I've watched good movies, and I've watched bad movies. I've read good books, and I've read bad books. I've seen good TV, and I've seen bad TV. I've heard good music and I've heard bad music. I've bought good comic books, and I've bought bad comic books. I've played good video games, and I've played bad video games. I don't have a large enough sample size concerning stage productions to make a statement.
There are stories, ideas, characters, themes, motifs, ideas, and settings stretching far and wide across boundless boundaries and back again. They are all unique. Different subjects work differently in different mediums because different subjects require different mediums. Something like Half-Life could only work through the interactive, first-person narrative format a video game can provide. Likewise, the abstract horror and tortures of Guernica can only exist as oil on canvas.
And yet there's this false hierarchy that's always preached and always accepted: Books are always better. Read a book, support your local library, turn off the TV and read, enjoy silent reading time, etc. etc. etc. Literature and prose are the kings of all communications, and all others are garbage. Every kids' TV show has an episode where the characters learn books exist, and embark on a 22 minute adventure where reading is fun. Likewise, those same shows have episodes where somebody becomes obsessed with TV or video games, then needs to be weened off. An addiction to reading? That's good! An addiction to TV? That's bad! Let's not forget, these lessons are being dispensed on television. Is this irony or flagellation?
Understand me, I'm not being anti-literate. Books are one of the oldest and most versatile forms of entertainment and art. There's an infinite realm of possibilities and opportunities in the written word. Books are good, but books are only one of many different viable options. If books were the best option, there would be no alternatives because we found the perfect medium. But other options do exist because books are not perfect.
The problem with books is simple: They're not a visual medium. Whatever the author wants to convey, they convey. If the author says the hero is tall, the hero is tall. If he says the room was silent, the room was silent. If the author says everybody ran, screaming for their lives, everybody runs screaming for their lives. There's no ambiguity in words, right? Wrong! Words are nothing but ambiguity.
The author conveys what he chooses to convey, but the reader has the task of interpreting those words. When the author said the hero was tall, you could imagine him being six foot two, or you could imagine him being eighteen foot nine. When the author says the room is silent, you could imagine a surreal vacuum where no sound escapes, or simply an awkward pause in conversation while the radio drones on in the background. When the author says everybody ran screaming for their lives, you could imagine a hectic group funneling out the fire escape, or a frenzied mob crawling and clawing each other, stampeding and trampling others before dying in an explosive blast. Literature is a tabula rasa. A blank slate for the reader to interpret the author's words and meanings. They will vary from person to person. This is what visual mediums fix.
Visual mediums replace the open world of the author with a set and established image concocted in joint effort between the screenwriter and director. Peter Benchley told us Jaws was terrifying, Steven Spielberg showed us.
As I said earlier, there is no one medium better than another. There are only mediums more suited for the task at hand. Truly successful and inspiring (and profitable) works are frequently tested in different realms. MASH became a TV show. Legos became a video game franchise. The Addams Family became a cartoon. Spider-Man became a stage musical. Some work, and some send Broadway hopefuls to the hospital.
Which brings me to another complaint: Movies are not the end-all, be-all of media evolution.
Bitch and moan as much as you want concerning adaptations and remakes saturating the film market. Research and returns prove scientifically audiences prefer an established franchise. So movie studios dredge the world of art and entertainment for all viable properties, even if they seem like bad ideas at the time. I've either accepted this or I've become numb, because this truth doesn't bother me anymore.
What does bother me is the one-way expectation expected by others. Any noteworthy piece of art, be it a book, TV show, toy line, musical or video game is practically expected to be adapted into a feature length film. It's not an issue of "if" it's a matter of "when."
I first noticed the taste of this bitter pill while reading an internet discussion board concerning the recently released and forgotten Need For Speed adaptation. Somebody couldn't believe they were making a blatant Fast and Furious knockoff, meanwhile in their own words, "Where is our Bioshock movie, already?"
Not "I would have preferred a Bioshock movie," not "Bioshock would have made for a better movie," not "Is there any news on a Bioshock movie?" Just entitled expectations and disdain that his whims weren't met. I can't blame him. Everything has to be a movie, nowadays. That's the goal. If your work becomes a movie, you've succeeded. Abed never hoped for six seasons. He hoped for six seasons AND a movie.
If we can suddenly realize this faulty logic, maybe we can stop the stigma against adaptations by only making adaptations that work. The prime example of which being movies based on video games. There have been nearly three dozen feature-length movies based on video games, and they are all terrible. Video games don't fit amongst the restrictions of the motion picture medium. Gone is the interactivity, gone is the pacing, gone is the controllable camera, gone is the first-person experience. It becomes a third-person story on rails. It's as immersive as an animatronic ride.
Plain and simple, not everything needs to be a movie. Some stories don't
work as movies. Franchises can always expand outwards, but it doesn't
have to be in one inevitable direction.
Feel free to leave comments about how the first Resident Evil movie wasn't completely terrible, because I never get tired of hearing those flimsy excuses.
Showing posts with label Hollywood is Broken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hollywood is Broken. Show all posts
6/08/2014
4/19/2014
Bursting Bubbles
We live in a culture bubble. To see the edge of this bubble, consider some of the most frequently adapted works in film and television:
Dracula (340 adaptations, created 1897)
Sherlock Holmes (292 adaptations, created 1887)
Frankenstein (202 adaptations, created 1818)
Tarzan (95 adaptations, created 1912)
Alice in Wonderland (45 adaptations, created 1865)
The Wizard of Oz (72 adaptations, created 1900)
The Phantom of the Opera (33 adaptations, created 1910)
A Christmas Carol (99 adaptations, created 1843)
Peter Pan (64 adaptations, created 1902)
Treasure Island (65 adaptations, created 1911)
Pride & Prejudice (26 adaptations, created 1813)
Winnie the Pooh (60 adaptations, created 1924)
Tom Sawyer (45 adaptations, created 1876)
The Three Musketeers (77 adaptations, created 1844)
All tallies according to IMDB. Totals may not be accurate. Actually, I guarantee it.
Notice anything strange? An overwhelming number of our beloved characters and stories come from the 19th century and early 20th century. Is that coincidence? Did we just stop making influential stories after 1929? Or did somebody slam on the cultural brakes?
Yes. Somebody did.
First appearing in 1928, Mickey Mouse was an overnight success, quickly becoming the face of Walt Disney Studios and The Walt Disney Company, as well as an icon of America and animation in general. He's a beloved character, a moneymaker, and a symbol of childhood joy and innocence. But of those three, he is a moneymaker first. Disney owns him, and Disney will make sure they and they alone will profit from him.
It all comes down to the Public Domain. The public domain consists of works that are publicly available; works that are unavailable for private ownership and subject to appropriation by anyone. Anybody can use, enjoy and interpret a public domain work ad infinitum. This is alternative to copyrighted works. Copyright gives the owner the exclusive right to reproduce the work in question, to prepare derivative works, to distribute copies of the work, and to perform/display the copyrighted work publicly. And no single copyrighted work has done more to redefine the definition of the public domain than Mickey Mouse.
The graph above demonstrates how the Walt Disney Corporation has altered and amended the rules of copyrights and copyright extensions. Every time Mickey Mouse comes close to entering the public domain, every time day care centers think they can paint his red shorts on their nursery walls without fear of reprisal, every time t-shirt companies want to emblazon their wares with Mickey's trademark ears without suffering an infringement suit, the Disney lawyers are ready to play hardball.
Disney is renowned for having some of the most vicious and tenacious lawyers in all the world. You don't ever want to be on the other side of a Disney deposition. These were people hired by Jefferey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner to do THEIR dirty work. They are scary people. But they certainly get the job done.
As it stands now, copyright for creative works extends 70 years beyond the creator's death. Or, in the case of corporate-owned content (such as Mickey), 95 years after the content's first publication. Mickey Mouse's image will enter the public domain in 2023 unless copyright extension law is extended again. And most likely, it will be.
This is why the pre-1925 cultural bubble exists. Content created before Mickey Mouse has entered the public domain, where anybody can try their hand at adapting the characters, stories and settings. They're as popular as stories get before the temporal roadblock makes novels, stories and cartoons entirely inaccessible for adaptation and interpretation. Nearly all content created since Mickey Mouse's debut is still privately owned and trademarked, and only a small number of artists, writers, and cartoonists are authorized by the copyright holder to handle that content. It's why there's a new spin on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow every Halloween, but Batman can never be handled by anyone DC disapproves of.
Copyright law was created with the intention of protecting content creators. When the content creator dies, copyright law protects the beneficiary and the artist's legacy. If copyright law is only protecting a company's interests, this becomes an issue of trademark. Mickey Mouse is being treated as nothing more than a logo, interchangeable with Walt Disney's iconic signature. And that's not right. Mickey Mouse is not a logo or slogan. He's a beloved character, and a symbol of childhood joy and innocence. We all know it, and though they'll never confess, Disney and their lawyers know it as well.
Disney can continue to use Mickey Mouse, they can continue to use Mickey Mouse as their logo, and most certainly Disney can advertise themselves as the originators of Mickey Mouse, but they shouldn't be allowed to deny others the opportunity to utilize the character. For every Mickey Mouse being withheld, there's a Phillip Marlowe, Bilbo Baggins and Cat in the Hat ready to see the grand scale of worldwide recognition, use and acceptance.
Where would Dorothy Gale be without her ruby slippers? They weren't in the original novel, but created for the 1939 film version. Boris Karloff's portrayal of Frankenstein's monster is so detached from Mary Shelley's image, the two are hardly the same character. Sherlock Holmes never said 'Elementary, my dear Watson,' until it was uttered by Basil Rathbone. But now, it's Holmes' most iconic piece of dialogue. And most applicable of all, what would Disneyland look like without Cinderella's castle?
Dracula (340 adaptations, created 1897)
Sherlock Holmes (292 adaptations, created 1887)
Frankenstein (202 adaptations, created 1818)
Tarzan (95 adaptations, created 1912)
Alice in Wonderland (45 adaptations, created 1865)
The Wizard of Oz (72 adaptations, created 1900)
The Phantom of the Opera (33 adaptations, created 1910)
A Christmas Carol (99 adaptations, created 1843)
Peter Pan (64 adaptations, created 1902)
Treasure Island (65 adaptations, created 1911)
Pride & Prejudice (26 adaptations, created 1813)
Winnie the Pooh (60 adaptations, created 1924)
Tom Sawyer (45 adaptations, created 1876)
The Three Musketeers (77 adaptations, created 1844)
All tallies according to IMDB. Totals may not be accurate. Actually, I guarantee it.
Notice anything strange? An overwhelming number of our beloved characters and stories come from the 19th century and early 20th century. Is that coincidence? Did we just stop making influential stories after 1929? Or did somebody slam on the cultural brakes?
Yes. Somebody did.
It all comes down to the Public Domain. The public domain consists of works that are publicly available; works that are unavailable for private ownership and subject to appropriation by anyone. Anybody can use, enjoy and interpret a public domain work ad infinitum. This is alternative to copyrighted works. Copyright gives the owner the exclusive right to reproduce the work in question, to prepare derivative works, to distribute copies of the work, and to perform/display the copyrighted work publicly. And no single copyrighted work has done more to redefine the definition of the public domain than Mickey Mouse.
Disney is renowned for having some of the most vicious and tenacious lawyers in all the world. You don't ever want to be on the other side of a Disney deposition. These were people hired by Jefferey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner to do THEIR dirty work. They are scary people. But they certainly get the job done.
As it stands now, copyright for creative works extends 70 years beyond the creator's death. Or, in the case of corporate-owned content (such as Mickey), 95 years after the content's first publication. Mickey Mouse's image will enter the public domain in 2023 unless copyright extension law is extended again. And most likely, it will be.
This is why the pre-1925 cultural bubble exists. Content created before Mickey Mouse has entered the public domain, where anybody can try their hand at adapting the characters, stories and settings. They're as popular as stories get before the temporal roadblock makes novels, stories and cartoons entirely inaccessible for adaptation and interpretation. Nearly all content created since Mickey Mouse's debut is still privately owned and trademarked, and only a small number of artists, writers, and cartoonists are authorized by the copyright holder to handle that content. It's why there's a new spin on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow every Halloween, but Batman can never be handled by anyone DC disapproves of.
 |
| For some reason, this included Joel Schumacher |
Disney can continue to use Mickey Mouse, they can continue to use Mickey Mouse as their logo, and most certainly Disney can advertise themselves as the originators of Mickey Mouse, but they shouldn't be allowed to deny others the opportunity to utilize the character. For every Mickey Mouse being withheld, there's a Phillip Marlowe, Bilbo Baggins and Cat in the Hat ready to see the grand scale of worldwide recognition, use and acceptance.
Where would Dorothy Gale be without her ruby slippers? They weren't in the original novel, but created for the 1939 film version. Boris Karloff's portrayal of Frankenstein's monster is so detached from Mary Shelley's image, the two are hardly the same character. Sherlock Holmes never said 'Elementary, my dear Watson,' until it was uttered by Basil Rathbone. But now, it's Holmes' most iconic piece of dialogue. And most applicable of all, what would Disneyland look like without Cinderella's castle?
9/30/2013
Electric Boogaloo
15 Sequels That Will Never Happen:
1) The Subtle Knife
2) Super Mario Bros 2
3) Buckaroo Banzai and the World Crime League
4) Bubba Nosferatu: Curse of the She-Vampires
5) Street Fighter II: Turbo
6) The Last Airbender - Book 2: Earth
7) Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne
8) Eldest
9) Kung Pow 2: Tongue of Fury
10) Ralph Bakshi's Return of the King
11) Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money
12) The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
13) Fletch Won
14) Masters of the Universe II
15) Charlie and the Great Glass Wonkavator
15 Sequels Nobody Asked For But Are Coming Anyways:
1) Pirates of the Caribbean 5
2) Paranormal Activity 5
3) Men in Black 4
4) The Legend of Conan
5) Prometheus 2
6) Oz: The Great and Powerful Part 2
7) Hot Tub Time Machine 2
8) Snow White and the Huntsman 2
9) Night at the Museum 3
10) Terminator 5
11) The Lost Symbol
12) A Haunted House 2
13) xXx Three
14) Tron 3
15) Rio 2
15 Sequels I Want:
1) Tucker and Dale Vs. The Aliens
2) Lock, Stock, and Two More Smoking Barrels
3) The Player 2: Sequel Pitch
4) Return to District 9
5) Twilight Watch
6) tranCendenZ
7) Galaxy Quest: The Next Generation
8) Warshinton: The Legend of Early Grayce
9) Bike Fatboy Bike
10) Lemony Snickett's A Regrettably Second Series of Unfortunate Events
11) That Thing You Did
12) Zombieland 3D
13) Kiss Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Bang
14) School of Rock 2: America Rocks
15) Pineapple Express 2: The New Strand
1) The Subtle Knife
2) Super Mario Bros 2
3) Buckaroo Banzai and the World Crime League
4) Bubba Nosferatu: Curse of the She-Vampires
5) Street Fighter II: Turbo
6) The Last Airbender - Book 2: Earth
7) Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne
8) Eldest
9) Kung Pow 2: Tongue of Fury
10) Ralph Bakshi's Return of the King
11) Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money
12) The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
13) Fletch Won
14) Masters of the Universe II
15) Charlie and the Great Glass Wonkavator
15 Sequels Nobody Asked For But Are Coming Anyways:
1) Pirates of the Caribbean 5
2) Paranormal Activity 5
3) Men in Black 4
4) The Legend of Conan
5) Prometheus 2
6) Oz: The Great and Powerful Part 2
7) Hot Tub Time Machine 2
8) Snow White and the Huntsman 2
9) Night at the Museum 3
10) Terminator 5
11) The Lost Symbol
12) A Haunted House 2
13) xXx Three
14) Tron 3
15) Rio 2
15 Sequels I Want:
1) Tucker and Dale Vs. The Aliens
2) Lock, Stock, and Two More Smoking Barrels
3) The Player 2: Sequel Pitch
4) Return to District 9
5) Twilight Watch
6) tranCendenZ
7) Galaxy Quest: The Next Generation
8) Warshinton: The Legend of Early Grayce
9) Bike Fatboy Bike
10) Lemony Snickett's A Regrettably Second Series of Unfortunate Events
11) That Thing You Did
12) Zombieland 3D
13) Kiss Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Bang
14) School of Rock 2: America Rocks
15) Pineapple Express 2: The New Strand
2/08/2012
Extremely Similar and Incredibly Close
Here's something interesting I discovered about Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. It got the Oscar nom for Best Picture because it's exactly the same as the other eight films.
Don't believe me?
It's the personal story of how one boy and his best friend were separated by an infamous act of international violence...
...Causing the young boy to lose his father in a tragic accident, establishing a mystery centered around a lock and key...
...But by using an unconventional strategy, backed by a mathematical algorithm involving normally overlooked people...
...He keeps alive the memories of his father, his enduring legacy and the impact he had on his adolescent life...
...By going on a futile journey for solace, to find answers as to why his once-perfect life has unfairly been upended...
...And Viola Davis is there, who has much bigger problems than the young, white, protagonist, but she agrees to help anyways...
...And there's a deeply depressed man, plagued by his own silence...
...But in the end, after meeting numerous interesting people, the hero learns to let go of the past and focus on his future in the city he loves.
Don't believe me?
It's the personal story of how one boy and his best friend were separated by an infamous act of international violence...
...Causing the young boy to lose his father in a tragic accident, establishing a mystery centered around a lock and key...
...But by using an unconventional strategy, backed by a mathematical algorithm involving normally overlooked people...
...He keeps alive the memories of his father, his enduring legacy and the impact he had on his adolescent life...
...By going on a futile journey for solace, to find answers as to why his once-perfect life has unfairly been upended...
...And Viola Davis is there, who has much bigger problems than the young, white, protagonist, but she agrees to help anyways...
...And there's a deeply depressed man, plagued by his own silence...
...But in the end, after meeting numerous interesting people, the hero learns to let go of the past and focus on his future in the city he loves.
3/30/2011
We're at an iMPAAsse.
I've seen commercials advertising the special theatrical release of The King's Speech. It's not longer, it's not the director's cut, it doesn't have an additional scene after the credits. It's the PG-13 version.The King's Speech is a great biopic. It's inspiring, it's powerful, it's historical, it's both lighthearted and deep. It's cinematic magic, and while it wasn't my choice for Best Picture for 2010, it should be made available to the widest audience possible.
Do you know why it was rated R in the first place? If you'll recall, there was no violence, there was no sex, no nudity, no thematic elements, and no drug use or alcohol abuse (save for some chain smoking and a scene where Guy Ritchie is determined to find the perfect bottle of wine.)
If you'll recall, there was one scene responsible for it's restricted rating. In a moment of frustration, Geoffrey Rush urges Colin Firth to belt out a cathartic tirade of expletives. The tirade is as follows:
"Fuck. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck and fuck! Fuck, fuck and bugger! Bugger, bugger, buggerty buggerty buggerty, fuck, fuck, arse! Balls, balls, fuckity, shit, shit, fuck and willy. Willy, shit and fuck and... tits."
According to the MPAA, this is naughty language that can only be exposed to adults. According to my sources, the edited version is as follows, and perfectly suited for all ages:
"Shit. Shit! Shit, shit, shit and shit! Shit, shit and bugger! Bugger, bugger, buggerty buggerty buggerty, shit, shit, arse! Balls, balls, shitty, shit, shit, fuck and willy. Willy, shit and fuck and... tits."
Hearing the word "Fuck" thirteen times in swift succession is dangerous to malleable young minds. Hearing it twice is perfectly fine. Of course, this is twice as many times normally allowed. Under normal MPAA guidelines, a film may say "Fuck" once and maintain a PG-13 rating. Clearly, the MPAA has a soft spot for Colin Firth's charming, British allure. Buggerty? Delightful!
Oh, and let's not forget "Shit." To the MPAA, that word is completely inconsequential. "Shit" and "Shoot" might as well be interchangeable (though not as verbs. That would be silly.)
Why do I take such personal issue with this? Does it have anything to do with my getting a three-day suspension in the 6th grade for saying "Shit" in a private conversation to a friend? No, not a bit. Clearly I hold no ill-regard towards the shit-eating language police and their goddamn, ass-backwards, cock-guzzling rules.
Fuck no. Not at all.
2/07/2011
Award Is Not Enough
From 1933 to 1944, the AMPAS honored ten films every year in the Best Picture category. Beginning in 1945, they streamlined the process limiting the nominees to a mere five. There was no official reason as to why this change was made. In 2009, the AMPAS bumped the total number of best picture nominees back up to ten films.
The official reasoning behind this decision was to honor more mainstream films, thus enticing more people to watch the televised ceremony. The actual reason was to alleviate guilt; no longer were members of the academy forced to kowtow to Oscar Bait. You could, if you so desired, nominate films that you enjoyed watching.
But what if the Academy had made this decision ten years earlier? What would the nominations look like from 1999-2008 if every year had ten best film nominations?
If I may be so bold:
1999:
With the exceptions of 1928, 1935 and 1989, every film that's won Best Picture has been nominated for best director. As such, we can pretty much deduce with ten nominees that any film nominated for Best Director would also receive a nomination for Best Picture. In the case of 1999, that film would be Being John Malkovich.
At the Golden Globes, Man on the Moon won best picture (musical or comedy) and best actor in a lead role (Jim Carrey), so we can assume there was more than just mild interest in this film. It's also a biopic of somebody who dies tragically young, and the Academy loves those.
We can tell based on the nominations for The Green Mile and The Sixth Sense that 1999 favored psychological mindscrews. As such, with ten nominations, we can deduce one other film would be of the same vein. The Talented Mr Ripley can fill that niche.
I don't think Toy Story 2 would receive a nomination. Pixar was still in its infancy in 1999, and animation would probably still be getting the short end of the stick. But the groundwork has been laid; critics would already be asking why Pixar didn't get a nomination. The animation ghetto argument has just advanced by nine years.
Instead, let's give the final nominations to Magnolia because its a great film that was overlooked, and The Hurricane, because boxing movies are always nominated.
* American Beauty
o The Cider House Rules
o The Green Mile
o The Insider
o The Sixth Sense
+ Being John Malkovich
+ The Hurricane
+ Magnolia
+ Man on the Moon
+ The Talented Mr Ripley
-------------------------
2000:
Wow. Just looking at the nominees for 2000, I can already see how far we've come regarding Oscar Bait.
First, Billy Elliot gets in because of the director rule (groan).
Next, we'll give a nomination to Cast Away because everybody saw it, everybody loved it, it made its impact on popular culture, and then pretty much everybody forgot about it. Just like most Best Picture nominees.
We'll give the token comedy slot to Almost Famous because it won at the Golden Globes. And because it also managed to snatch the Best Original Screenplay Oscar away from the Best Picture winner, Gladiator. Which is a feat in and of itself.
Let's give the penultimate slot to Wonder Boys. No particular reason, here.
Finally, to prove that at least someone in Hollywood had a pulse in 2001, the final slot goes to Requiem For a Dream. It was one of the essential movies in the history of Indie films, it tackled a topical and important subject matter in a unique and interesting way, and it was thrilling, provocative and stylish. Sure, Traffic had similar themes, but if you ask a film fan which movie they like better, Requiem wins 99 times out of 100. Excuse the pun, but nominating Requiem For a Dream for Best Picture would have been a big shot in the arm to the indie circuit.
* Gladiator
o Chocolat
o Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
o Erin Brockovich
o Traffic
+ Almost Famous
+ Billy Elliot
+ Cast Away
+ Requiem For a Dream
+ Wonder Boys
---------------------
2001:
First of all, congratulations to both Ridley Scott and David Lynch for their Best Director nominations. Both are master craftsmen in the medium of film, and both deserved accolades for their efforts this year, even with such tough competition. Even with such illustrious filmographies, Black Hawk Down and Mulholland Dr. are two of their strongest films. Both movies earn the first two vacant spots for Best Picture.
However, with both films touching on dark subject matter, we'll need to balance out the nominations with some significantly lighter fare; The Royal Tenenbaums snatches up spot number three. It takes the token comedy slot, it's a great script, a great ensemble cast, and I doubt there would be any objections. This will also be the only time anybody ever referred to The Royal Tenenbaums as "lighter fare."
I never understood why Amelie wasn't nominated for Best Picture. Everybody loved it. I went to college with a metalhead who only owned five DVDs, and Amelie was one of them. It's romance, it's comedy, it's enchanting, it's whimsical, and it was nominated for five other Academy Awards, but not Best Picture. Interesting trivia: only two French films have ever been nominated for Best Picture, which is odd considering France's filmography is filled with illustrious classic. But even still, with Life is Beautiful being nominated in 1998 and Crouching Tiger being nominated in 2000, maybe Academy members were just fed up with foreign films. Well, suck it up jerks. Amelie takes spot number four.
Interestingly enough, I wouldn't predict either Shrek or Monsters Inc to earn a nomination slot. If only one came out this year, certainly they would, but tragically, the vote is split between the two. Neither get the final prize.
Instead, Ali takes spot number five because boxing movies are always nominated.
* A Beautiful Mind
o Gosford Park
o In the Bedroom
o The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
o Moulin Rouge
+ Ali
+ Amelie
+ Black Hawk Down
+ Mulholland Dr.
+ The Royal Tenenbaums
----------------------
2002:
Talk to Her earns the first nomination because of the director rule, making this the fourth foreign film in five years to earn a best picture nomination. And with great competition; Spirited Away, Hero, and Y Tu Mama Tambien were all gunning for the honor as well.
In a year where the Best Picture winner is a musical about women in an all-woman's prison who love cabaret, I hesitate to say we need a token chick flick, but we need a token chick flick. A film about a forbidden romance that society says is wrong, but which the lovers pursue anyway. And this year, there was one of the best: Far From Heaven.
Adaptation takes the third spot, being the sole quirky, unconventional film out of all the nominees (if you can consider orcs and ents conventional).
For the sake of argument, let's not consider The Hours or Adaptation a full-fledged biopic. Instead, let's give that honor to Catch Me If You Can. It's also a comedy, which works in its favor. Somehow.
Finally, the last nomination goes to About Schmidt because I get the feeling lots of people liked it, but were guilted into voting for something else. It deserves a better destiny than being the butt of jokes concerning Kathy Bates and a hot tub.
* Chicago
o Gangs of New York
o The Hours
o The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
o The Pianist
+ About Schmidt
+ Adaptation
+ Catch Me If You Can
+ Far From Heaven
+ Talk to Her
---------------------
2003:
City of God takes the first spot because of the director rule. It deserves the nomination, anyway.
In the wake of 9/11, there were a lot of films about prejudice this year, such as House of Sand and Fog, In America, Dirty Pretty Things, and probably some others I'm forgetting. But if I may be so bold, I'd like to combine this category with the token comedy slot and give the nomination to Bend It Like Beckham. And no, Lost in Translation does not already fill the token comedy slot.
After years of almosts, Pixar finally gets its first nomination here with Finding Nemo. Congratulations, fishies.
Finally, let's give the last two slots to Cold Mountain and 21 Grams. Both were critically acclaimed dramas, both had a number of other nominations, and frankly, it doesn't matter what the last two nominations were, because Lord of the Rings destroyed everything in its path.
* The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
o Lost In Translation
o Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
o Mystic River
o Seabiscuit
+ 21 Grams
+ Bend it Like Beckham
+ City of God
+ Cold Mountain
+ Finding Nemo
----------------------
2004:
I'm going to go against my self-imposed director rule for one reason: It's not practical here. The film in question is Vera Drake. I know nothing about Vera Drake. I don't think anybody saw Vera Drake. And if someone did, I doubt they remember anything about it. So I'm not going to honor it. There's too many other films to nominate, anyways.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was released in March 2004. Compare this to 90% of all Oscar-nominated films which come out in December. Most people forgot about it come nomination time. I theorize if Finding Neverland and Eternal Sunshine swapped release dates, Eternal Sunshine would have earned the nomination instead. But now with ten nominees, they both get the honor.
Collateral earns a nomination as the token thriller, a genre absent from the five original nominees. AMPAS, genre films will not bite you.
Pixar shines again with a nomination for The Incredibles, an obvious choice if you ask me. But nobody ever does, which is why I've resigned myself to blogging.
After a very fortuitous year at the Emmys for Angels in America, director Mike Nichols has carryover success at the Oscars with his film Closer. It's a romance that gets the majority of the chick flick votes, especially after the disappointments that were The Phantom of the Opera, Alfie and De-Lovely.
So what film gets the fifth and final slot? Well, after Michael Moore's 2002 Best Documentary win for Bowling for Columbine, his big win at Cannes in 2004, and a general animosity by everyone throughout Hollywood towards the Bush administration, I think there's a fairly strong likelihood Fahrenheit 9/11 would snatch up a nomination for best picture. It would be the first documentary to ever be nominated outside the Best Documentary category (as far as my research reveals), and for Best Picture, no less. Hollywood does not hide its liberal bias well.
* Million Dollar Baby
o The Aviator
o Finding Neverland
o Ray
o Sideways
+ Collateral
+ Closer
+ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
+ Fahrenheit 9/11
+ The Incredibles
-------------------
2005:
In an odd turn of events, 2005 was one of four years where the Best Picture nominees matched up exactly with the Best Director nominees. So the director rule is out.
A History of Violence was lauded as one of the best films of the year, so we'll give it the token thriller slot.
In fact, let's just honor all the token stereotypes. Let's give a nomination to The Squid and the Whale for comedy (Baumbach/Raimi dichotomy be damned).
The Constant Gardner gets a nomination for being politically topical and provocative.
Walk the Line gets a nomination for being a combination musical and biopic (and because it's basically Ray, but with country singers).
And finally, Cinderella Man gets a nom because boxing movies are always nominated.
* Crash
o Brokeback Mountain
o Capote
o Good Night, and Good Luck
o Munich
+ Cinderella Man
+ The Constant Gardener
+ A History of Violence
+ The Squid and the Whale
+ Walk the Line
-------------------
2006:
United 93 gets the first nomination. It was nominated for Best Director, and because 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11.
I'm hesitant to name any others nominees, because the nominations for 2006 seem to hit all the marks: Action, social drama, indie comedy, a biopic and a foreign language film (even though Letters From Iwo Jima was produced in America). But all hesitations aside, I've got a blog post to finish. Let's just double up on everything.
Half-Nelson is another social drama exploring societal and class relations across differing ethnic backgrounds only to reach the conclusion that we're not all that different (just like Babel.)
Pan's Labyrinth is the story of a young protagonist searching for escape and salvation from hostile authority figures, war, and an assured death. And its presented in a foreign language (just like Letters From Iwo Jima.)
The Devil Wears Prada is a comedy about a female protagonist trying to advance in an industry ruled by superficial standards of beauty, only to discover the best way to live is by embracing your flaws (just like Little Miss Sunshine.)
And finally, Dreamgirls is the story of a female protagonist finding the courage to face her eagerly awaiting public, even while being pressured by authority figures to remain in the background (just like The Queen.)
* The Departed
o Babel
o Letters from Iwo Jima
o Little Miss Sunshine
o The Queen
+ The Devil Wears Prada
+ Dreamgirls
+ Half Nelson
+ Pan's Labyrinth
+ United 93
------------------
2007:
2007 was one of the greatest years for movies in recent history. Go look at the Wikipedia page for 2007 In Film and try to disagree with me. Not now, do it on your own time.
First off, let's give The Diving Bell and the Butterfly a nomination for not only getting the Best Director nom, but for also being a foreign language film and a biopic. Way to hog the spotlight.
Zodiac was a critical darling, and everybody was surprised when it not only missed out on a Best Picture nom, but was completely ignored by the Academy altogether. The March release date didn't help. Well, it's a good thing I can reshape history in my image.
In addition to being a great year for cinema in general, 2007 successfully revived the Western genre with two top-notch films; 3:10 to Yuma and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Crawford. One of these two films deserves recognition. And since I'm the only one authorized to break ties, I'm declaring 3:10 to Yuma the slightly better film.
Let's give the fourth slot to Sweeney Todd. Partially because it was a musical, partially because it had mass appeal, but mostly because Tim Burton deserves an Oscar nomination by this point in his career.
Finally, Ratatouille gets a nomination because it's the token Pixar flick. And because, with films about hitmen, rape, teenage pregnancy, corruption, exploitation, frontier gunslinging, psychological torment from near-total paralysis, cannibalism and serial killers, 2007 needs an upper. As Jon Stewart said at the Oscars, "Does this town need a hug?"
* No Country for Old Men
o Atonement
o Juno
o Michael Clayton
o There Will Be Blood
+ 3:10 to Yuma
+ The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
+ Ratatouille
+ Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
+ Zodiac
---------------
2008:
I don't even have to talk about 2008. I can name the other five nominations for 2008 right here, right now. The Dark Knight, Doubt, Revolutionary Road, Wall-E, and The Wrestler.
How can I be certain? Because everybody already knows these were the other five nominations. There's no denying it. Everybody asked the same question in 2008: "Why weren't these five films nominated?"
And the Academy responded, "Because those five films were nominated."
And then everybody asked, "But why were those five films nominated, and not these five films."
And the Academy responded, "Because we can only nominate five films."
2008 was the reason the nominations were bumped up to ten. Hollywood was just producing too much quality work, and too many good films were falling through the cracks. There had to be a change. And change there was.
* Slumdog Millionaire
o The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
o Frost/Nixon
o Milk
o The Reader
+ The Dark Knight
+ Doubt
+ Revolutionary Road
+ Wall-E
+ The Wrestler
Well, thanks for joining me on this trip through an alternate universe that rejected the studio machine Oscar Bait a decade early. You're probably wondering if I'll go back further and show the alternate nominees from even earlier years, but I took a look at some of the other nominees from 1997 and 1998... Eesh. Let's leave history for the history books.
The official reasoning behind this decision was to honor more mainstream films, thus enticing more people to watch the televised ceremony. The actual reason was to alleviate guilt; no longer were members of the academy forced to kowtow to Oscar Bait. You could, if you so desired, nominate films that you enjoyed watching.
But what if the Academy had made this decision ten years earlier? What would the nominations look like from 1999-2008 if every year had ten best film nominations?
If I may be so bold:
1999:
With the exceptions of 1928, 1935 and 1989, every film that's won Best Picture has been nominated for best director. As such, we can pretty much deduce with ten nominees that any film nominated for Best Director would also receive a nomination for Best Picture. In the case of 1999, that film would be Being John Malkovich.
At the Golden Globes, Man on the Moon won best picture (musical or comedy) and best actor in a lead role (Jim Carrey), so we can assume there was more than just mild interest in this film. It's also a biopic of somebody who dies tragically young, and the Academy loves those.
We can tell based on the nominations for The Green Mile and The Sixth Sense that 1999 favored psychological mindscrews. As such, with ten nominations, we can deduce one other film would be of the same vein. The Talented Mr Ripley can fill that niche.
I don't think Toy Story 2 would receive a nomination. Pixar was still in its infancy in 1999, and animation would probably still be getting the short end of the stick. But the groundwork has been laid; critics would already be asking why Pixar didn't get a nomination. The animation ghetto argument has just advanced by nine years.
Instead, let's give the final nominations to Magnolia because its a great film that was overlooked, and The Hurricane, because boxing movies are always nominated.
* American Beauty
o The Cider House Rules
o The Green Mile
o The Insider
o The Sixth Sense
+ Being John Malkovich
+ The Hurricane
+ Magnolia
+ Man on the Moon
+ The Talented Mr Ripley
-------------------------
2000:
Wow. Just looking at the nominees for 2000, I can already see how far we've come regarding Oscar Bait.
First, Billy Elliot gets in because of the director rule (groan).
Next, we'll give a nomination to Cast Away because everybody saw it, everybody loved it, it made its impact on popular culture, and then pretty much everybody forgot about it. Just like most Best Picture nominees.
We'll give the token comedy slot to Almost Famous because it won at the Golden Globes. And because it also managed to snatch the Best Original Screenplay Oscar away from the Best Picture winner, Gladiator. Which is a feat in and of itself.
Let's give the penultimate slot to Wonder Boys. No particular reason, here.
Finally, to prove that at least someone in Hollywood had a pulse in 2001, the final slot goes to Requiem For a Dream. It was one of the essential movies in the history of Indie films, it tackled a topical and important subject matter in a unique and interesting way, and it was thrilling, provocative and stylish. Sure, Traffic had similar themes, but if you ask a film fan which movie they like better, Requiem wins 99 times out of 100. Excuse the pun, but nominating Requiem For a Dream for Best Picture would have been a big shot in the arm to the indie circuit.
* Gladiator
o Chocolat
o Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
o Erin Brockovich
o Traffic
+ Almost Famous
+ Billy Elliot
+ Cast Away
+ Requiem For a Dream
+ Wonder Boys
---------------------
2001:
First of all, congratulations to both Ridley Scott and David Lynch for their Best Director nominations. Both are master craftsmen in the medium of film, and both deserved accolades for their efforts this year, even with such tough competition. Even with such illustrious filmographies, Black Hawk Down and Mulholland Dr. are two of their strongest films. Both movies earn the first two vacant spots for Best Picture.
However, with both films touching on dark subject matter, we'll need to balance out the nominations with some significantly lighter fare; The Royal Tenenbaums snatches up spot number three. It takes the token comedy slot, it's a great script, a great ensemble cast, and I doubt there would be any objections. This will also be the only time anybody ever referred to The Royal Tenenbaums as "lighter fare."
I never understood why Amelie wasn't nominated for Best Picture. Everybody loved it. I went to college with a metalhead who only owned five DVDs, and Amelie was one of them. It's romance, it's comedy, it's enchanting, it's whimsical, and it was nominated for five other Academy Awards, but not Best Picture. Interesting trivia: only two French films have ever been nominated for Best Picture, which is odd considering France's filmography is filled with illustrious classic. But even still, with Life is Beautiful being nominated in 1998 and Crouching Tiger being nominated in 2000, maybe Academy members were just fed up with foreign films. Well, suck it up jerks. Amelie takes spot number four.
Interestingly enough, I wouldn't predict either Shrek or Monsters Inc to earn a nomination slot. If only one came out this year, certainly they would, but tragically, the vote is split between the two. Neither get the final prize.
Instead, Ali takes spot number five because boxing movies are always nominated.
* A Beautiful Mind
o Gosford Park
o In the Bedroom
o The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
o Moulin Rouge
+ Ali
+ Amelie
+ Black Hawk Down
+ Mulholland Dr.
+ The Royal Tenenbaums
----------------------
2002:
Talk to Her earns the first nomination because of the director rule, making this the fourth foreign film in five years to earn a best picture nomination. And with great competition; Spirited Away, Hero, and Y Tu Mama Tambien were all gunning for the honor as well.
In a year where the Best Picture winner is a musical about women in an all-woman's prison who love cabaret, I hesitate to say we need a token chick flick, but we need a token chick flick. A film about a forbidden romance that society says is wrong, but which the lovers pursue anyway. And this year, there was one of the best: Far From Heaven.
Adaptation takes the third spot, being the sole quirky, unconventional film out of all the nominees (if you can consider orcs and ents conventional).
For the sake of argument, let's not consider The Hours or Adaptation a full-fledged biopic. Instead, let's give that honor to Catch Me If You Can. It's also a comedy, which works in its favor. Somehow.
Finally, the last nomination goes to About Schmidt because I get the feeling lots of people liked it, but were guilted into voting for something else. It deserves a better destiny than being the butt of jokes concerning Kathy Bates and a hot tub.
* Chicago
o Gangs of New York
o The Hours
o The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
o The Pianist
+ About Schmidt
+ Adaptation
+ Catch Me If You Can
+ Far From Heaven
+ Talk to Her
---------------------
2003:
City of God takes the first spot because of the director rule. It deserves the nomination, anyway.
In the wake of 9/11, there were a lot of films about prejudice this year, such as House of Sand and Fog, In America, Dirty Pretty Things, and probably some others I'm forgetting. But if I may be so bold, I'd like to combine this category with the token comedy slot and give the nomination to Bend It Like Beckham. And no, Lost in Translation does not already fill the token comedy slot.
After years of almosts, Pixar finally gets its first nomination here with Finding Nemo. Congratulations, fishies.
Finally, let's give the last two slots to Cold Mountain and 21 Grams. Both were critically acclaimed dramas, both had a number of other nominations, and frankly, it doesn't matter what the last two nominations were, because Lord of the Rings destroyed everything in its path.
* The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
o Lost In Translation
o Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
o Mystic River
o Seabiscuit
+ 21 Grams
+ Bend it Like Beckham
+ City of God
+ Cold Mountain
+ Finding Nemo
----------------------
2004:
I'm going to go against my self-imposed director rule for one reason: It's not practical here. The film in question is Vera Drake. I know nothing about Vera Drake. I don't think anybody saw Vera Drake. And if someone did, I doubt they remember anything about it. So I'm not going to honor it. There's too many other films to nominate, anyways.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was released in March 2004. Compare this to 90% of all Oscar-nominated films which come out in December. Most people forgot about it come nomination time. I theorize if Finding Neverland and Eternal Sunshine swapped release dates, Eternal Sunshine would have earned the nomination instead. But now with ten nominees, they both get the honor.
Collateral earns a nomination as the token thriller, a genre absent from the five original nominees. AMPAS, genre films will not bite you.
Pixar shines again with a nomination for The Incredibles, an obvious choice if you ask me. But nobody ever does, which is why I've resigned myself to blogging.
After a very fortuitous year at the Emmys for Angels in America, director Mike Nichols has carryover success at the Oscars with his film Closer. It's a romance that gets the majority of the chick flick votes, especially after the disappointments that were The Phantom of the Opera, Alfie and De-Lovely.
So what film gets the fifth and final slot? Well, after Michael Moore's 2002 Best Documentary win for Bowling for Columbine, his big win at Cannes in 2004, and a general animosity by everyone throughout Hollywood towards the Bush administration, I think there's a fairly strong likelihood Fahrenheit 9/11 would snatch up a nomination for best picture. It would be the first documentary to ever be nominated outside the Best Documentary category (as far as my research reveals), and for Best Picture, no less. Hollywood does not hide its liberal bias well.
* Million Dollar Baby
o The Aviator
o Finding Neverland
o Ray
o Sideways
+ Collateral
+ Closer
+ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
+ Fahrenheit 9/11
+ The Incredibles
-------------------
2005:
In an odd turn of events, 2005 was one of four years where the Best Picture nominees matched up exactly with the Best Director nominees. So the director rule is out.
A History of Violence was lauded as one of the best films of the year, so we'll give it the token thriller slot.
In fact, let's just honor all the token stereotypes. Let's give a nomination to The Squid and the Whale for comedy (Baumbach/Raimi dichotomy be damned).
The Constant Gardner gets a nomination for being politically topical and provocative.
Walk the Line gets a nomination for being a combination musical and biopic (and because it's basically Ray, but with country singers).
And finally, Cinderella Man gets a nom because boxing movies are always nominated.
* Crash
o Brokeback Mountain
o Capote
o Good Night, and Good Luck
o Munich
+ Cinderella Man
+ The Constant Gardener
+ A History of Violence
+ The Squid and the Whale
+ Walk the Line
-------------------
2006:
United 93 gets the first nomination. It was nominated for Best Director, and because 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11.
I'm hesitant to name any others nominees, because the nominations for 2006 seem to hit all the marks: Action, social drama, indie comedy, a biopic and a foreign language film (even though Letters From Iwo Jima was produced in America). But all hesitations aside, I've got a blog post to finish. Let's just double up on everything.
Half-Nelson is another social drama exploring societal and class relations across differing ethnic backgrounds only to reach the conclusion that we're not all that different (just like Babel.)
Pan's Labyrinth is the story of a young protagonist searching for escape and salvation from hostile authority figures, war, and an assured death. And its presented in a foreign language (just like Letters From Iwo Jima.)
The Devil Wears Prada is a comedy about a female protagonist trying to advance in an industry ruled by superficial standards of beauty, only to discover the best way to live is by embracing your flaws (just like Little Miss Sunshine.)
And finally, Dreamgirls is the story of a female protagonist finding the courage to face her eagerly awaiting public, even while being pressured by authority figures to remain in the background (just like The Queen.)
* The Departed
o Babel
o Letters from Iwo Jima
o Little Miss Sunshine
o The Queen
+ The Devil Wears Prada
+ Dreamgirls
+ Half Nelson
+ Pan's Labyrinth
+ United 93
------------------
2007:
2007 was one of the greatest years for movies in recent history. Go look at the Wikipedia page for 2007 In Film and try to disagree with me. Not now, do it on your own time.
First off, let's give The Diving Bell and the Butterfly a nomination for not only getting the Best Director nom, but for also being a foreign language film and a biopic. Way to hog the spotlight.
Zodiac was a critical darling, and everybody was surprised when it not only missed out on a Best Picture nom, but was completely ignored by the Academy altogether. The March release date didn't help. Well, it's a good thing I can reshape history in my image.
In addition to being a great year for cinema in general, 2007 successfully revived the Western genre with two top-notch films; 3:10 to Yuma and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Crawford. One of these two films deserves recognition. And since I'm the only one authorized to break ties, I'm declaring 3:10 to Yuma the slightly better film.
Let's give the fourth slot to Sweeney Todd. Partially because it was a musical, partially because it had mass appeal, but mostly because Tim Burton deserves an Oscar nomination by this point in his career.
Finally, Ratatouille gets a nomination because it's the token Pixar flick. And because, with films about hitmen, rape, teenage pregnancy, corruption, exploitation, frontier gunslinging, psychological torment from near-total paralysis, cannibalism and serial killers, 2007 needs an upper. As Jon Stewart said at the Oscars, "Does this town need a hug?"
* No Country for Old Men
o Atonement
o Juno
o Michael Clayton
o There Will Be Blood
+ 3:10 to Yuma
+ The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
+ Ratatouille
+ Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
+ Zodiac
---------------
2008:
I don't even have to talk about 2008. I can name the other five nominations for 2008 right here, right now. The Dark Knight, Doubt, Revolutionary Road, Wall-E, and The Wrestler.
How can I be certain? Because everybody already knows these were the other five nominations. There's no denying it. Everybody asked the same question in 2008: "Why weren't these five films nominated?"
And the Academy responded, "Because those five films were nominated."
And then everybody asked, "But why were those five films nominated, and not these five films."
And the Academy responded, "Because we can only nominate five films."
2008 was the reason the nominations were bumped up to ten. Hollywood was just producing too much quality work, and too many good films were falling through the cracks. There had to be a change. And change there was.
* Slumdog Millionaire
o The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
o Frost/Nixon
o Milk
o The Reader
+ The Dark Knight
+ Doubt
+ Revolutionary Road
+ Wall-E
+ The Wrestler
Well, thanks for joining me on this trip through an alternate universe that rejected the studio machine Oscar Bait a decade early. You're probably wondering if I'll go back further and show the alternate nominees from even earlier years, but I took a look at some of the other nominees from 1997 and 1998... Eesh. Let's leave history for the history books.
12/06/2010
Smile and wave, try to behave, be happy that they've made you a celebrity
There is a pre-requisite for reading this post. I'd like you to watch two separate viral videos:
Okay. On we go.
What does it mean to be a celebrity? A celebrity is anybody whose deeds, actions, or career has made that person known to individuals without having personally met them. There are different grades of celebrity. Most well-known are A-listers, the superstars known by many, even if their fame is not particularly justified. A-list stars are money machines, the result of marketing and exploitation. They're not in the entertainment industry for noble reasons, they want awards and money and fans and more money. When you get a bunch of A-listers together, it usually turns into something like this:
GAH!
KILL IT!
KILL IT WITH SOMETHING STRONGER THAN FIRE!
You could firebomb the whole building, and the only loss would be Jeff Bridges and a recording studio. Why the hell is Vince Vaughn even there? Jeff Bridges won an Oscar for playing a musician in Crazy Heart, so he can justify showing up, even if his reasoning is half-assed. But Vince Vaughn looks like he got lost somewhere and needs to call a taxi. And another thing, when did Vince Vaughn start sucking? He was the coolest guy in the world in 2005, then he and Owen Wilson spontaneously decided they would rather suck. Did the awesomeness of Wedding Crashers result in their collective talent collapsing inward and destroying itself like a neutron star?
Sometimes celebrities just fall out of the limelight. The first video is full of this type of celebrity. Celebrities who once had clout and could once grace magazine covers, but either through bad decisions or personal reasons, have receded to the shadows.
Sometimes celebrities and audiences refuse to admit this. Look at Cameron Diaz and Nicole Kidman. Both of them haven't been in a decent film since 2002 (Gangs of New York and The Others, respectively). Mike Meyers and Eddie Murphy used to be comedy legends, now they couldn't tell a knock-knock joke without crapping all over it. Hell, Tom Cruise used to be the biggest draw in Hollywood with six consecutive films grossing over $100 million, but he couldn't keep his personal life separate from his career and completely screwed himself over.
And yet, despite Vince, Owen, Cameron, Nicole, Mike, Eddie and Tom not having a leg to stand on, they're still considered A-listers and still receive upwards of $25 million per film.
The other type of B-list actor is featured in the second video. The kind who work, and work, and work, but never reach A-list status. They put forth twice the effort, and earn a fraction of the fame. When these types take on a job, it's not for a paycheck, it's an actual honest-to-god career move. They work on the projects they want, they work with the people they want, and they produce quality. Even if this means very few people will ever see their projects.
They usually get a leg-up from the few honest-to-goodness quality actors who manage to crossover to A-list status. While I've never considered myself a Will Ferrell fan, Funny or Die has been a driving forces for aspiring comedians, and has done wonders for the field.
With these two factions clearly defined, we ask ourselves the question: which group of B-list celebrities is the truer representation of the B-list status? If advertisers were clamoring for celebrity spokesmen, who would make a bigger impact: a celebrity very few would recognize, but would greatly appreciate or a celebrity many would recognize, but few would appreciate?
Just some food for thought.
Okay. On we go.
What does it mean to be a celebrity? A celebrity is anybody whose deeds, actions, or career has made that person known to individuals without having personally met them. There are different grades of celebrity. Most well-known are A-listers, the superstars known by many, even if their fame is not particularly justified. A-list stars are money machines, the result of marketing and exploitation. They're not in the entertainment industry for noble reasons, they want awards and money and fans and more money. When you get a bunch of A-listers together, it usually turns into something like this:
GAH!
KILL IT!
KILL IT WITH SOMETHING STRONGER THAN FIRE!
You could firebomb the whole building, and the only loss would be Jeff Bridges and a recording studio. Why the hell is Vince Vaughn even there? Jeff Bridges won an Oscar for playing a musician in Crazy Heart, so he can justify showing up, even if his reasoning is half-assed. But Vince Vaughn looks like he got lost somewhere and needs to call a taxi. And another thing, when did Vince Vaughn start sucking? He was the coolest guy in the world in 2005, then he and Owen Wilson spontaneously decided they would rather suck. Did the awesomeness of Wedding Crashers result in their collective talent collapsing inward and destroying itself like a neutron star?
Sometimes celebrities just fall out of the limelight. The first video is full of this type of celebrity. Celebrities who once had clout and could once grace magazine covers, but either through bad decisions or personal reasons, have receded to the shadows.
Sometimes celebrities and audiences refuse to admit this. Look at Cameron Diaz and Nicole Kidman. Both of them haven't been in a decent film since 2002 (Gangs of New York and The Others, respectively). Mike Meyers and Eddie Murphy used to be comedy legends, now they couldn't tell a knock-knock joke without crapping all over it. Hell, Tom Cruise used to be the biggest draw in Hollywood with six consecutive films grossing over $100 million, but he couldn't keep his personal life separate from his career and completely screwed himself over.
And yet, despite Vince, Owen, Cameron, Nicole, Mike, Eddie and Tom not having a leg to stand on, they're still considered A-listers and still receive upwards of $25 million per film.
The other type of B-list actor is featured in the second video. The kind who work, and work, and work, but never reach A-list status. They put forth twice the effort, and earn a fraction of the fame. When these types take on a job, it's not for a paycheck, it's an actual honest-to-god career move. They work on the projects they want, they work with the people they want, and they produce quality. Even if this means very few people will ever see their projects.
They usually get a leg-up from the few honest-to-goodness quality actors who manage to crossover to A-list status. While I've never considered myself a Will Ferrell fan, Funny or Die has been a driving forces for aspiring comedians, and has done wonders for the field.
With these two factions clearly defined, we ask ourselves the question: which group of B-list celebrities is the truer representation of the B-list status? If advertisers were clamoring for celebrity spokesmen, who would make a bigger impact: a celebrity very few would recognize, but would greatly appreciate or a celebrity many would recognize, but few would appreciate?
Just some food for thought.
6/02/2010
Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin
After seeing The Runaways at SXSW (yeah, I'm still name-dropping that), I gave it a review of 3/5. I'd like to amend that.Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart are two of the finest young actors working in Hollywood. Possibly the two best under 21. While both appeared together in some little-known Vampire franchise, possibly a SyFy channel original, here is where they display their acting prowess in full force.
Both Fanning and Stewart, together, in their primes, should be admired and acknowledged by even the mildest of movie fans. I say without hyperbole Kristen Stewart's portrayal of Joan Jett is Oscar-caliber. And while Dakota Fanning's depiction of Cherie Curie gets overly dramatic in the third act, it hardly sullies an otherwise fine film.
My other large problem with The Runways was the implementation of the standard musician biopic formula. Practically every film documenting a musicians life follows the three-and-a-half act formula:
1) I'm Nobody
2) I'm Famous
3) I'm on drugs
3.5) I'm dead/I'm clean/I'm nobody again.
This isn't the fault of The Runaways, and the film shouldn't shoulder the blame. It's inescapable. It's an overused structure because so many musicians invariably fall victim to this lifestyle. While it is a tad tiresome projected on the big screen for the 822nd time, it's at least honest and accurate. Would it be better if the third act began with Joan helping Cherie kick her drug habit, then swearing off vice altogether, traveling the country warning young girls of the dangers of drugs and alcohol?
As a result of my recent softening, I hereby redact my previous rating of The Runaways from 3/5, and replace it with 4/5.
But why now? Why wait three months to change my mind? Simply put: The Distributor fucked up. Of all the SXSW films, very few wound up getting distributed. Even fewer would be distributed to theaters. As mentioned before, Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning are very talented actresses, but more importantly, they're popular. Popular means bankable. Bankable means returns. Returns means profit (take note, Underpants Gnomes).
All over SXSW, I saw posters and heard buzz about The Runaways. It was one of the headlining films. People wanted to see this movie. When The Runaways made its way to my homestead, St. Louis, I heard nothing about it. Nothing. With the exception of a listing in the movie timetables of the newspaper and a poster inside the theater in which it was currently playing, The Runaways received no press.
And who is at fault for all of this? None other than Apparition, a newly-formed distribution company and subsidiary of Sony Pictures Worldwide. Focusing on arthouse cinema, Apparition completely dropped the ball concerning The Runaways. With the legion of fangirls who would empty their piggy banks for the privilege of seeing a new film starring Fanning and Stewart, regardless of content, the film would have retaken it's 10 million dollar budget in a single weekend.
But that's not all. In addition to catering to fangirls, the film would also appeal to audiophiles with its depiction of one of the most famous, game-changing rock bands in history. It also had great writing, powerful acting, and a strong feminist undertone. The Runaways should have been widely released. It should have been a Summer release and surprise blockbuster. It should have had magazine ads, and radio ads, and TV ads, and trailers before other blockbuster films. Instead, it played on a total of 244 theaters. It barely grossed 3.5 million.
Has Apparition heard of marketing? The process of attracting consumers and informing them of a products existence and quality?
Circling back to my original point, The Runaways needs all the support it can get. Apparition doesn't know anything, including how to distribute a film. Audiences barely had a chance to know the movie existed. And critics, like myself, were probably too harsh concerning the genre and its pratfalls. The Runaways does not deserve the hand it was dealt, and while my efforts may be futile at this point, I'm at least making an effort to espouse the quality of a good movie. Which is more than Apparition can claim.
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