March 7, 2006

Reverse Overanalysis II

"Why aren't the movies as good as they used to be?"

The question includes an answer. Like "Have you stopped beating your wife?," the assumption is inherent… movies must be worse now than they were then.

But the first question that has to be answered while pursuing this line of inquiry is whether, in truth, movies really have gotten worse. Of course, complicating this question enormously is the evolution of other delivery systems that have changed the kind of movies that are made. For instance, dramas centering on women became virtually extinct for over a decade as Movies Of The Week became incredibly popular and essentially replaced the theatrical market for these films. Pornography has become a Home Entertainment business. And while the independent film movement of the 80s expanded the interest in a wider array of genres, the studio involvement and success of The Dependents have changed, yet again, the definition of an "indie," most recently making what are called "indies" into $20 million and $30 million films that used to be called "moderately budgeted" studio films. (The popular illusion is that these films have been "sloughed off" to the Dependent arms when, in reality, the only difference between divisions tends to be a different marketing plan and a focus on movies that speak to smaller niches than some of the more mainstream entertainment.)

Of course, a large percentage of people reading this have likely already shrugged their shoulders and rolled their eyes since I have even asked the question. It's so obvious. Everybody knows films are worse. Everybody knows studios have been dumbed down. Eveybody knows…

When "everybody knows" something, it usually turns out that nobody is looking too closely.

We have more choices as filmgoers and film lovers now than ever before in history. Not all of our options make themselves apparent as studio movies… or as Dependent releases… or even as theatrical releases. But the options are there. And the free market rarely does what people interested in serious, demanding, thoughtful movies would like it to do. And so, we tend to come up with answers by way of Reverse Overanalysis.

"Audiences have had their expectations reduced by too many bad studio films."

"Audiences don't demand quality films because the studios have given them so few that they don't even know what to demand."

"Studios don't want to make quality films."

"Studios have forgotten how to make quality films."

But the reality is that it is infinitely more complex than this. Every film has its own life. There are tendencies at different studios. There are different relationships between the big divisions and the "indie" divisions of these companies, five of six of which also have television divisions as significant, if not more significant, than the film divisions.

For instance, 20th Century Fox released 18 movies last year, one (Star Wars) only as a distributor/marketer. Four of the in-house titles cost over $60 million to produce. One was a thriller/comedy, directed by a highly respected young director, Doug Liman, known for his earnest approach to his films. One was an animated film. One was absolute junk, "product," designed to take advantage of a very popular comic book's following and teen interest in effects. And the fourth was a very serious Ridley Scott period piece about war and peace and the Middle East.

Only one of the films bombed at the domestic box office, though Kingdom of Heaven recovered quite well overseas. But my question is, what was Fox to do? Was Doug Liman a hire lacking in ambition? Was funding Ridley Scott's film - even though the studio did force him to cut the film in post - less than the old studio bosses would do… or more? Yes, The Fantastic Four sucked and was less aesthetically ambitious than it probably should have been. And Robots was a bet on a filmmaker than didn't deliver quality, even if it did fine at the box office.

On the next budget step down, Fox made movies with Curtis Hanson, Marc Forster, and tried to make something of a Nick Hornsby novel. They did a movie with indie master Michael London that cost about the same as Sideways did in 2004. And they made a Jim Mangold film that resulted in strong reviews, terrific box office, and an Oscar for Reese Witherspoon.

And they did three bad sequels, a bad Martin Lawrence vehicle for kids, a by-the-book thriller with Robert DeNiro, three unsuccessful kids films, and a dog movie.

Where was the mistake in the ambition of this studio? Would perception have been different if Walk The Line was Oscar nominated? If Ridley Scott had found a way to make more of a success of Kingdom of Heaven, would that have changed the intent of the studio, which is the issue at the heart of the "how have things gone wrong" attacks?

Does anyone really think that the studio said to itself and its employees, "We don't care if Elektra sucks!"? The most basic level of discourse suggests that the financial benefit of quality should be enough.

The New York Times' Manohla Dargis suggested this last weekend, "…The audience's indifference to Munich (indifference that most certainly has nothing to do with the political hysteria that greeted the film) suggests that in his capacity as a reigning auteur of the modern blockbuster, Mr. Spielberg has helped create an audience more interested in his talents as a rollercoaster operator than as an artist."

How does it suggest that…. specifically? Munich suffered, in my opinion, from a marketing effort that was reliant on awards and accolades that even when achieved were barely seen or heard over the noise of the political hysteria that greeted the film. Spielberg's more serious films - The Color Purple, Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan and A.I. all significantly outgrossed Munich. Even Amistad came close to matching the Munich box office domestically. So when exactly did Spielberg hoist himself on his own petard?

And has Manohla and criticdom in general become greedy to live in the bog house with the blockbusters? Because here is the flip side… of his six "serious" films, only Saving Private Ryan passed $100 million domestic.

I am greedy for more too. I desperately wanted Focus Features to do more with The Constant Gardener in the awards race. But hey… it was made… it did decent box office… Rachel Weisz has an Oscar… what more should I stomp my feet and demand?

A History of Violence wasn't quite as lucky, but again, it was made… New Line let David Cronenberg work with Josh Olsen to get the script where he wanted it to be, which was harder to sell than the graphic novel Olsen started adapting…. And it did okay business… and it won the Voice poll… and it would have been great if it had done more business and gotten more Oscar nods. But it was made! And it was sold. And what kind of success would make us comfortable with the state of the studios and their artistic intent?

Good Night, And Good Luck and Syriana were made by the same company, both release by Warner Bros, and both had some additional partners in the process. Looking at the results of each film… assessing their quality… does not make any difference to the answer to the question of Warners interest in making these kinds of movies… or at least, it should not.

Disney made a high-strung Steve Martin drama. Universal took risks on Jarhead and Munich. Columbia went into Memoirs of a Geisha with serious intent and let Steve Zaillian have the time to finish his movie at great cost, including having the studio have another serious Oscar contender.

Some of our great directors worked this year, but not all of them. Scorsese is working on a cop thriller that may or may not have police overtones. Soderbergh was working on a film for 2007… so was Fincher… so was Eastwood. Sofia Coppola easily got the money to do exactly what she wanted with Marie Antoinette. Niki Caro had her first studio movie… and it wasn't terribly good. Polanski's 2005 offering downright sucked. Todd Field and Bob Altman both have movies due this year. Ang Lee went to the mountains, Sam Mendes went to the desert, and Michael Mann went to work in Miami again.

I'm not saying that there are not terrible movies or that 2005 was a great year. It was not. But it was just last year when The Passion of the Christ and Fahrenheit 9/11 were in the Top 20 and, regardless of how each of us feel about the quality of the films, were certainly dead serious. Plus Million Dollar Baby, The Aviator and Collateral were all $100 million movies.

We now live in a media world where $60 million in domestic box office for a period movie about boxing in the Depression is not enough. And it's not just "not enough"… it's a bomb.

And independent film has suffered mightily from its success. Almost every Dependent, except Sony Classics, is now using its niche expertise to chase genre dollars instead of investing in foreign language films, challenging docs, and the youngest, most ambitious talented filmmakers. No doubt there is a void in that part of the business. But when you show up at Sundance and see movie after movie that is obsessed with offering a commercial hook, you have to blame the filmmakers as well.

All is not well in Mudville. But the analysis must be spread a bit thinner… like the blame.

Wrap up tomorrow…

EMe.