful, and above all else, a natural leader.  A lot of her personalty certainly derives from the equally independent minded actress playing her, Carrie Fisher, and her portrayal can’t be understated.  Up until the 1970’s, Science Fiction was not exactly a gender neutral genre in Hollywood.  For the most part, female characters were either potential victims of spaced-based monsters needing to be rescued by the hero, or the exotic object of desire that our hero aspires to claim for his own.  You can see a strongly minimized role for female characters in many B-movie Sci-Fi films of the 50’s, with many of them basically in there to scream as the giant monsters come their way.  And Science Fiction films that did center on a rebellious female character would usually turn them into the monster themselves like The Leech Woman (1960) or Attack of the 50ft. Woman (1958).  Basically, 50’s Sci-Fi reinforced outdated gender roles as opposed to breaking them and their rebellious 60’s counterparts didn’t help much either. 1968’s Barbarella did feature a female protagonist who was liberated, but mostly in a sexual sense, which merely just fetishised the sci-fi heroine in the end.  After all of these, Princess Leia was a huge step forward for the presence of a heroine in the Sci-Fi genre.  No longer would the girl be a bystander to the heroics of her male counterparts; she would stand out on her own and be the hero herself.

Of course, Star Wars (at least in the original trilogy) is Luke Skywalker’s heroic journey for the most part, but Leia carries a captivating arc of her own.  She’s a vital member of the rebellion against the empire, entrusted with delivering the secret plans for the Death Star to her base.  It is through her resourcefulness that the plans stay out of the hands of the villainous Darth Vader, who captures and imprisons her.  The remarkable thing about her character throughout the whole movie, which marked a big departure for female heroines in the overall genre to that point, is that not once does she feel helpless in the face of her predicament.  She’s defiant towards her enemy, even dissing her captor by saying “I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.”  Even being rescued gives her no pause, as she reacts sarcastically to her rescuer Luke by saying, “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?”  All this shows that she’s a woman who determines her own fate and is not waiting for her prince to sweep her off her feet.  And it’s not as if George Lucas set out to rewrite the books on how to create a compelling heroine in Science Fiction.  Leia is a product of her environment.  In a conflict between an Empire and a rebellion, a woman at it’s center would indeed be defiant and independent as well as resourceful, and that’s what makes her so appealing a character.  She plays a part in the story that only she can fill, and it’s far more complex than just filling a female quotient to the cast.  She’s on a mission just as much as Luke or Han Solo or any other male character.  So, by giving her that complex role, Lucas was able to change the Science Fiction heroine forever.

Leia would begin an era in science fiction that changed the role that female characters played in each story-line, though probably not by design.  Lucas merely made her equally important as her male counterparts because it was essential to the plot.  But, that simple act of elevating her purpose paved the way for Hollywood to accept more of a female presence in the genre.  The influence of Leia perhaps played a part in the casting of Sigourney Weaver in the role of Ripley in the classic Sci-Fi thriller Alien (1978).  Had Star Wars not been a success, I don’t believe Fox would have gone forward with Ridley Scott’s dark take on the genre, and had Leia not been such standout in the movie, I don’t think the studio would’ve comfortably gone with a heroine at the film’s center.  Amazingly, Ripley was originally written as a male character and it was only later that the decision was made to swap genders, with little to no change to the script.  That decision would propel the presence of female characters in the genre even further and through much of the 80’s, it became more frequent to see films with heroic women in big Hollywood productions, especially in the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres.  James Cameron in particular made the heroic female character archetype a special trademark of his writing style, with Sarah Connor of the Terminator series being one of Science Fiction’s most iconic characters, as well as one of it’s toughest.  Princess Leia may not have much in common with these other heroines, but her influence can be felt in a lot of them.  Had Leia not been such a hit with fans, female characters in the Science Fiction genre would probably be very different today.

At the same time, Star Wars doesn’t flaunt the fact that it’s rewriting gender roles into the genre.  When George Lucas wrote the character, I don’t think he had it in his mind to make a statement about gender politics.  His upbringing probably gave him a more progressive view of the role of women in society in general and it’s that worldview that just ended up being reflected in his creation of Leia.  Leia Organa is not written to represent the idealized, women’s lib poster child; she is just who she is and that’s what makes her essential to the story.  I think it would be a mistake to say that Leia only exists because of some greater statement on gender roles in society.  Certainly the women’s liberation movement came into it’s own around the time of Star Wars premiere, but I don’t see it reflected in the characterization of Leia.  The reason she stood out was because the genre itself had been stuck in the past and George Lucas was merely writing his story with a mindset caught up to the present.  Leia was both timely and timeless, and that accounts for her enduring appeal.  She was modern in design, but still belonged within the world of the setting.  I think it would have spoiled the character for her to have been too much of a winking gesture to the gender politics of the day, because that would have dated her character and limited her legacy.  Such a “white knight” gesture to female audiences would have diminished the film’s appeal too because it would have come across as cynical and disingenuous.  It nevertheless is beneficial to the series to have had an up to date sense of women’s roles in society and by making that an underlying subtext in the story, it has helped to make Star Wars both influential and revolutionary to audiences of all genders.

That legacy continues in the series, though not without some minor missteps.  Though I don’t think it was intended to be such a big deal, the Leia “slave girl” outfit has become a contentious point of interest for both female and male fans.  In Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (1983), Leia’s attempt to rescue Han Solo from the clutches of Jabba the Hutt results in her own capture, and she is forced to wear a revealing, gold-patted bikini outfit for Jabba’s pleasure.  For male fans, this turned Leia into a “sex idol” and many claim that this endeared her to them as their first big screen crush.  Meanwhile, female fans complained that this reduced Leia’s character to a sexual object and that it was a big step backward for the character.  There is merit to the last point, and it is sad to think that some only find Leia appealing because of this version of her.  But, at the same time, I don’t feel that the character was ruined by this either.  Story-wise, you can tell that Leia wears the costume under protest and her only satisfaction in the sequence is at the end is when she uses her own slave chain to choke the life out of Jabba.  Still, it’s unfortunate that a sensationalized aspect of the character’s overall story has turned into such a contentious point and that the progress made with regards to gender roles in the series was overwhelmed by the preoccupation over what Leia was wearing.  Honestly, it matters little how she dresses; she certainly was not any different a person in her slave outfit as she was with her bun-haired get-up in the first movie. But, doing this probably diminished the idea that gender roles were meant to be equal in this story-line, as the studio perhaps saw an opportunity to capitalize on a little sex appeal with their heroine.  This certainly didn’t help much in the prequel trilogy either, where Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman) is diminished in the story to just being a love interest and mother of Luke and Leia, as opposed to a genuine force in the story overall.

That is why I am glad to see more focus on female protagonists in the Star Wars franchise today, because it feels like a nod to the overall legacy of Princess Leia in the series.  It’s especially great to see Carrie Fisher return to the character as well, showing that this renewed focus has the full blessing of the one who started it.  I especially like the fact that having strong central female characters in Star Wars only feels natural at this point and that the large majority of Star Wars fans accept that fact.  Anyone who complains that Star Wars has too many girls in it and has been taken over by a feminist agenda clearly doesn’t understand Star Wars at all.  This has always been a part of the the franchise from the very beginning, and it all comes from George Lucas’ own choice to not reduce his heroine to strict gender constraints and instead make her an active force in the story.  Princess Leia is rightly held up as one of Hollywood’s most iconic heroines, and she has achieved that status by never compromising who she is, even when put into compromising situations.  How can you not love a character who tells her potential love interest that he’s a “scruffy looking nerf-herder.”  The fact that she’s still a present in this series today, handing off the reins to the new generation while still being the face of the Rebellion, is a treat for every Star Wars fan.  I also can’t wait to see the future Jedi training that awaits Rey in Episode VIII, as well as learning what intriguing role Jyn Erso plays in this universe.  I like the fact that Disney and Lucasfilm are choosing to put strong characterizations to the forefront and that the genders of the characters are becoming more of an afterthought.  It’s a reason why Star Wars is as relevant today as it was nearly 40 years ago, because it stays relevant with the times and values that we live in.  The force is still strong with the ladies of Star Wars, and may it forever be so.

When we watch movies, we for the most part accept it all as good escapist fun.  If the story is strong enough, and the characters are likable, then the movie will stand on it’s own.  But, we also must know that behind every story is a storyteller, and they have real lives of their own that sometimes turn out to be more compelling than fiction.  While the Hollywood industry is built around entertainment in storytelling, it’s also built around the ability to sell and promote talent as well.  Publicity, marketing, and celebrity journalism is just as much a part of Hollywood as actual production, and in some cases, they tend to outweigh the other costs in the long run.  Hollywood is just as involved in creating a positive fiction about itself than any of the films it produces.  For the most part, it’s not hard to see why.  When you are spending so much money making a movie, you want to create enough goodwill with the audiences to see a return on your investments, and that involves making sure that no bad press circles around your projects.  Most of the time, a film company can spin a good outlook on a troubled production, but one thing they have less control over is the behavior of the players involved, which can sometimes derail a project at the worst possible moment.  We tend to forget that some of the people in film-making are only human in the end, and like all humans they carry their own behavioral baggage.  The most professional of talent in Hollywood is usually able to separate work from real life, but there are others who have so much baggage, that it tends to overshadow the good work they do and as a result, it casts a bad light on everything else.

Hollywood has always had a longstanding battle against scandal and negative press.  Like many other high profile professions, Hollywood is held to a higher standards than normal.  Actors and filmmakers are considered role models to many in society and because of that, moral standards affect them more than usual.  Only politicians who work in government face as much scrutiny as celebrities do, but unfortunately for Hollywood, the press in their industry is far more intrusive and is less concerned with the consequences of invading the privacy of their subjects than their Beltway counterparts.  The sad thing is that the public feeds this animal more.  We concern ourselves far more with what’s going on in Tinseltown than we do with any other part of the world, and for the most part, it’s a whole lot of nothing.  But, sometimes the higher standards we hold celebrities to also exposes bad behavior that shouldn’t be tolerated at all and it causes us to question whether or not the person responsible is still worthy of our goodwill in the end.  For some, evidence points to the fact that there are some celebrities that are very bad people despite being very talented in front or behind the camera.  Usually it’s from a pattern of terrible acts or just committing an inexcusable crime in general, and despite the person’s attempts to undo their past deeds, it sadly casts a dark pallor over everything else that they do.  This also tends to be compounded by media that feeds on bad press.  In Hollywood, there is an unfortunate confluence between the work that people do and the way they live, and this often takes it’s toll on the art of film-making, because despite what a person does in the public eye, they still are capable of creating great art as part of their job.  So the question is raised, can an artist’s bad behavior really condemn the work that they do forever, or is it possible to separate the two?

What is interesting about the way we react to a celebrity’s bad behavior is that it tends to be a different reaction for different people.  Take for instance, some of the more recent celebrity controversies that have erupted in recent years.  A perfect example would be the string of incidents surrounding actor/director Mel Gibson.  When he self-financed his religious passion project The Passion of the Christ (2004), claims of antisemitism arose based on the reading of the shooting script used for the film, which the A-list star was able to escape partially due to his goodwill with audiences that he built up for years; and the movie became an overwhelming success.  Cut ahead a couple years and those rumors of Antisemitism became less rumored and more fact due to a drunken rant that the actor went on during an arrest for drunk driving (the infamous “Sugar Tits” incident).  He apologized, but the shiny veneer of his celebrity status was forever tarnished, because his bigoted statements were now publicly known.  Still, he hoped to revitalize his image through better roles and with the help of his close industry friends, but those efforts were again undone by his messy divorce and disastrous relationship with a new woman who also exposed more inflammatory statements in recorded tapes of their private conversations.  Of course there’s absolutely no doubt that Mel is responsible for his own downfall, but is everything he has done capable of making him un-hire-able in Hollywood today?  For some people, that’s absolutely the case, and if they are repulsed by Mr. Gibson’s behavior, it’s within their right to reject him.  But, what about the close friends that still stand by him?  Are they in the wrong, or do they simply want to allow the talent that still exists within him to flourish and possibly give him a chance to redeem himself?  That’s ultimately the question we ask ourselves as an audience when we judge the movies and the man separately.

Gibson’s case is interesting because while what he has done is clearly wrong and bigoted, he at the same time has not broken any laws.  His only crime is acting like a narrow-minded jackass, something that he might even fess up to on his own.  But, is that something that makes everything he has done before and since toxic?  It asks us to consider if a piece of art is forever tied to the individual that made it.  That can all depend on the audience member who carries their own prejudices with them depending on how they view the individual.  I for one try to take perspective into account, and while I can’t excuse Mel Gibson for what he’s done, I’m still able to divorce his behavior from his work, because despite it all, he still makes great films.  Braveheart(1995) is still a favorite of mine and I believe he still deserves those Oscars.  The Passion is more of a mixed bag, but his follow-up Apocalypto (2006) is an astounding and underrated piece of film-making that does deserve a second look.  Also, bad behavior aside, I feel that he’s still capable of great things and I am eager to see what he’s capable of doing next.  In Hollywood, there sometimes comes a point where the industry is able to put a person’s past behind them, as has been the case with amazing career turnarounds like Robert Downey Jr.’s (who coincidentally is one of Mel’s longest friends) so there may come a day when that will happen to him too.  I think it’s been his string of bad choices that have compounded his situation, so it’s up to him to make the move towards redemption.  Certainly making good use of his talent will help, but we’ll need to see more of a public commitment out of him for it to seriously stick within the eyes of the audience.

More of a problem arises when a celebrity gets involved in an actual crime, and it’s in these cases where the opinion of the public matters in how well a person is able to recover, depending on the severity of the crime.  Sometimes the audience will show sympathy and allow the person to recover their status, like the aforementioned Robert Downey Jr. (drug possession), or to another extant Winona Ryder (shoplifting), both who committed punishable but not unforgivable crimes.  The harsher reactions tend to follow after more severe crimes, such as sexual or physical abuse perpetrated by the person.  In some of these cases, there seems to be different degrees that we’ll tolerate a persons personal life in opposition to how we’ll view their work on film.  Directors Woody Allen and Roman Polanski have both run up against this dilemma, with histories of sexual crimes coming to light in the press.  In Woody’s case they’ve been limited to accusations of child molestation (though not formally charged), but in Polanski’s case he has been convicted with the crime of statutory rape and in response, he’s fled the country and lived in exile in order to avoid jail time.  Despite how guilty both men may be, they continue to make movies to this day, and many of them are still quite good.  Polanski in fact won an Oscar for directing The Pianist (2002), but because of his self-imposed exile, he’s unable to claim it.  This presents the awkward dilemma of whether or not honoring a movie is right if the person who made it has done something incredibly unlawful.  For both Allen and Polanski, they’ve managed to stay relevant even despite the tarnish to their public image.  But, make no mistake, if the evidence proves misconduct on their part, their celebrity status should never shield them from facing punishment for the crimes they’ve committed.  And in the end, even if celebrity status does help them out of a jam, a lifetime of misdeeds will still ruin a person’s reputation for eternity, as we’re seeing unfold right now in the case of Bill Cosby.

With regards to whether or not we should honor a person’s film despite their misdeeds, the answer should always be yes.  And that’s because film-making is a collaborative art.  The director has the most influence, of course, but there are hundreds of people who have a hand in the making of a movie, and dismissing a movie just because of something bad that one person involved had done outside of work would be doing a disservice to everyone else.  Some people were wondering whether the accusations against Woody Allen would hurt actress Cate Blanchett’s chances of winning an Oscar that year for appearing in Allen’s film Blue Jasmine (2013).  It didn’t, she still won and she thanked him personally in her acceptance speech, even despite the controversy.  I believe that it’s that belief that a film is more than just the vision of it’s director and instead a collaboration of many talented efforts that enables us to accept art on it’s own merits.  Film history is full of examples where influential art often comes with less than ideal baggage attached to them.  D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation wrote the language of modern cinema that we still adhere to today, but we also have to live with the fact that the same movie was a piece of racist propaganda that made the Ku Klux Klan look heroic.  The works of Sergei Eisenstein and Leni Reifenstahl also represent great artistic advances in film-making, but their films were also in the service of promoting horribly brutal dictatorships at the same time.  Even the many wartime propaganda films that were sometimes made by some of our greatest filmmakers (John Ford, George Stevens, and John Huston for example) often come across as xenophobic in attitude when taken out of context of their period.  Attitudes change over time, but celluloid remains constant, and not every artistic expression ages well.  Still, we have the ability to discern the craft from the intent, as well the cloud around their creators, and be able to respect the creation while not wholeheartedly embracing everything about it.

The worst thing that we can do is to standardize morality around art in order to prevent a shadow of controversy from surrounding it.  Sometimes controversy can be a good thing for a work of art, as long as it generates discussion.  Sadly, many can’t accept anything that challenges their world views and that leads to acts of censorship.  This has always been a struggle for Hollywood, and for the most part they’ve managed to keep outside influences from imposing their morality upon them.  Still, a self-policed standard in Hollywood has led to unfortunate overreaches by the industry, including the restrictive Hays Code that they were pressured to adopt by religious organizations, or the even more intrusive Blacklist that was created in response to the House on Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) led by Senator Joseph McCarthy.  The Blacklist was especially destructive because it put good people out of work simply for their political beliefs, or their refusal to cooperate with the committee.  This is a case where a standardized code in place to avoid controversy only creates a worst atmosphere for the industry.  Hollywood believed they were doing the right thing for itself by avoiding the cloud of controversy, but with such an unfair overreaction that put a lot of people out of work, Hollywood only made themselves look weak and untrustworthy as a result.  And the unfair standards that they’ve place on themselves wasn’t just limited to political controversies.  Actress Ingrid Bergman was forced into exile for many years because of the revelation of her adulterous affair with director Roberto Roselinni, which kept the Hollywood icon out of the limelight for many years.  Again, no one would ever have judged a person’s work in film any different had Hollywood not brought attention to it with such reactionary aversion to anything controversial.  As time goes on, we can see that tabloid scandal has a much shorter shelf-life than the work of a true artist and that censorship is not a practice that helps to secure a good audience reaction over time.

Despite the tight controls that the industry puts on it’s talent, it’s ultimately up to the audience to decide if the final product is worthy of attention or not.  Certainly, it’s hard to ignore the real life drama of an entertainer’s exploits outside of work, especially when the Hollywood press makes such a big deal out of it.  But, at the same time, a movie should be able to stand on it’s own; by it’s own merits even if it includes the involvement of some very unsavory people.  There is still value in a well told story crafted with bold artistic choices.  Despite what I think about people like Mel Gibson, Woody Allen, Roman Polanski, and other controversial figures, I am still interested in watching their films, because they are still capable of putting effort into their art.  The ones that I actually hold more disdain for me in the industry are people who have just gotten lazy and put little effort into their work, instead just coasting by on their fame.  And that seems to be what really makes someone undesirable in Hollywood; being unlikable to the point where no one wants to work for them.  Gibson, Allen, and Polanski may have done bad things in their life, but they are at least professionals when they’re on the set and that’s why people still want to work with them.  If you’re a bully on set who demands too much, as has been rumored with filmmakers like David O. Russell and Jason Reitman, or are a self-absorbed narcissist such as been reported with actors like Shia LaBeouf and Kathrine Heigl, then you begin to see a pattern where the person gets fewer options given to them.  Even though it’s always hard to appear to be a good person, especially in the oppressive limelight of Hollywood, a commitment to making good art does go a long way and in the end, art can overcome the dark shadow cast by it’s creator by just being intriguing, thought-provoking, and overall entertaining in the end.  And in turn, a person may find redemption through the good work that they do.

We all go to the movies either for entertainment, or for escape.  The business requires a consistent flow of titles to choose from, and at the very least, they must hold our attention for an hour or more.  Given the complexities of production, it’s really a miracle of the industry that full length features have become the norm.  Anyone in the film industry will tell you that it’s a long process getting a film made, and the fact that they have to produce a minimum of 90 minutes of content that feels cohesive is quite daunting every time they do it.  It’s probably why full length features are the most valued form of entertainment made today, and it’s not an undeserving distinction to have.  But, what does that say for a different kind of market that specializes in shorter, more compact films.  The Short Movie market is somewhat undervalued in the film industry compared to it’s bigger counterpart.  They are usually little seen by the public at large and really only get spotlighted at the various festival screening or rediscovered many years later in some university’s video library.  Sadly, this leads to a reputation that Short films are worthless in the grand scheme of things and are better left out of the conversation when discussing the extensive work done by filmmakers and actors.  But, I would argue that Short films are not just worthy of the spotlight, but are even more deserving of praise than most full length films.  In Short Films, you see an exciting burst of creativity and experimentation that is rarely seen in Hollywood today, and that’s why they are much more than the scant few minutes in total that they run.

We all know the kinds of movies that we classify as a short film.  These are the films that usually run a half hour or less, were made on a shoe-string budget, and tell an intimate and sometimes unusual story.  Because of these elements, short films have a decidedly non-Hollywood feel to them, and that partially contributes to the lack of prestige that they usually get.  The Academy Awards try their best to give some of these films their due, but even then, most people dismiss that part of the show as the “who cares” awards.  But, honestly, people should care.  If it were not for the hard work and thought put into these short movies, the big ones would cease to be relevant.  Many of the innovations made in cinema over the years got it’s start in short subject features, including advances in CGI technology and camera techniques, as well as being the incubator for rising talent both in front and behind the camera.  Some of the most successful filmmakers today got their start making short films before they advanced to feature length, and it’s usually the shorts themselves that propelled them forward.  Short films allow people a bit more freedom than what the industry allows and in this industry that is something that is valued highly among artists.  Not only that, but the short film market that runs through multiple channels like film festivals and streaming services also opens up the door to multiple diverse voices that normally would not be heard or seen in the more restrictive full length market.  So, while the movie going public might show apathy towards Short Films overall, these same movies could be among the most important made today, and should be valued more as a result.

Short films haven’t always been a niche market in Hollywood however.  For a time in it’s early history, short movies were just as common as the full length features.  When people went to the movies in the early days, they weren’t just paying for one film, but an entire program filled with newsreels, cartoons, and yes, even short subjects played along side their featured presentation.  The short movies (or two-reelers, as the industry called them) were not particularly geared for narrative purposes.  More often they were part of on-going series, either for light entertainment or for educational purposes.  This was the realm of the Three Stooges and Laurel & Hardy; vaudeville acts that allowed their patented routines to play out in quick, hilarious sketches.  Serials were also present in those days, allowing for on-going, feature length narratives to play out over several weeks, giving theaters an extra reason for repeat business with their audiences.  These films were popular, but far from unconventional.  More often than not they were cheap to make and were often taken for granted by the industry.  As long as they filled a program lineup at the movie theater, Hollywood cared little how they looked or sounded.  Once television took hold, viewing habits changed and the short film disappeared from the local theaters.  Over that time, a short film more or less evolved into the experimental, closed off market place that we know today: cut off from the machine of Hollywood and somewhat liberated at the same time.

There is one area of Short film that did remain a part of the Hollywood system, at least some of the time, and that’s the animated short industry.  Today, when we look at the short films that gain the most attention, it is usually the ones that are animated. In fact, the only time you will see an short feature shown in theaters across the country nowadays is when it’s attached to an animated film; a small little call back to the early days of theater programming.  Disney and Pixar are two animation giants that still practice this today, and it’s not hard to see why; both studios built their foundations on the success of their early shorts and would not be here had those been a failure.  In fact, both Disney and Pixar’s mascots are characters that were born and popularized out of short cartoons; Mickey Mouse for Disney and Luxo Jr. for Pixar.  But, it’s not just these giants that continue the practice of keeping short cartoons in the spotlight.  Dreamworks and Blue Sky have recently gone into the practice of promoting their upcoming features with introductory shorts released in advance, such as the “Scrat” shorts that are released in preparation of each upcoming Ice Age movie.  Animated shorts are also the best way for up-and-coming animators to make a name for themselves.  Aardman Studios gained notoriety in the stop-motion world through their critically acclaimed Creature Comforts (1987) and Wallace and Gromit shorts, long before they started making features.  And an independent animator named Don Hertzfeldt is making some of the boldest and unique films today solely with the use of hand drawn stick figures, such as his recently nominated World of Tomorrow (2015).  So, while short films have been closed off for the most part from the industry, it’s in the animation field that we see the most continued interaction and spotlight between the two markets.

But, that’s not to say that live action shorts have no connection with today’s film industry.  In fact, the short film market is where the filmmakers of the future are often cutting their teeth and finding their voice.  For many, the short form is where most filmmakers begin, either shooting home movies with their friends when they are young, or working with a collaborative team during their studying at film school.  Film school movies sometimes can feel like it’s own class of film in a sense, because it shows the filmmaker’s learning curve documented in bold experimentation.  If made available, many of you should check out as many student films as you can.  In them, you see how filmmakers, writers and actors that are still learning the trade make use of their limitations and tell their own story their own way.  Having gone through the film school experience myself, I saw first hand the value that a film short has in developing a filmmakers skill.  It teaches you how to manage a story due to the shortened time frame, makes you rethink the stories you want to tell and find new avenues to present them, and above all, it teaches you how to manage expectations.  Sometimes an idea might be too big to contain in a short, but small ideas can also expand beyond what was these limitations as well.  Sometimes we see student filmmakers turn their shorts into features after making a name for themselves, sometimes based on their own works from school.  Fresh new filmmaker Damien Chazelle took his low budget short Whiplash and turned it into an Oscar-winning feature.  Neill Blomkamp likewise took his experimental, resume builder Alive in Joburg (2005) and expanded it into the box office hit District 9 (2009).  So, short films can often be the place where small beginnings can turn into huge possibilities.

And that’s why Short films tend to be where you see the most exciting and diverse stories told on film today.  Looking at the live action shorts nominated this year at the Oscars, you see a wide array of stories told, some that Hollywood itself seems to shy away from too often.  You have Ave Maria, a culture clash comedy set in one of the most war torn areas of the world (the West Bank); Shok, a story about two boys caught up in the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo during the 90’s; Everything Will Be Okay, a story about child abduction told through the eyes of the abducted child; Stutterer, a story about a man who is unable to express himself because of his speech impediment; and Day One, the story of a female interpreter for the US Army starting her first ever tour in  Afghanistan.  And these were only the five finalists selected out of the many that were eligible for the Academy Award.  I try to watch all the nominated shorts every year and it always strikes me how these films are so unafraid to tackle harder issues in a subdued and honest way, as compared to the way that Hollywood would take these issues on.   Perhaps it’s the independent nature of the market that allows for the creative freedom, but the amazing thing I always find is the boldness of the stories told.  These are films made by filmmakers who clearly believe in what they are doing.  They are not cynical or commercial; they are the kinds of movies that make us think afterwards.  And in these shorts, we see the ultimate purpose that all filmmakers want to have, which is to tell stories that matter.  They don’t always have to have a message, but they still need to resonate and that comes out of a full investment on the part of the storyteller.  That’s why I often look at the Shorts as a film-making safe haven, where the industry nonsense is stripped away allowing pure film-making to blossom.

But, at the same time, the short format is not entirely disregarded in the industry.  There are many avenues taken by filmmakers to work in a short film form, and its not always related to story.  Sometimes great film-making can rise out of little things like music videos and even commercials.  Yes, even these can be classified as short movies, though certainly worlds away from the awarded ones we see in film festivals and attached to full length features.  Though they come out of a different industry all together, music videos do require the same level of film-making skill behind them, and sometimes even require a more complex level of production.  While many filmmakers never rise out of the music video world, a couple have made a name for themselves in this market and have since developed into acclaimed filmmakers on their own.  Few remember this, but director David Fincher developed his very unique style while making music videos like Madonna’s Vogue and George Michael’s Freedom, long before he brought it to the big screen with movies like Seven (1995) and Fight Club (1999).  Spike Jonze likewise gained notoriety for his experimental videos for the Beastie Boys and Fatboy Slim, before Hollywood allowed him to make Being John Malkovich (1999).  Sometimes even established filmmakers can turn to these shorter experiments as a refresher for their own styles.  Michael Jackson was noteworthy for attracting big time filmmakers to make his music videos, like Martin Scorsese who directed his Bad video, or Francis Ford Coppola, who directed Captain EO, which played in Disney parks around the world.  And I’m sure that many of you probably never realize that some of the commercials that you watch everyday on TV had been crafted by the likes of the Coen Brothers or even David Lynch.  It shows that the short form is a highly valued format of storytelling for all filmmakers and is often where many of them find the freedom to try new things.

So, despite seeming small compared to their full length brothers, short movies should not be undervalued.  In many ways, it’s the short film market that enables the feature film industry to flourish at all.  In it, we see the emergence of new voices and well as new techniques, and the creative freedom to let these elements flourish.  Short films are certainly valued in some way by the industry, who do look at Shorts for inspiration or new talent, as well as venue for established pros to get experimental, but audiences still seem to disregard the short film format a little too much.  I don’t know if it’s because they view short films as not worth their time because in their eyes length means quality, or if because short films have just developed a reputation over time as being pretentious fare.  Yes, there are some short films that are a little full of themselves, but no more so than any other form of entertainment, especially full length features.  I think presentation has affected the way short films are viewed by the public over time.  Animated shorts are thankfully still widely seen, but that’s only because they have the benefit of their full length brethren to carry them.  Live action shorts don’t have that kind of support and are only seen when you seek them out.  Sadly, quite a few great shorts fall through the cracks and fade into obscurity.  One wishes that Hollywood would bring back the kind of programming that they used to have, but that is unlikely because viewing habits have changed.  For those who want to see the great short films that have yet to be discovered, there are many that have thankfully ended up on places like YouTube or Vimeo.  Itunes and other streaming services also make newer shorts more widely available as well.  And in the rare cases, I highly recommend trying to see these shorts on the big screen whenever possible.  Though short in length, these films do end up having a big impact, and it’s sometimes in some of the most unexpected ways.

When watching a movie, it’s easy to see all the many ingredients that go into making the story come to life.   Engaging dialogue from a tightly written screenplay, standout performances from the committed actors, and a vision from the director that helps to make the scene feel as authentic as possible.  But, there’s another ingredient thrown into the mix that doesn’t quite capture the intention of the viewer yet it’s the one thing that affects everything else in the finished product by the end.  That crucial ingredient is film edit.  Without the job of a proper edit, a story has no form or character.  It’s just images without reason.  Editing is what brings out the context of the images that we see and shows us how one thing can relate to another.  And, in the grand scheme of things, editing is probably the hardest job of all for a filmmaker.  While a lot of work goes into the writing and the filming of a story, it’s not until the post-production editing process that the filmmakers are able to find the story that they want to tell.  There, they are able to find the emotion through the contrasting of images or tension through the compression of time, and through that, they are able to get creative with the tools that are available to them.  But, strangely enough, the work of the editor is often unheralded, mainly due to the fact that in order for the editor to do their job well, their work must be made invisible to the viewer.  Unless otherwise made to be seen on purpose, essential film editing must work in service to the story and not overwhelm it, thereby causing many of us in the audience to take the work of an editor for granted.  But, in so many cases throughout film history, it’s been the excellent editing of a movie that causes it to stand out.

Now a lot of people probably think that it’s not that hard at all to edit together a movie.  All you need to do is to plan out your cuts ahead of time and follow the blueprint right?  It’s far more complicated than that.  For an editor to do their job, they must first analyze countless hours of footage, depending on the length of the feature.  Even with a scene mapped out in pre-production, the actual filming must take into account all the necessary coverage from multiple angles, as well as the multiple takes that will inevitably happen, since no one is ever satisfied with just one take.  And it’s from that pool of material that the editor must find the story, taking the best takes out of the mix from the best angles and piecing them together to make it feel like one whole piece.  Not only that, but they must be observant with every bit of footage, looking for continuity mistakes that may undermine the flow of the scene.  Lastly, they must also time their edits perfectly, making each cut feel natural and never abrupt; something that may even matter by only a frame or two.  And this is just the essentials for a practical editing job.  There’s a whole bunch of other tricks of the trade that an editor can use to take things in a more creative direction.  Overall, it’s time consuming and often tedious, but when you find the story forming in front of you, it can also be  rewarding and sometimes even surprising process.  I’ve been through it myself before, and it’s often the process where you see the clarity of what you’re creating come through.  Hell, when I was splicing together film stock as a projectionist a while ago, I could easily see the value of how a couple missing frames might affect the overall viewing experience.  It’s a highly precise art, yet one that must also always support everything else.

From the moment that cinema began, filmmakers have been tinkering around with editing.  The turn of the century often relied on single shot moments to showcase the medium, like a train arriving at a station or a vaudeville performer doing their act, but over time, some visionaries discovered how they could use the moving picture camera to tell a story.  Georges Melies created magnificent stories through fixed camera tableau like his 1902 classic A Trip to the Moon, that didn’t feature much in the way of editing shot to shot but did show that the process could be used in the service of other things like visual effects.  Simple editing remained the norm until American filmmaker D.W. Griffith pioneered the concept of cross-cutting images in service of the story.  With his epic scale production of The Birth of a Nation (1915), Griffith created a new film-making language, having different juxtaposed shots edited next to each other to underline a theme or connect multiple story-lines into one.  Every film since then has followed Griffith’s technique and it has become the standard of modern film editing.  Griffith not only broke ground with his first epic feature, but he would continue to push the medium further with his follow-up, Intolerance (1916), which took the bold step of cutting between four different unrelated story-lines, connected solely by their common themes, showing how far the process can go and still work.  What Griffith discovered was that an edit could convey meaning and it’s something that was explored even further by filmmakers in Soviet Russia.  For the propaganda films of the early Soviet Union, an editing process called montage was developed, which used a mix of images related to theme and edited them in a way to provoke a feeling out of the viewer.  The most famous example of this was the Odessa Steps scene in Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin, where the recreation of a massacre is given extra poignancy by the inclusion of a falling baby stroller amidst all the chaos.  Even in the days before dialogue, and perhaps more so, filmmakers saw the value of how editing could make their stories come to life.

Though extraordinary surprises could come out of an edit, Hollywood more or less standardized the language of editing around the time sound was introduced to the medium.  Filmmakers could use fancy editing techniques, such as in some of the lavish musical numbers found in Busby Berkeley productions, but the limitations of sound recording led to fewer innovations in the process.  Classic style cutting was the norm for many years, and was often effectively used.  Sometimes, filmmakers would get creative with their edits and used them to set up a punchline and pay it off (watch any Three Stooges short to see what I mean) or use their edits sparingly to immerse the audience into the moment (often seen in many tense one-shot mood setters from Alfred Hitchcock).  Montages were also effectively utilized in early Hollywood, mostly as a way to quickly show a passage of time rather than convey an emotion like the Soviets would do.  But, despite the lack of innovation in the art-form of editing, it didn’t mean that the classic style wasn’t used in meaningful ways during this time.  Just look at the final pivotal scene at the end of Casablanca (1943).  For that brief moment between the lines where Captain Rennault (Claude Rains) says to the Germans “Major Strasser has been shot” and “Round up the usual suspects,” we get two quick close-ups of Rennault and Rick (Humphrey Bogart) looking to one another, and then after the pivotal line, a quick pan across to show Rick smiling back.  It’s a simple but elegant moment that’s made entirely possible through editing, and in those two close ups we are told so much without any words spoken.  This is an example where just a basic editing style can effectively tell a story, and it showed that the standardized style did illustrate that artful editing can be found in the simplest of uses.

But, innovation did become more prevalent once editing tools became more advanced and reliable.  The French New Wave brought in new concepts like smash cutting, freeze frames, and slow-motion into the language of editing, and that in turn influenced the film editing styles in Hollywood.  It became an era where the filmmakers felt more comfortable showing the editing process on screen rather than hiding it.  Abrupt cuts between scenes were popularized in the films of Jean-Luc Goddard and Francois Truffaut, and it was adopted by some of the more counter-cultural filmmakers across the pond, because they felt that it gave their movies a grittier, more modern sensibility.  Even prestigious films picked up on the style.  You can credit that famous cut in Lawrence of Arabia (where Peter O’Toole blows out the match and it cuts to a sunrise) to the influence of the French New Wave.  While these processes were always available to filmmakers before, none had been spotlighted as much, and by taking full advantage of these different tools, the same filmmakers helped to increase the awareness of the value of editing in movies.  In many ways, it gave the audience a keen awareness of different styles that a movie can have, and it helped to differentiate how the movies of their era were different than those of the past.  Form then on, innovation in the editing process would underline the advancements of the industry as a whole.  We would see the character of a film or a cinematic movement come out of it’s editing process, whether it be the renegade style of editing from the maverick 70’s or the stripped back style of the indie movement of the late 80’s and early 90’s.  In many ways, a film was more or less dependent on how well it’s editor was in tune with their era, otherwise they would come across as two old-fashioned or too far ahead of their time.

For many years up to today, the director is often reliant more than ever on the work of their editor.  In the past, the editor would usually sit alone in their editing rooms and compile the films themselves and only get feedback later once their initial work is complete.  Now, the editor and the director work in tandem to hammer out an edit of the film, made much easier now that there is a digital intermediate to work with rather than having to re-splice the same film over and over again.  And it’s through this collaboration that a vision can come out of the project.  An editor may sometimes understand the value of a cut better than the director (who might be too protective of every shot they filmed) and their suggestions often help to reign in the story.  There have been many examples over the years of movies that were saved in the editing room after disastrous productions.  Star Wars is probably the most famous example.  Those who worked on George Lucas grand vision often were lost with regards to what they were doing and where the story was actually leading to, and some said that Lucas himself wasn’t entirely sure of what he was getting into.  But, thanks to an expert editing team (which included Marcia Lucas, George’s then wife), they somehow found the essence of the story and condensed it into the solid adventure that we know today.  Sadly, George Lucas has shown less restraint over the years, and we now know what a lack of controlled editing looks like in the Star Wars universe thanks to the prequels and Special Editions.  Apocalypse Now (1979) is another example of a movie saved by an imaginative edit, which paints a beautiful portrait out of what was a notoriously disastrous shoot.  No film is ever lost unless there is a smart, precise edit done to it.  I think that’s why so many directors often reuse the same editors on each film; they need someone they can trust.  Every Spielberg production has seen the dutiful hands of Michael Kahn on it, as has almost every Scorsese pic with Thelma Schoonmaker, and so on.  Sometimes, if you’re the Coen Brothers or Steven Soderbergh, the edit becomes an entirely singular operation too.  Overall, the final character of the film is determined mostly by how well the editor and the director collaborate together.

But, not every collaboration leads to golden results.  Sometimes, a movie is often hindered by a sometimes overzealous editing job.  This has become especially problematic in the era of MTV music videos and quick paced commercials on television that we’ve now been accustomed to.  Many up and coming filmmakers make the wrong assumption that the more editing they use in their movies the better, because it gives their work a grittier, more frantic style.  Unfortunately, quick editing does more to disorient the viewer than it does to engage them into the film.  While it works for some films, like a war picture or a documentary style drama, it can often feel out of place in most anything else.  Editing is meant to establish setting just as much as it is used to convey momentum and emotion to a scene.  If the edits are too wild and can’t focus on it’s subjects, then the audience feels disconnected from the moment.  I’ve complained about the style of Michael Bay a lot already, but his use of editing is a perfect example of this disorienting quick edit style that serves no purpose.  But, even more restrained editing can become obnoxious if misused in a movie.  Sometime filmmakers like to use montages and flashy editing as a way to create poetry in imagery, and it can often backfire and look pretentious as a result.  Even respected filmmakers like Gus Van Sant and Terrence Malick have developed just as many detractors as fans for sometimes getting too fancy with their lyrical editing.  Just look at the pointless long shots of nature in Van Sant’s Last Days (2005) or the showy, meandering editing of Malick’s To the Wonder (2013), and you’ll know what I mean.  Essentially, for an edit to work, there needs to be a purpose behind it, and not just to indulge the filmmaker’s desires.

The editing of a movie is more than anything where the story comes to life.  All the hard work on the production design, the cinematography, the acting, and the dialogue matters little unless it all colludes together as a whole in the editing room.  In the end, the editor’s job is often thankless, but ever so crucial, because they’re mostly responsible for creating the finished product that all of get to see and the success of their job relies on their work not being noticed by the viewer.  Thankfully, with films that celebrate the art of a good edit, we can at least see an editor’s hard work on display occasionally.  In the classic style, it’s always neat to see an edit put the perfect punchline on a well placed gag (Hitchcock’s famous train going into a tunnel innuendo from North by Northwest is a great example).  And in the maverick 60’s and 70’s, it was interesting to see the limits of the art-form explored.  But for me, what I love best about editing is the way that it shows how much even just a few frames of film matter.  There are some moments in movies (like Han Solo’s great surprise arrival at the Death Star late in Star Wars or the final haunting shot of Psycho with Norman’s face superimposed with a skull) that could have been spoiled if they went on just a second longer than they did.  Sometimes it comes down to the one single frame that makes the difference, which is staggering when you consider that 24 frames makes up only a second of film.  My hope is that every filmmaker approaches the editing process with a certain amount of understanding and respect that it deserves.  Play around with what you’re able to do, and you’ll find a completely different story than you might have expected going in.  Many pieces go into the making of a film, but the edit is what puts all those pieces into place and turns that puzzle into the whole picture in the end.

When Hollywood has a movie that is popular, then it’s a beloved asset.  If it’s a story that’s open enough for a sequel, even better.  Building a franchise, more than anything, is what the big studios strive for, because it guarantees them added revenue for years and decades to come.  The only problem is that not every story is well suited for a franchise.  Some movies are better as singular experiences with clear cut conclusions that leaves no loose threads dangling.  And yet, Hollywood will still try to squeeze every last bit of substance they can in order to stretch their success further.  Strangely enough, some of the movies in the last year have shown that with enough creativity and purpose, some franchises can live on and prosper, even after years of dormancy.  With the cases of Star Wars, Mad Max, or Rocky, we are now seeing franchises enter their seventh or fourth iterations, and come out of it even stronger than before.  Not only that, but these movies also make the bold assertion that there will be more to come later.  Of course, with some of these franchises, their continuation makes sense because it’s built into their base levels to be ongoing stories.  But, for that to work, the movies have to bank on the expectations of the audience that they’ll be willing to come back again and again.  And in some cases, when a film series is starting from scratch, it becomes a gamble to have your audiences expect more.  Sadly, some of the biggest misfires that Hollywood has ever made have come from the misguided attempts to build a franchise while forgetting to make the movies stand on their own.

Truth be told, this is far too often the result of having too much story for one movie.  Many franchises we see today are based off of works of literature, particularly the kinds that tell their stories over multiple volumes.  When the story is vast enough to guarantee enough plot for a lot more movies, then it appeals greatly to filmmakers interested in starting up a franchise.  But, when the translation happens, those same filmmakers have to take into account a few things; can they get away with telling only part of the story and is that something that’ll please their audience.  For most of these franchises, they all run into the same problem and that’s the opening film hurdle.  The first film in a franchise, especially one that is supposed to start off a planned series, is always the hardest film to make and it’s by far the one film in each series that makes or breaks the entire operation.  Within it, you must devote a huge amount of run-time purely to set up your main cast of characters, the world they live in, the special rules that pertain to said world, the stakes within, and if you’re lucky, hopefully there will be room for some plot as well.  For many wannabe franchises, this first film is often the stumbling block, just because an insane amount of exposition must be applied in order to set up what comes after.  Exposition is a valuable tool when writing a book and is generally accepted when readers come across it on the page, but in movies, it can often be monster.  When a movie stops to explain something, it grinds the film to a halt, thus making exposition a thing that most screenwriters and directors fear.  This is what defines the biggest problem with most opening films in franchises, and it sadly is what prevents many of them from ever finding their footing.

But, if a franchise does get over that hurdle, then it has a chance of succeeding.  And indeed, the best franchises we’ve seen over the years, at least the ones that come from literary sources, are the ones who managed to establish their worlds and characters successfully.  Once that hurdle has been conquered, then anything is possible and chances can finally be taken.  It was the situation that we saw play out a lot in the early to mid-2000’s when this idea of franchises built from multi-volume literary sources suddenly became the rage in the industry.  In 2001, we saw the start of two series that not only gambled and succeeded with their ambitious first features, but would also go on to set the template for the next decade in Hollywood.  These of course were the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings franchises.  Rings you could argue was the more successful because it was the better stand alone movie, but Potter did well enough at the box office to warrant it’s expected sequels and only later did it finds it’s footing with the sequels that took more chances.  But regardless of how good the first films were, the fact that they succeeded allowed for the franchise to breath a little easier going forward.  Rings and Potter improved as they went along, but, they had to gain the trust of their audiences in order to keep going.  That’s what made their opening films so crucial, because if the audience didn’t buy into the story from the start, what need would they have for it to continue.  Fortunately for Rings and Potter, they had the benefit of capable filmmakers behind them who believed in what they were doing.  Most of the failed franchises weren’t so lucky.

Though a lot of franchises have come and gone over the decades, the 2000’s seemed to be an especially brutal one for “one and done” attempts at building a series.  Mostly, this was a result of many studios trying way too hard to ride the coattails of Rings and Potter.  Those films had the benefit of a built in base of support that saw them through their entire run, and the audiences were even rewarded with some better than expected results.  Other franchises failed because they made no effort to distinguish themselves and merely just tried to copy the formula that had come before.  Sadly, this happened too often to franchises that had potential, but were saddled with lame, amateurish productions.  A good example of this is something like Eragon (2005).  On the outside, this looked like a feature that embodied the same spirit and style of Lord of the Rings.  Written by wunderkind American fantasy writer Christopher Paolini, Eragon had all the makings of a great classic series; high production values, a stellar cast (Jeremy Irons, John Malkovich, Rachel Weisz), and a beloved source novel.  How could it possibly fail?  With lackluster direction and a 90-minute running time that stripped the story down to it’s bare bones; that’s how.  The movie was a cliche filled mess and it drove audiences away, mainly because there was nothing of interest for them to grab onto.  It was all plot and no heart.  Sadly, the lackluster adaptation stop any chance of the series continuing and all we have now is just the first stand alone film.  It probably failed because it added nothing to the fantasy genre that we already hadn’t seen.  Unfortunately, other franchises would likewise fall into the “one and done” pitfall despite having promise.  The quirkiness of Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004) should have helped it stand out, as well as the uniqueness of The Spiderwick Chronicles (2008) modern day American setting.  And yet, uninspired productions sank these franchises two before they could ever get themselves going.

On the plus side, many of these franchises smartly remembered that they were stand alone films in addition to being parts of a larger narrative.  The biggest mistake that a wannabe franchise can do is to leave itself open-ended, making the misguided assumption that the franchise will have legs beyond one feature.  Sadly, there have been many failed franchises that not only ended up with just one feature, but also ones that had that same one film feel incomplete.  Oddly enough, this is a practice that was following in the footsteps of a successful franchise that somehow worked to it’s own advantage.  In The Lord of the Ring: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), the movie left us with an open ending, with the main characters advancing towards the next stage of their journey.  While this was a gamble itself, director Peter Jackson somehow made this acceptable by working everything before feel like a logical conclusion to this phase in the story, allowing the tease at the end to feel more natural.  Unfortunately, not every continuing narrative has these nice and neat breaks to conclude an opening chapter.  Sadly, too many Rings wannabes tried to give themselves these teaser endings to get us excited for what’s next, and having it backfire.  Perhaps the worst attempt at this was a film called The Golden Compass (2007).  Based off the Phillip Pullman novels (which has often been described as Narnia for Atheists), The Golden Compass was New Line Cinema’s misguided attempt to create their own fantasy franchise in the same vein as Rings.  A convoluted adaptation followed and to make it even more infuriating, the movie thought it could conclude open-ended like Rings.  Unfortunately, because they picked a horrible place to cut the story off (which ignores a far more satisfying ending from the book) the movie just feels incomplete as a result instead of being a satisfying experience on it’s own.  This is a perfect example of how not to do a teaser ending, and is the primary reason why The Golden Compass‘ open ending remains so painfully awkward today.

This is perhaps the main reason these failed franchises feel so pathetic in the end; because we know that there is more story to be told and yet we’ll never get to see any of it on the big screen because the openings let us down.  The Golden Compass especially feels irritatingly hollow because it dared to think we’d be clammouring for more in the end, but did nothing to earn it.  But, some movies can get away with it by making each feature feel complete and avoid those ending teasers that only end up infuriating the audience.  Harry Potter had the benefit that each volume of it’s series more or less has it’s own story that only ends up tying together the further into the larger narrative you go.  If the first film, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer Stone (2001) failed and no more were made after, it could still stand on it’s own because the film’s plot was more or less a complete one.  In the end, all films must follow the same act structure as every other film, having a beginning, middle, and ending that all make sense.  Even stories that take in the center of a larger narrative and can get away with it.  Movies that just pick up or leave the story without context will only end up confusing their audience.  That’s what makes every individual Potter film work in the end; their individual narratives.  Some failed franchises withhold elements that could lift the drive of their individual plots in favor of saving them for future installments, and becomes another unnecessary fault that defines them because it robs the urgency of the story.  The only explanation could be that studios want to follow a formula and that doesn’t fit into each stories narrative and you end up with films that feel more like exercises rather than experiences.

The commerce angle behind these franchise makings can also become their downfall.  Sometimes, when the source material is too large to fit into a single feature, or even just a couple, then some productions make the mistake of cramming too much into a movie.  It’s the opposite problem to the hollow withdrawing of material like what happened with The Golden Compass; but it’s no less destructive to the plot of a movie.  Try to tell too much story, and you end up with a plot that never gives the audience a chance to absorb it all, or it tells only a fraction of what’s really there to begin with.  Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events fell victim to this, with many of the 18 novels in the series crammed into a disjointed narrative that never settles into a rhythm.  M. Night Shaymalan’s failed attempt to adapt the Nickelodeon series Avatar: The Last Airbender resulted in a Cliff Notes version of the first season called The Last Airbender (2010) which gave us all the high points with none of the emotion and ended up being loathed by audiences of all kinds.  This is the unfortunate result of trying to force a giant story into the confines of a cinematic format, and again, forcing the story again leads to failure which in turn leads to abandonment.  Thank God George R. R. Martin turned down Hollywood attempts to adapt his Song of Ice and Fire series into a single condensed film, and instead waited for HBO to come calling.  What he proved is that sometimes there are other ways to adapt a lengthy story, including television, and that it matters to give a narrative it’s proper pace and format.  Rings and Potter had their formulas, but they only worked best for their own stories.  Many of these other failed franchises would have done best to establish their own formulas to follow.

In the end, the best thing to do is to think about each film as it’s own story.  Sadly, even ongoing narratives still have to gamble with the changing times.  Harry Potter was lucky to survive for over a decade, mainly by gaining goodwill from the audience by taking chances.  But, even still, time will change perspectives and audiences will ultimately decide if a series is worth continuing.  We did end up with 3 Narnias in this fantasy craze of the 2000’s, but that was short lived, and we may never see the final four that are still waiting.  It’s a gamble in the end, but one that more or less can depend on the willingness of the filmmakers.  If you are purely just in it to follow a fad, then your series will be short lived.  If you believe in the project, and understand the best way to tell the story on screen, then you might have a chance.  Unfortunately, so many franchises make the mistake of putting too much faith in their first film and then abandoning that faith when it doesn’t turn out like they expected.  Eragon, The Golden Compass, and Lemony Snicket are the unfortunate lost children of Hollywood’s make-or-break approach to franchise building.  Their failures are only made more harsh by the fact that they feel more incomplete than the average film, the result of a misguided belief that these stories can only carry over into the next chapters.  The reason why we see series like Star Wars continue to stay strong even after a long absence, and is allowed to conclude each film with a more or less open ending, is because it’s earned the right to.  Each open ending does have a sense fulfillment by the end, and audiences accept it.  Nothing is withheld or forced on us, and the plot has been firmly established with a satisfying three act progression.  That’s why when we see Luke and Leia standing together as they plan a rescue for their friend Han Solo at the conclusion of The Empire Strikes Back, it feels like a natural ending without truly ending.  It’s a story worth the cliffhanger, and sadly the formula doesn’t fit all stories despite Hollywood’s attempts to make it fit. There’s nothing more unfortunate in Hollywood than a story that will never be concluded, and that’s the worst kind of cliffhanger that any storyteller can imagine.

Most Christmas themed movies usually end up reflecting the spirit of the holiday by the time the credits roll.  In the end, our characters are rewarded with gifts and love from their family, and all the worries of the world fall away for that brief moment of holiday cheer.  It’s a touching conclusion to any story, but if handled improperly, Holiday films can run the risk of becoming very sappy.  And sadly, far too many holiday movies end up choosing to go the sentimental route in their stories.  For the most part, it prevents the movies from ever resonating with an audience.  Just look at any of the many Hallmark Channel style films that are pushed on us every single year.  Can any of you tell them apart?  More than anything, Christmas movies have become the domain of the romantic comedy genre, and not all for the better.  Sure, there are classics among them like Love, Actually (2003), but that had the benefit of an excellent screenplay and a top-tier cast to carry it.  Christmas movies overall have succumbed to the same kind of formulaic problems that have also plagued the rom com genre.  Does it reflect badly on the holiday itself?  Not necessarily.  Most audiences have become accustomed to the gluttony of Christmas themed entertainment this time of year, and most of the generic fare usually fades into the background, catching a passing interest only because it’s the holiday season.  But, as we have seen in the past, some holiday films do rise above the rest and become classics of the genre.  And usually the defining element that helps these movies stand out is the strength of their main characters, or in this case their Holiday Heroes.

Protagonists in holiday films tend to be an interesting group.  Though individually distinct, a Holiday Hero is always defined in these movies by their one purpose in the story; to make everything right by Christmas Day.  Their stories can be as simple as trying to find the right gift for someone, or using the spirit of Christmas to inspire them to do something wonderful, or even leading the hero to actually saving the holiday itself.  But, apart from what they do, the other interesting thing that I’ve noticed about the heroes in Christmas movies is that they are usually the embodiment of the common every-man.  They are the kind of characters that deal with all the hardships of the world with the hope that the good work they do will make just a little bit of difference, even if it means making Christmas worthwhile just one time.  This is a trait that has been around for many years, and owes a lot to the films of Frank Capra, and in particular, his Christmas classic It’s a Wonderful Life.  George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) is the quintessential example of a traditional Every-man hero, and the fact that his triumphant story is tied so closely with the holiday has left a huge a huge mark on all the holiday films that have come after it.  He has become the archetype of what we know now as the Holiday Hero, and though many different characters have had different challenges put before them during the holiday season, a little of George Bailey’s can-do spirit is still found in all of them.  But, just like how every Christmas movie needs to bring something new to the genre in order to stand out, so must the hero of each story, and as a result, most Christmas movies are made or unmade by the effectiveness of their main hero.

So what does a hero need in a Christmas movie.  That all depends on the narrative that the filmmakers want to tell.  Let’s start with the most common version of the Holiday Hero, that being the George Bailey model.  This is the kind of character that goes through a story arc which leads them to reach a turning point in their life once Christmas Day comes around.  In George Bailey’s case, it’s something as dark as losing all faith in his existence, only to be reminded through how much he means to everyone around him, something that the spirit of Christmas brings out perfectly in everyone.  This redemptive arc is a popular one for holiday stories, and it has it’s roots in the works of Charles Dickens.  Dicken’s A Christmas Carol showed the redemption of Ebeneezer Scrooge through a spiritual journey through the character’s past, present, and future in order to redeem his soul and make him a new man in time for Christmas.  It’s a Wonderful Life does the same, but in reverse, taking a good decent man to the brink of despair only to remind him of the worth he has in this world by the end, preventing him from becoming a bad person.  Though both Scrooge and George couldn’t be more different in personality at the beginning, their transformations by the end fulfill the same purpose in the story, and that’s to make the Christmas holiday the point where their life turned around for the better.  This is reflected in so many holiday themed stories where a character’s life is renewed through the spirit of the holiday; sometimes in a supernatural way like with the Nicolas Cage film The Family Man (2000), or just through enduring a harsh reality through the season itself, like with the childhood woes of Ralphie in the perennial favorite, A Christmas Story (1983).  That’s what has shaped so many memorable Christmas movies over the years; a Dickensian catharsis that’s given to Capra-esque every-man, and it helps to underline the redemptive spirit of the holiday by making the hero so relate-able to our own anxieties during the holidays.  We root for these heroes, because they represent our own desires to change in time for Christmas and the New Year.

The other most common type of hero you’ll find in a Christmas movie is the character trying their hardest to make Christmas turn out right.  This is another relate-able hero type because it’s something that we all try to do.  We try our best to have the nicest decorations, buy the best presents, and throw the greatest parties.  In many ways, this type of character embodies our competitive side during the holidays, and how it bring out both the best and worst of us.  And as a result of this, this becomes the easiest version of the Holiday Hero to get wrong.  Sometimes we enjoy seeing the effort of someone who wants to make the holidays perfect, even when the world is against them.  Jack Skellington from Tim Burton’s classic holiday mash-up, The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), is a perfect example of this type of character.  There we see a hero who is so smitten with the warm feeling of Christmas time, that he takes it upon himself to fill Santa Claus’ role, despite Ol’ Saint Nick’s objections.  We know that Jack’s plans are doomed to fail, and yet we still celebrate his enthusiasm because that love for the holiday is something we all share, and that need to spread the positivity of the season is what distinguishes Jack as a Holiday Hero, misguided as he may be.   The flip side of this comes from people who are so narrow minded in their pursuit of a perfect holiday, that it makes them unappealing as a hero.  We see this in countless Christmas movies that shamefully turn their “heroes” into mindless consumers of every Christmas tradition.  This is true in soulless holiday movies like Deck the Halls (2006) or Christmas With the Kranks (2004).   It does matter when your hero uses Christmas as a way to spread cheer to others, and not as an excuse for constant one-up-manship.  In this case, the Holiday Hero must be self-less in order to appeal to audiences.  Anyone who celebrates Christmas purely for attention is not worth paying attention to in the end.

The third type of Holiday Hero we see in movies falls into the the more supernatural category, where the fate of the holiday itself falls into their hands.  Of course, it’s impossible for a holiday to rest on the shoulders of a single person, but Hollywood has managed to create stories that do just that, and some of them can be quite charming.  This is more commonly a favorite premise in animation, where you can get away with a lot more of the fantasy elements.  The heroes in these stories often come in contact with holiday icons like Santa, or are related to Santa Claus in some way, or in other cases are Santa himself.  But, what is always the case with these movies is that the hero puts aside their own troubles and worries in order to make Christmas go off without a hitch.  A great example of this kind of hero can be found in the under-appreciated animated film Arthur Christmas (2011), where the title hero takes it upon himself to save the holiday by making sure no loose ends are left after his father (Santa) forgets to stop at one home.  It’s the optimism and belief of doing the right thing that motivates the character and his faith in what the holiday means helps him to undermine the cynical corporate approach that his more ambitious brother wants to bring to the holiday.  It’s a perfect example of how to do this kind of hero right, mainly because his personality really helps to sell the idea that Christmas is worth saving.  The same kind of story-line can also give characters a strong redemptive arc, like with the Tim Allen hit The Santa Clause (1994), where a cynical common man is transformed (literally and figuratively) when he has to take Santa’s place at the North Pole.  Whether the character is pure from the start or not, their generous personality must shine through.  Otherwise, if they stay too cynical and never learn to change, then you get something bland like a Fred Claus (2007).

When you look at all the great heroes in all the Christmas movies, they usually fall into these different kinds of models.  Not all of them end up in the same place, but they nevertheless share similar traits, and of course their fates are tied to the holiday itself in the end.  I of course have my own favorite, and it’s a character who actually represents a bunch of these different traits all together in one story.  I’m of course talking about Clark Griswold in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989).  To me, Christmas Vacation is the perfect Christmas movie and Clark (Chevy Chase) the quintessential Holiday Hero.  The reason I like it so much is because it plays upon every Christmas tradition there is and mocks it relentlessly while at the same time embodying the spirit of the season throughout.  What I love best is the way that Clark Griswold takes an almost zealous approach to the Holiday, right to the point of madness.  In the end, he actually embodies every aspect of a Holiday Hero; he’s a Capra-esque every-man who tries to make the holidays perfect despite everything going wrong in the process, to the point of nearly losing his mind.  But what makes Clark such a great character is that the movie refuses to turn him into a purely heroic figure or purely cynical person either; he can sometimes turn into a real jackass when pushed to far.  But, you still want him to succeed because we can relate to his frustration.  Seriously, wouldn’t you freak out too if your boss cut out your Christmas bonus and you got a Jam of the Month Club membership instead.  That’s the appeal of Clark Griswold for me; he suffers for his love of the season, and it’s his imperfection that makes him interesting, and the putting up with hardship that makes him heroic (like having to put up with slovenly Cousin Eddie or disposing of a fried pussy cat from under the Christmas Tree), which helps to make his moments of madness seem forgivable by the end.

Unfortunately, Clark is character too little seen in holiday movies today.  More often we see too many characters in Christmas films that lack depth and personality.  This is the most common problem with holiday films, which tend to favor formula over originality.  It seems like Hollywood sometimes believes that you can just throw around anything with Christmas in the title and it will instantly bring in audiences.  Sadly, that part is true, since there is an appetite this time of year for anything holiday related, but nothing that comes out of this ends up lasting beyond that.  For a Christmas movie to have a long lasting legacy, it needs to have both a story worth watching and a hero worth following; otherwise it’s just a glorified Christmas card.  I’m sure that nobody remembers the pair of Christmas movies made by Vince Vaughn in the late 2000’s called Fred Claus and Four Christmases (2008), or how about the “edgier” Ben Affleck comedy Surviving Christmas (2004), or any of the endless Hallmark Channel fare we see every year.  Sometimes a Christmas movie also becomes notorious for missing the mark completely and hitting the wrong tone about the holiday, like Schwarzenegger’s Jingle All the Way (1996), the deeply disturbing Jack Frost (1998), or the horribly offensive Kirk Cameron’s Saving Christmas (2014).  For a Christmas movie to resonate, it’s got to have a hero interesting enough to follow and a story original enough to keep us interested, while still maintaining the traditions of the holiday.  This is what has made classics like Christmas Vacation, Elf (2003), A Christmas Story, and The Santa Clause withstand the test of time; they have the familiar Christmas spirit, but put a twist on it that makes them interesting to watch.

So, like most Christmas movies themselves, there’s a right way and a wrong way to portray a Holiday Hero.  In the end, the character must be interesting and original, but driven by the spirit of the season.  The most resonant of these usually are the ones whose life takes a turn once Christmas arrives.  Making the hero relate-able is a factor, which is why the It’s a Wonderful Life model is so popular in the genre.  George Bailey’s Christmas is the thing that we all desire to have in the end, where all of our worries go away and we have our faith of humanity renewed when all of our friends and family extend their goodwill towards us.  It’s the dream of the average every-man in modern day life, and it’s what has made the idea of a Holiday Hero so personable in our culture.  But, at the same time, Clark Griswold is also a perfect Holiday Hero, because he represents the dogged spirit of the every-man who just wants to survive the holidays with both his sanity and dignity in tact.  They both represent the highs and lows that the holiday can bring and how each are changed by the end makes the experience of the Holiday such an important factor in those stories.  It’s what makes a Holiday movie a classic, and so often we see other films that get the idea from these archetypal stories very wrong.  Either a Holiday film will have a hero who’s too pure and optimistic or a character so dogmatic about their drive for holiday perfection that they become unappealing and uninteresting. Overall, we long for the heroes who experience the Christmas season the way we want to experience it, whether it be in a traditional happy way or in a life-altering, challenging way.  The holidays are after all about helping us to remember the needs of our fellow man, so our heroes should embody that spirit as well.

When we look at many of our favorite movies over the years, it’s natural to think that any of them were always viewed as beloved classics from the day they premiered.  Some of them have no doubt, but there are many others that didn’t find their way into our hearts until many years later.  Oftentimes, it’s just a matter of timing, and that some movies were either overlooked upon their first release, or they fell victim to poor marketing that didn’t effectively allow the movies to find their target audience.  For whatever reason, Hollywood often has a hard time predicting how movies will perform, both in the short run and the long run.  No doubt, the business of the industry is centered around profitability and the more a film is able to make a return on their grosses in their immediate release the better.  That’s why there’s such a reliance on franchise building and sequel bating in the film industry, especially if your film costs are in the $100 million range.  But, there are the films that are stuck in the middle, those that are ambitious but hard to market that unfortunately are held to the same standard of the blockbusters.  It may seem unfair, but Hollywood is a commercial business, and the only way money gets spent is if those providing the funding can see the potential for big returns.  Thankfully, many filmmakers have become good at pitching projects that do push the boundaries and try something different while at the same time appealing to a large audience.  And these ambitious experiments often turn into some of the greatest cinematic wonders that we love today.  Unfortunately, they are also films that make Hollywood weary of failure.

This is common around Awards season, and this year in particular is a strong example of many ambitious projects under-performing according to the high standards of Hollywood.  The last month, we saw a strong collection of releases from some of Hollywood’s most acclaimed talent, which included Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak, Robert Zemeckis’ The Walk, Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs and the Sandra Bullock starrer Our Brand is Crisis.  All were heavily marketed as potential Awards season champions and quality entertainment that was sure to give the season a more sophisticated identity over the bombastic dumb fun of the summer.  Unfortunately, apart from Ridley Scott’s The Martian and Steven Spielberg’s Bridge of Spies, every other ambitious film from the last month failed at the box office.  Entertainment Weekly recently ran an article discussing this very thing in their November 13 issue (read it here) in which they dubbed the string recent disappointments “SHOCKTOBER.”  While Hollywood should fret about a pattern of underwhelming returns at the box office, at the same time I don’t think that it’s also fair to say that it was the movies themselves that were to blame.  Really, even though the recent box office has been sluggish, it’s not a reflection of the quality of the films, and many of them are actually still worth seeing.  I already reviewed The Walk and Crimson Peak favorably, and I actually believe that Steve Jobs is one of the best films of the year so far.  But because none of these movies made a profit, it unfortunately leads to a desire on Hollywood’s part to not invest in projects like them in the future, and that’s the sad reality about the business.  Though immediate box office can help boost a movie’s esteem, sometimes other films take their time, and develop their audiences over a long period.  And in some cases, this is actually better for the lifespan of a movie.

It’s the staying power of a movie that ultimately belies it’s greatness.  When we look at the best movies of all time, they all share a popularity with audiences that transcends their time and place.  But, when you dig deeper into a handful of them, you will notice that many lists of the greatest movies ever made will include a mix of both successes and failures from box offices of years past.  For every Star Wars (1977), Some like it Hot (1959), and Casablanca (1943) there’s a Blade Runner (1982), a Groundhog’s Day  (1992), and a Touch of Evil (1958).  All are considered masterpieces now, but the latter category didn’t achieve success immediately and in fact weren’t fully appreciated until many years later.  In some cases, a spectacular failure can even turn into a beloved classic completely out of nowhere.  I’m sure nobody thought that director Frank Capra’s biggest box office failure would turn into his most beloved feature decades later; the Christmas perennial It’s a Wonderful Life (1946).  That movie performed so badly that it shut down the company that made it, and yet today it is almost a sin for it not to air on network television during the holidays.  These are clear signs that great movies always find their audiences eventually; it’s just that not all of them do it in the same way.  Though the stigma of failure can plague a movie for a while, we’ve been shown that quality does get appreciated in the end and that time can help refresh a film’s perception in interesting ways.  Why, we’re even seeing that now with notorious flops like Heaven’s Gate (1980), which was deemed worthy of a Criterion release recently despite it’s reputation.

But, for these movies to exist at all there has to be credibility in their value, and Hollywood, as much as they try, can’t always predict how movies will perform in the long run.  This ultimately effects what films end up getting made, and the need for immediate satisfaction is the prevailing desire on the part of those financing the projects.  When a movie fails to make money, the studios become less likely to invest more into something different, and that’s when we see fewer chances being taken.  I would only ask Hollywood to consider the fact that movies, if they are good enough, can be more profitable in the long run and that immediate box office won’t always be the last word on a film’s success.  Take the case of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner; this was a box office failure in it’s time and people viewed it as a sign of Scott’s decline in stature in the industry.  But, with subsequent home video releases and airings on cable, the movie found an audience and  became a cult hit.  That cult status later hit the mainstream and now Blade Runner is not only considered one of Scott’s most beloved films, but also considered to some as his masterpiece over successes like Alien (1978) and Gladiator (2000).  Also, most importantly, it has become a moneymaker for it’s studio Warner Brothers; maybe not to a Star Wars level, but still you’ll see a fair share of memorabilia and special edition releases devoted to the film to this day, all of which generate plenty of money.  This is a perfect example of a movie that has aged beautifully, like fine wine.  It shows that you can’t just dismiss a movie right away because it didn’t give you what you wanted up front.  That being said, no body can predict how audiences tastes will change over time.

A large part of how a movie does perform at the box office has to do with how well it answers the hype that surrounds it.  Marketing of course does the work of generating attention for movies, and in many cases hype can be helpful and deserved.  But, there’s also the risk of putting too much hype on a film , because it can generate the wrong kind of attention.  This was the case with many of the recent releases that failed at the box office this October.  A lot of attention was drawn to the quality filmmakers and star power that these movies had, and also the fact that they were about something important and/or artistically daring.  In most cases they were, but the marketing failed to make that case to audiences.  What I saw in the advertisements for these films was a desperate desire to make these movies appear important, but at the same time, it ended up also making them appear indistinct.  That’s the danger of Awards season marketing; studios want to make these movies look like contenders, such as those that have succeeded before them, but at the same time, it diminishes what could have made them different from the rest.  The Steve Jobs movie, for example is one of the most interesting cinematic experiments I’ve seen this year; telling the story of a historical figure in our culture in only 3 scenes, helped out by the masterful direction from Danny Boyle and a killer screenplay by Aaron Sorkin.  Unfortunately, that daring artistic choice is not highlighted in the marketing, and it made the movie look just like any other biopic we’ve seen, which it is not.  The same can be said about the downplaying of the artistic achievements in Crimson Peak and The Walk.  Like the Entertainment Weekly article states, this is a case where Hollywood fell victim to making “too many films for a similar audience.”  But when you look at the films themselves, there’s nothing similar about them at all.  It’s only the marketing that made it look like they were of the similar vein.  That’s the danger of Award season marketing, because it puts all movies into a similar category when really they should belong in their own spotlight.

And being the big winner of award season doesn’t always give a movie a long life span either.  Anybody else remember Ordinary People, the Best Picture Oscar winner of 1980?  Didn’t think so.  There are other years where you can find many of the greatest classics ever made by Hollywood that all lost to a movie that few today even remotely remember.  One of the more recent examples of this was 1999.  That year, American Beauty walked away with the big awards, beating out movies like The Green Mile and The Sixth Sense.  It probably made sense at the time, but sixteen years later, the movies that stand out from 1999 that have aged the best are ones that weren’t even nominated; American Beauty not being one of them.  This includes my own favorite film from that year, David Fincher’s Fight Club.  The movie reached theaters amid mixed reviews from critics and a disappointing box office run, especially given that A-lister Brad Pitt was the star of it.  But, despite not clicking with the Hollywood elite initially, Fight Club did find success in the underground market, especially among college aged youth at the time, and like Blade Runner it developed a cult following that eventually hit the mainstream.  Now Fight Club is rightfully considered a classic years later, even to the point where awarded thesis papers are written today on college campuses across America discussing the philosophical questions raised by the film and it’s significance to cinematic art.  Other 1999 films have also likewise developed devoted followings like The Matrix and The Iron Giant, and have since left a remarkable impact in the decade following their release.  Iron Giant in fact recently received a special anniversary re-release, which is pretty remarkable for a movie that bombed when it first came out.  All the while, American Beauty isn’t even mentioned much today, much less seen worthy of an anniversary re-release.  Director Sam Mendes is in fact much more heralded today for his James Bond movies and less for the film that earned him an Oscar.  It just shows that vying for the end of the year gold doesn’t always guarantee a long life span for your film, and that sometimes it’s much better to make a movie that builds an audience over time.

The other thing that determines a movie’s ability to find it’s audience is how it deals with the circumstances of it’s release. Like I stated earlier, failure in the beginning doesn’t always mean failure for eternity in the whole of cinematic history.  If a movie is worthy of it, it will eventually find an audience.  Sometimes this is helped by viewing the film through the prism of nostalgia.  This often happens with movies that are emblematic of the time they were made and feel unique when contrasted with the movies of today.  Just look at any of the movies mocked on Mystery Science Theater.  What seemed bland and sub-par in it’s own time can come off as charmingly ridiculous when taken out of their original contextual time period.  The same goes with some of Hollywood’s more undiscovered classics.  People attracted to different genres can often find a hidden gem deep in the studio vaults, if Hollywood gives them a  chance to be seen.  That’s why Film Noir, Western and Sci-fi genres benefit from the passage of time, because audiences that seek out unseen classics will almost always find what they are looking for, just due to the sheer probability taken out of diverse tastes.  Time makes us ultimately forget how a movie performed and instead makes us see the movie on it’s own merits, as a great story worth telling and that’s what ultimately makes them a classic in the end.  Sometimes a great film was overlooked at the time just because the studio didn’t see any value in it and decided to bury it for years.  Thankfully, with the resources we have now, nothing is buried anymore, and even the forgotten are given a chance to shine.  Blade Runner and Fight Club managed to do it on home video, and It’s a Wonderful Life did it on television.  The more avenues a movie has given to it, the better chance it has to find it’s audience in the end, and all the great ones do eventually.

So, despite Entertainment Weekly’s worries that one bad month is an omen of ill tidings for the industry, it should not be a reflection on the movies themselves.  A great film eventually finds a way to make money in the long run.  Sadly, Hollywood is an impatient beast, and waiting for returns a decade later is not a good way to run a business.  So, movies like Steve Jobs, Crimson Peak and The Walk are going to carry the stigma of being disappointments for a while, and it will probably hurt their chances during Awards season, which is a little unfair.  But, Hollywood should understand that box office numbers are not always a sign of a film’s actual overall value.  Sometimes a failure at the box office may be discovered by an aspiring filmmaker who is then inspired by it and eventually one day they make a game-changing film that does produce an immediate box office success.  Overall, I’m saying that Hollywood execs shouldn’t be discouraged from taking chances once in a while.  Yeah, it will be good for business if you travel down the safe route with predictable, name brand fair that’s guaranteed to give you a big opening weekend.  But, if you have the opportunity to reach for greatness by making something that’s different and challenging, it may give you decades worth of positive returns.  Basically, you’re left with the choice between producing an opera or a fireworks show.  Both have the potential to entertain, but one will stick with people for far longer despite costing you more initially.  Hopefully the October releases this year can stick it out; and the awards season has been known to pull movies out of the abyss of disappointment by giving them the spotlight through a deserved nomination.  In that regard, it shows that playing the long game can be tricky, but at the same time, oh so rewarding.