I’ve seen The Avengers twice so far, and will likely see it again in the near future. If you haven’t seen the film already, or don’t care too, you might want to go ahead and click away now.
Still here? Seriously, this post is about to get spoilerish…you’ve been warned.
The subscriber exodus from Netflix following their price hike has been eye opening. The company continues to take a beating on the stock market, and the announced intent to split the company into two separate entities (one focused on mailed disc-media rentals, the other on streaming content) has done little to thwart the rapid decline. If anything, the decision to name the new offshoot Qwikster (the butt of many jokes) combined with the unfortunate @qwikster account on Twitter has provided fodder for the comedic onslaught.
Somewhere along the way the company lost touch, and in turn it compromised the trust built up over the years between countless Netflix subscribers and a company who clearly seemed to “get it” from the onset — or so it seemed from the outside looking in. How did the company that foresaw the demise of disc media come up with the idea to split the company in two and apply a name seemingly rejected from every web 2.0 startup naming pool?
Anyone not paying close enough attention to the events as they’ve unfolded could easily blame the attrition on the price hike, after all this was the tipping point for a large group of people who’d grown accustomed to the virtues of Netflix’s service. Unfortunately the truth is that the poorly handled fee hike was just the result of the company’s detachment from reality, a side effect brought on by distancing themselves from the very things that built the company up as a disruptive service to a growing audience seeking new ways to access their content.
The rumor mill is churning with buzz around Quentin Tarantino’s latest script, and it sounds as if the film is set to roll in December. I can’t dish the dirt on Will Smith vs. Jamie Foxx. I have no clue who is tracking to play the leading female role in the film.
But I’ve read Django Unchained. That has to count for something.
If you haven’t read Mark Harris’ excellent GQ op-ed titled “The Day the Movies Died” yet, you really should. In it, Harris selects the Summer of ’87 release of Top Gun as the titular moment in history, and for good reason. Many will instinctually question the choice, citing releases like Star Wars and Jaws instead, but the article is much more than mere film-nerd “What if…” play — it’s aimed at a real trend in the industry that has shaped the new modern day studio system. Enough pretense. If you haven’t given it a read, go do so now.
Harris’ analysis of marketed film is right on the money, but there is a deeper corrosion at play. Roger Ebert has discussed the death of film criticism in wake of the rising “CelebCult” before, but I intend to carry this a step further. First, Ebert was speaking specifically about criticism in print. Second, Ebert’s thesis centers around the demand for printed gossip, which doesn’t necessarily align with Harris’ assertion that the age of “A-list celebrity as product” has come and gone in Hollywood, replaced instead by “proven product” — sequels, remakes, etc.
So what do I mean by death of film criticism? In film school, my circle of cineastes looked forward to each and every release. The late-90s — early-aughts were an extremely exciting times for American cinema. I’m not going to be so bold as to declare it a movement, it wasn’t. Not every film released was golden, but one can hardly deny that there was an incredible balance of high-concept films released, above and beyond the sequel / spandex genre. Films like Mulholland Dr., Boogie Nights, Requiem for a Dream, Fight Club, The Big Lebowski, The Thin Red Line, Rushmore, He Got Game, Happiness, Memento, American Psycho, Almost Famous, Traffic, Bringing Out The Dead, The Matrix, The Sixth Sense, American Beauty, and many more.
I mention these films for very specific reasons — many of them represent original screenplays, adapted works from lesser-known sources, early films from budding directors, anticipated vehicles from established auteurs, or perhaps most importantly many are, to some degree, polarizing efforts. It was a great time to be studying film theory. But it was ultimately killed, not just by a push to marketing as Harris illustrates, but also by cynicism, in fighting, and the inability to appreciate what we had. What happened?
We went to see Scott Pilgrim vs. The World again today, and before the film began I tweeted about it, cc’ing Edgar Wright (the director) alongside a mention that the theater was nearly full.
Upon emerging from the theater I found this DM notification on my phone.
Yes, I’m geeking out a little bit…I mean, c’mon?! The director of Spaced, Shaun of the Dead, and Hot Fuzz messaged me!
The whole day sort of came together on a whim. Over a bowl of pho at lunch I mentioned to Dee that I’ve been wanting to watch Scott Pilgrim vs. The World a second time — in part because I really loved the film, but also as a show of support for something I wish would’ve gotten a fairer shake at the box office.
So we decided to do it.
While waiting for the film to start, I thought it would be fun to let Edgar know that I was watching the film again. Sort of a geeky attempt at showing solidarity via Twitter. I never expected a response, but it sure was cool to see that my tweet registered with him. If you haven’t watched the film yet, or even if you have, why not check it out (again)?
And speaking of films to check out, you may have noticed H.P. Mendoza‘s Twitter handle and a mention of Fruit Fly in that exchange of tweets. If you haven’t checked out Fruit Fly or Colma, do yourself a favor. And Edgar Wright, if you happen to be reading this make sure to add Fruit Fly to your DVD/Blu-Ray queue when it comes out…I’d love to hear what you think of it.
OK, back to our regularly scheduled programming.
OK Go’s latest video, the second they’ve produced for their song “This Too Shall Pass” sparked this post. My wife was catching up on the goings on around the web this morning at breakfast, and despite having been sent the video 100 times I’d yet to actually watch it. Mind you, I’ve followed the backstory and was totally aware of the motivations behind the move by the band. I’d just neglected to actually sit down and watch the damn thing. It’s good, and I’ve embedded below for those who, like me, were somehow living under a rock all week.
The driving force behind this post was to discuss the band’s deft use of transparency to create viral videos, promote their work, and singlehandedly become a household name through the use of social media and the Interwebs. I’ll get to all of that, because it’s fun. But first, a primer.
Media companies typically wrestle with issues of transparency, and to say that they “don’t get it” is an understatement. There are exceptions to every rule, but most of these exceptions extend from businesses and brands whose core business is closely linked to their consumers and customer support. Before we dive into this, let’s take a look at some of the brands that have successfully jumped onto the transparency wagon in positive and impacting ways.
It’s been an interesting decade for comic book films, with plenty of ups and downs. Here’s a look at the best and worst comic book films of the decade:
Top 10 Comic Book Films of the Decade
1. The Dark Knight
While Batman Begins rebooted the franchise, it was Nolan’s The Dark Knight that reinvented the franchise, elevating it to cinematic excellence. Gotham, for once, feels like a living city. Absent are the Burton-esque fronts, and frames packed with gothic throwbacks. There is Ledger’s brilliant turn as the Joker, his take on the character being both unique and defining. To know that we will never get to revisit this level of performance is quite discouraging. The rest of the film is packed full of excellent supporting performances. The Harvey Dent/Two Face arc is rendered with perfection, although admittedly it would be nice to see Two Face return in the future. In all, this is the definitive Batman film. Period.
2. The Incredibles
I neglected to include this film in my Top 25 Films of the Decade list, and I assure you it was an oversight. Brad Bird’s animated take on superheroes is a cornerstone for this generation’s comic geeks. It’s the cinematic counterpart to the gateway comics of my youth. While a simple yarn about a super powered family could have been sufficient for most, Bird and Pixar are never complacent with settling for the simple or the obvious. Instead, we are given a reflection on family, fatherhood, and the sacrifices inherent in parenthood. It goes without saying that Pixar makes great family friendly movies, but it should be overstated that they also make great cinema that also happens to be family friendly as well.
3. Spider-Man 2
Raimi’s second foray into the Spider-Man franchise was, quite simply, the best superhero film of the decade. That is until Nolan swept in with a sequel of his own that completely bumped Raimi’s effort down a few pegs. But, despite this bump Spider-Man 2 still remains one of the decade’s best. We finally get the conflict necessary to make the Peter Parker / Mary Jane Watson story arc take shape, and we’re given more allusions to the pending confrontation with The Lizard. Tops amongst all of this is the delicate balance of the Green Goblin story arc in support of a brilliant performance from Alfred Molina as Doc Ock. Hands down, his was an excellent portrayal of the villain, and had Heath Ledger not turned in his brilliant Joker performance, Molina would have easily won the title of Best Adapted Super Villain of the Decade. It’s still damned good nonetheless.
4. Sin City
They said it couldn’t be filmed. Then Robert Rodriguez went ahead and fought for it anyway. He even managed to woo Frank Miller, who had ultimately sworn off of working with the Hollywood machine, into joining the project. That said, Miller is best in doses (especially cinematically, see The Spirit below), and partnering with Rodriguez seemed to provide the right mix. Who could’ve predicted that Rodriguez would be the one “reigning things in” in this collaborative effort. He’s usually the one going off the rails at every turn, wading in the balls out deep end with glee (see Grindhouse). Anyway, for fans of the graphic novel, this is about as good as it gets. You can feel the pulp, you can smell the pages. This is a comic book movie for comic book lovers, and it’s drenched in excellent performances.
5. Iron Man
I seriously underestimated this film when it was released. Not only is it a good turn in terms of comic book adaptations (for the most part, the characters come to life in a world that is for the most part believable), but it is also a harbinger of what could be. Imagine if Marvel were to put this level of care and craft (and vision) behind other “Avenger films.” They could accomplish the ultimate coup — a comic book crossover film. Let’s face it, the ultimate undiscovered country in the world of comic book cinema is the team up, or the crossover. Comics can hardly span an issue without a cameo or a crossover these days, and many of the better books out there are the result of years of comic book crossovers (Avengers, Justice League). So, while the future may look a little grim (please let Iron Man 2 rock), for now we have Favreau’s excellent experiment with Tony Stark, and aside from a rather flat role for Pepper, it’s a pretty good ride.
Recently a friend of mine passed around Mick LaSalle’s “Best Films of the Decade” list, and the email thread inspired me to cobble together my own list. So follow the link to view my full top 25, with a few considerations. My list is based on the films I’ve screened, so it is by no means intended to be a complete cinematic analysis of the decade. I’ve pared films down by the ones that have stuck with me since the initial screening.
Top 25 Films
1. Mulholland Dr.
2. 25th Hour
3. Amelie
4. There Will Be Blood
5. In The Mood For Love
Back in 2002, director Gaspar Noé unleashed the emotional onslaught Irréversible upon the world. At the Cannes film festival, reports of audiences walking out (and in some cases fainting) during screenings piqued interest in the film. Reactions poured in, and people questioned Noé’s motivation behind using acts of brutality and ultra-violence as centerpieces in the film. 
As if by dare, cinephiles around the globe climbed into theaters to answer the question, “Is Irréversible a brilliant rebuttal to the revenge film, or merely an shameful exercise in gimmickry?” Defenders of the former argued that while sensational, the reworked timeline and presentation of the violent acts combined to create a dissertation on the fragility and futility of life. After all, the tagline for the film is, “Time destroys everything.”
Detractors felt Noé was guilty of painting a hateful and homophobic picture of homosexual men — specifically by portraying Le Tenia (Jo Prestia) first as a violent rapist, and later being beaten to death by Marcus (Vincent Cassel) with a fire extinguisher. The feeling at the time was that Le Tenia did not need to be homosexual for the plot to work, and that in doing so Noé created an opportunity to literally and viscerally gay bash.
My take, which is wholly based on multiple viewing of the film, is that Le Tenia’s orientation and backstory is actually used to create added confusion, something that is rarely captured in films dealing with these types of scenarios. Our brains are hardwired to seek out a sense of understanding when confronted with the unexplainable, and our desire to reason through the unreasonable often creates frustration when processing complex crimes such as rape.
Personally, Noé’s decision to reverse chronology trumps the accusation of homophobic revenge tale. We witness the crime resulting from Le Tenia’s actions before we ever see what he is supposedly guilty of. Note the word choice, as Marcus is as guilty (if not moreso) of committing a crime in the end. The ultimate message behind the film resonates more in the “what does revenge solve?” camp, than that of the redemption tale.
Chalk it up to personal preference, but modern horror is completely underwhelming. Sure, much of the moralty found in classics of the genre delves into the realm of extreme fundamentalism, but the best films sink into the slow and steady build to a level of chaos that is equal parts sensually visceral and psychologically disturbing. If a film leaves me questioning, “How could this happen?” then it’s typically hit it’s mark.
Modern horror, increasingly referred to as “nu-horror,” rarely touches upon these fundamentals. Instead, they substitute plot, tension, and character-development for senseless gore and violence. True, the house that Saw built harkens back to aspects of older gore-heavy classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but it sacrifices the macabre, the gothic Americana if you will, that somehow justified the gore. Even the remakes of these classics eschew substance over piles of defiled and carved-up bodies.Which is a long-winded way of getting to director Ti West‘s latest film, The House of the Devil.
A few days ago, a group of friends emailed me about a horror movie night they were planning. They’d compiled a short list of films to consider, and I added to their list. While it ran through the pre-requisite canon of horror, it still lacked anything recent worth watching. In hindsight, I should have included The Strangers, but spaced on it at the time.
Unable to attend, I found myself scrambling to work in some horror film viewing over the Halloween weekend. After re-watching The Gate on cable, I decided to crack open The House of the Devil, which is available in limited release and more interesting Video On Demand (Comcast, U-verse, and more).
West is gaining traction with his retro throwback style and approach, but to his credit the proclivity to homage never crosses into style over substance — think more Death Proof than Planet Terror here. He continues the trend with Devil, and never wavers throughout the film.