On Movies
Sometimes it takes only the most innocuous conversational spark to set my mental wheels turning. Meatloaf posts an offhand comment about Eagles football, two weeks later we’re in the middle of an extended tilt covering drugs, politics, and drugs in political commentators. Wil makes a comment about lightsabres, three years later I’m working on a series of con worthy (I hope) panels originally conceived to prove him wrong. Gabi dashes off a short post about military headstones, two weeks later we’re talkin’ baseball. Insanity. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about movies. I love movies, and I am infinitely pleased (one might even say grateful) that I have the capability to seek out the movies I like, rather than having to settle for what happens to be available. The Academy awards are tonight, essentially a celebration of what happened to be available from the previous year. Now, don’t get me wrong, some of them were really good. Last year, into this one I had gone on this tear of trying to watch the winner and a few other nominees and significant mentions for best picture (on review, I missed more than I thought I did. I thought Eastern Promises had been in the running). For the same unnamed reason, I tried to see some of the acclaimed stuff this year too. Didn’t work out too well. I wanted to see Slumdog Millionaire, had planned to see it on two separate occasions, blew it both times (although I did see Benjamin Button instead on the second). I saw the Wrestler too, but it missed the Best Picture nom. Damn. I, like many, wondered where the Dark Knight would fall. Got a bunch of minor nominations, the biggest being best supporting actor, which, lets face it, it has already won. Wil has lamented that a genre movie will never get nominated for, much less win, best picture (Lord of the Rings notwithstanding, of course). Having pondered this for a while, because, y’know, what else do I have to do with my life?; I’ve come to realize that he’s probably right, and I even think I’m getting a handle on why that is, but this has also come with a realization that, in the end, it really doesn’t matter. Yes, I’m about to type at length about why I think something is not important…
So, what makes a good movie? In a nutshell, I’ve realized that how you answer that question determines what movies you will like. What does the Academy consider a good movie? Well, if the recent best picture winners are any indication, it generally has to be one of two things: taut, personal drama or, amusingly, the complete opposite: sweeping epic. If they have some basis in actual history, so much the better, the idea that real people have done things that merit heroic retelling definitely seems to resonate with the academy voting bloc. What doesn’t the academy consider worthy of best pic consideration? Pretty much everything else. Sure, every once in a while they have a “holy shit, other genre’s exist” moment, Shakespeare in Love was a comedy (about an actual historical personage, mind you) which inexplicably beat out Saving Private Ryan (historical epic), but for the most part the academy seems to stick to that with which it’s comfortable. There are no epics up for best pic this year, but there are three dramas based on real people/events. Slumdog Millionaire, which I would consider the frontrunner, is not one of them. Makes me wonder.
But getting back to the original question, the academy seems to favor drama. And what’s the opposite of drama? Action. What do genre movies need? Action. And lots of it. It’s what makes them genre movies. But the academy seems to view extended action set pieces as largely skippable when considering if a movie is “good”. Action, it would seem, does little to move the story forward. Yes, some action may be necessary, but if the action goes on for a second longer that is strictly necessary to push the story along, the academy seems to consider it wasted film. Does batman really need to take five minutes out of the runtime to beat the crap out of a gang of thugs? Will this have any effect on the final resolution? Does it do anything to help define the character? No? Not really? must be crap. Now, they do seem to be a little more lenient with the epics. It seems to be a question of runtimes and proportions. If you’re fielding a three hour movie, you can afford to put a few more minutes of action in. Furthermore, a lot of the epics deal with wars in which, it could be argued, action if vital to the story. But, essentially, unless you’ve got a cast of thousands and a budget of hundreds of millions, anything more than a few scattered snippets of action will make a film anathema to serious academy consideration.
The academy seems to like movies that “say something”. I also like movies that “say something”. I find that a well made movie can achieve a level of poignance far and away superior to more vulgar forms of message sending like, say, some asswipe’s blog post. But that’s not the only reason I may like a movie, and it’s not the only type of movie I like. It’s also not the only reason movies are made, and it’s definitely not the only reason movies are watched.
Many, I’d go so far as to say most, people watch movies, first and foremost, to be entertained. And what people find entertaining is largely a very personal preference. Yes, working a moral, or a message, or some biting social commentary into the mix can enhance or, failing that, at least not detract from the viewing experience, but those things are not an essential ingredient of a good film. In fact, a message done half assed or ineptly can actually do more net harm than good considering the corners that need to be cut and edges that need to be buffed to make complex issued even remotely comprehensible in the average film’s run time, to say nothing of the whitewashing or sugar coating required to make some of the more bitter elements palatable enough to make the average filmgoer part with ten bucks to be subjected to them (a lesson that certain directors like Oliver Stone and Michael Moore could really stand to learn a little better). But a movie that eschews the message in favor of being straight entertainment does not, I feel, become a lesser film for doing so. And action is entertaining. A great film does not become diminished just because it doesn’t seek to change the world. But it would seem that the academy would disagree.
To admit the ultimately personal nature of entertainment would be to admit that comparing different movie genres and even, for that matter, comparing different movies in the same genre is essentially comparing apples to oranges to pears to plums and essentially throwing up one’s hands and just declaring every movie nominated for best picture, plus probably another dozen or more besides, are all essentially a best picture in their own way. But then, where’s the fun in that? More importantly, where’s the spectacle of having to narrow the choices down to one “best” (announced after sitting through four hours of ballyhoo)? Humans are competitive creatures. They like to see clear winners. But ultimately it’s an arbitrary set of criteria, no more valid than anyone else’s personal opinion. The sin is that it’s not admitted or presented that way, but rather as a near scientific process conducted by people who, allegedly know much more about the art than you do, and therefore their opinion is somehow more valid. Bullshit!
What I find even funnier is that, even in terms of raw criteria, the best picture award strikes me as one of the least significant of the entire oscar catalogue. Sort of like being selected as the MVP of the all star game. Yeah, it sounds impressive, but does it really mean anything? I mean, besides the institutional bias I’ve just gone over, what makes a movie best picture material? Is it the direction? Cause they already have an award for that. Acting? They already have awards for those too. Story? They already have screenplay awards (more than one in fact). By the time they finally get to awarding the best picture, the awards for everything that would determine which picture is best have already been bestowed. This, to me, makes the best picture award seem more like a bonus than anything else. Just tally up all the awards a film has already won, and then toss on one more for the hell of it. Wikipedia notes that the award for best direction seems to correlate heavily with best picture though there is the occasional X factor that makes it seem even more nebulous. Return of the King’s win was widely considered as more of an achievement award for the whole series. Titanic’s was essentially a people’s choice award. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s nom was another product of genre novelty (and since a genre is only novel once, will probably the last kung fu film we ever seen nominated for best pic). For that matter, so was Chicago’s win, though it might’ve been coupled with the academy’s realization that there was a time long ago when it wasn’t considered an embarrassment to award best pic to a musical. This isn’t to say that the best pic award winners aren’t good movies. They certainly are. It’s just that, by the time we get to the end of the awards show, based on all of the other awards the film has usually won by that time, it’s something that we already know.
I think it also bears mentioning that the categories, while awarded separately, are extremely interdependent. A good script can be undermined by poor acting. By contrast, good actors are often expected to elevate weak material (witness: Castaway). Good direction and be throttled by incompetent editing and good editing can dramatically improve weak direction (The Phantom Edit). The fact that the categories are presented and separate and distinct from each other is borderline disingenuous considering there are countless factors that must function invisibly for something like good acting or direction to be realized, most of which are only noticeable if they’re done poorly. But again, we love to categorize, and we love winners.
This brings me to the Heath. Yes, he’s going to win for best supporting, and he may even deserve it, I haven’t seen any of his competition, but while so much has been spoken of his sublime/transcendent/positively jokerrific performance, it should be noted that he had a lot of advantages. For one thing, he benefited from a strong script and a lot of face time. These are pretty obvious, of course, but I mention them anyway because you could technically make the case that the average Jason victim deserves an award for expertly and convincingly playing an oversexed, dumbass teenager. For another, he benefited from playing a highly distinct and extremely recognizable character. Any reasonably well played psychopath is going to leave an impression on the audience. Anthony Hopkins cleaned up playing Hannibal Lecter and Javier Bardem landed best supporting last year playing Anton Chigurh, and, shit, neither of those characters even wore face paint. Finally, the Joker character in particular is kinda tough to truly fuck up since it’s nigh impossible to overact while playing him, and virtually nothing he does could be considered too outrageous. The Joker is defined by his being completely over the top. This is the reason I would still consider Nicholson to be the better Joker. The Joker is menacing because ninety nine percent of the time he seems totally harmless. Then the other one percent he loses it, someone (often a lot of someones) dies hideously, and then he’s back to being harmless, giggling like a schoolgirl, surrounded by mangled corpses. Nicholson had that. The scene towards then end of Batman ’89 when he shot his right hand man out of frustration because batman stole his balloons perfectly encapsulated what the Joker is about. Contrast this with Ledger’s Joker who is always menacing. He certainly played a good psychopath (and as we’ve seen, that’s more than enough to win awards) but I don’t really think he played the Joker. More like he played Mr. Zsasz with a weirder than usual fashion sense. Now, granted, depending on the writer, the Joker of the comics does have a fluctuating level of outward menace, but all in all, in my opinion, Nicholson got closer to the source. But, again, this isn’t to diminish Ledger’s performance so much as to offer some perspective. If you’ll pardon the expression, the deck was stacked in his favor.
And, of course, he croaked, putting the ol’ Morrison/Vicious/Cobain exclamation point on things. Anyone who doesn’t think the sympathy vote will play a factor in his posthumous victory is fooling themselves. As I mentioned, it’s entirely possible he would’ve won without it; the fact that I’ve heard nothing about any of the other supporting actor noms makes me think so, but that it’s there totally seals the deal.
The fact that the Dark Knight got missed the nomination for best picture makes the nomination for Benjamin Button all the more confusing to me. I actually saw that one in the theater, and while the effects are really well done (and the film will likely win a few well deserved awards for them) outside of the whole aging backwards thing, the film is actually a pretty conventional love story where the characters meet, drift apart, come back together, and grow old. For those who haven’t seen it, you can pretty effectively simulate the viewing experience like this: pop Cocoon in your dvd player and watch it for about half an hour mentally replacing the faces on the old people with Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, then take it out and watch Forrest Gump. Alternatively, just pick up a thick romance novel where the characters are young in the beginning and old at the end, start at the back cover, page back two chapters, and read to the end. Then page back four chapters and read to where you first started. Continue this until you get to the beginning of the book. Again, it wasn’t a bad movie, but I really don’t see how it’s best picture material.
What’s my vote for best picture? The huge computer generated elephant in the room? Wall*E. Wall*E was brilliant. By turns hilarious, touching, and really really cool, switching tones naturally and effortlessly, and doing it all with very little dialogue. But, it doesn’t fit the academy’s criteria for what a best pic should look like, so it gets relegated to the kids table. I also think that the academy is positively horrified by the idea that an animated film could be so good, replacing real actors and sets with cels and pixels. Beauty and the Beast came within an rch of winning best pic in 91; ten years later, a new york minute by academy standards, there’s a best animated feature category. The academy has stated that an animated film can still be nominated for best pic, but that’s bullshit. If it were true, Wall*E would have been nominated.
So, I guess my conclusion is that the academy awards are, in many ways a sham. They attempt to objectively quantify things that are ultimately subjective, and they separately evaluate things that are, in many ways, irreducibly complex. Watch if you want, but don’t get too pissed if you feel a deserving film gets snubbed. Ultimately it’s a matter of opinion, and some of the opinions are not terribly well informed. For my part, I keep an eye on the Tauruses, the Annies (where Wall*E actually got thrashed by Kung Fu Panda), and, of course, the Razzies where the criteria are a little better defined and are a better representation of my own interests. The Oscars might have the budget and the TV spot, but they aren’t the only game in town.
In other movie related news, the Watchmen finally comes out in two weeks. I plan to be there opening night. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this excited to see a movie. All initial signs look pretty encouraging. I really hope they don’t screw it up.
I saw Coraline tonight. Fun flick. Had a beetlejuice-like creepyness to it that was really cool, if unsurprising, since it was based on a novella by Neil Gaiman. It was also really nice to see stop motion again, since it’s rarely used any more (with a very much appreciated, if subtle nod to King Kong). I only wish I’d seen it in 3D since it’s obvious it was primarily shot for that medium.
Wil played Halo for the first time on Thursday. He really seemed to like it, which was surprising, since he’d never been shy about bringing up how much he hated FPS’s in the past. We ended up playing with something close to a dozen people we all knew, including a slurring drunk Rob. Good times. Thursdays have just officially gotten more interesting.
I’ve been reading a lot about the ideomotor effect and temporal lobe epilepsy lately. Fascinating stuff.
Yeah, I know, tl;dr. But I’m happy with this post. I feel like I’ve finally returned to form.
So, what makes a good movie? In a nutshell, I’ve realized that how you answer that question determines what movies you will like. What does the Academy consider a good movie? Well, if the recent best picture winners are any indication, it generally has to be one of two things: taut, personal drama or, amusingly, the complete opposite: sweeping epic. If they have some basis in actual history, so much the better, the idea that real people have done things that merit heroic retelling definitely seems to resonate with the academy voting bloc. What doesn’t the academy consider worthy of best pic consideration? Pretty much everything else. Sure, every once in a while they have a “holy shit, other genre’s exist” moment, Shakespeare in Love was a comedy (about an actual historical personage, mind you) which inexplicably beat out Saving Private Ryan (historical epic), but for the most part the academy seems to stick to that with which it’s comfortable. There are no epics up for best pic this year, but there are three dramas based on real people/events. Slumdog Millionaire, which I would consider the frontrunner, is not one of them. Makes me wonder.
But getting back to the original question, the academy seems to favor drama. And what’s the opposite of drama? Action. What do genre movies need? Action. And lots of it. It’s what makes them genre movies. But the academy seems to view extended action set pieces as largely skippable when considering if a movie is “good”. Action, it would seem, does little to move the story forward. Yes, some action may be necessary, but if the action goes on for a second longer that is strictly necessary to push the story along, the academy seems to consider it wasted film. Does batman really need to take five minutes out of the runtime to beat the crap out of a gang of thugs? Will this have any effect on the final resolution? Does it do anything to help define the character? No? Not really? must be crap. Now, they do seem to be a little more lenient with the epics. It seems to be a question of runtimes and proportions. If you’re fielding a three hour movie, you can afford to put a few more minutes of action in. Furthermore, a lot of the epics deal with wars in which, it could be argued, action if vital to the story. But, essentially, unless you’ve got a cast of thousands and a budget of hundreds of millions, anything more than a few scattered snippets of action will make a film anathema to serious academy consideration.
The academy seems to like movies that “say something”. I also like movies that “say something”. I find that a well made movie can achieve a level of poignance far and away superior to more vulgar forms of message sending like, say, some asswipe’s blog post. But that’s not the only reason I may like a movie, and it’s not the only type of movie I like. It’s also not the only reason movies are made, and it’s definitely not the only reason movies are watched.
Many, I’d go so far as to say most, people watch movies, first and foremost, to be entertained. And what people find entertaining is largely a very personal preference. Yes, working a moral, or a message, or some biting social commentary into the mix can enhance or, failing that, at least not detract from the viewing experience, but those things are not an essential ingredient of a good film. In fact, a message done half assed or ineptly can actually do more net harm than good considering the corners that need to be cut and edges that need to be buffed to make complex issued even remotely comprehensible in the average film’s run time, to say nothing of the whitewashing or sugar coating required to make some of the more bitter elements palatable enough to make the average filmgoer part with ten bucks to be subjected to them (a lesson that certain directors like Oliver Stone and Michael Moore could really stand to learn a little better). But a movie that eschews the message in favor of being straight entertainment does not, I feel, become a lesser film for doing so. And action is entertaining. A great film does not become diminished just because it doesn’t seek to change the world. But it would seem that the academy would disagree.
To admit the ultimately personal nature of entertainment would be to admit that comparing different movie genres and even, for that matter, comparing different movies in the same genre is essentially comparing apples to oranges to pears to plums and essentially throwing up one’s hands and just declaring every movie nominated for best picture, plus probably another dozen or more besides, are all essentially a best picture in their own way. But then, where’s the fun in that? More importantly, where’s the spectacle of having to narrow the choices down to one “best” (announced after sitting through four hours of ballyhoo)? Humans are competitive creatures. They like to see clear winners. But ultimately it’s an arbitrary set of criteria, no more valid than anyone else’s personal opinion. The sin is that it’s not admitted or presented that way, but rather as a near scientific process conducted by people who, allegedly know much more about the art than you do, and therefore their opinion is somehow more valid. Bullshit!
What I find even funnier is that, even in terms of raw criteria, the best picture award strikes me as one of the least significant of the entire oscar catalogue. Sort of like being selected as the MVP of the all star game. Yeah, it sounds impressive, but does it really mean anything? I mean, besides the institutional bias I’ve just gone over, what makes a movie best picture material? Is it the direction? Cause they already have an award for that. Acting? They already have awards for those too. Story? They already have screenplay awards (more than one in fact). By the time they finally get to awarding the best picture, the awards for everything that would determine which picture is best have already been bestowed. This, to me, makes the best picture award seem more like a bonus than anything else. Just tally up all the awards a film has already won, and then toss on one more for the hell of it. Wikipedia notes that the award for best direction seems to correlate heavily with best picture though there is the occasional X factor that makes it seem even more nebulous. Return of the King’s win was widely considered as more of an achievement award for the whole series. Titanic’s was essentially a people’s choice award. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s nom was another product of genre novelty (and since a genre is only novel once, will probably the last kung fu film we ever seen nominated for best pic). For that matter, so was Chicago’s win, though it might’ve been coupled with the academy’s realization that there was a time long ago when it wasn’t considered an embarrassment to award best pic to a musical. This isn’t to say that the best pic award winners aren’t good movies. They certainly are. It’s just that, by the time we get to the end of the awards show, based on all of the other awards the film has usually won by that time, it’s something that we already know.
I think it also bears mentioning that the categories, while awarded separately, are extremely interdependent. A good script can be undermined by poor acting. By contrast, good actors are often expected to elevate weak material (witness: Castaway). Good direction and be throttled by incompetent editing and good editing can dramatically improve weak direction (The Phantom Edit). The fact that the categories are presented and separate and distinct from each other is borderline disingenuous considering there are countless factors that must function invisibly for something like good acting or direction to be realized, most of which are only noticeable if they’re done poorly. But again, we love to categorize, and we love winners.
This brings me to the Heath. Yes, he’s going to win for best supporting, and he may even deserve it, I haven’t seen any of his competition, but while so much has been spoken of his sublime/transcendent/positively jokerrific performance, it should be noted that he had a lot of advantages. For one thing, he benefited from a strong script and a lot of face time. These are pretty obvious, of course, but I mention them anyway because you could technically make the case that the average Jason victim deserves an award for expertly and convincingly playing an oversexed, dumbass teenager. For another, he benefited from playing a highly distinct and extremely recognizable character. Any reasonably well played psychopath is going to leave an impression on the audience. Anthony Hopkins cleaned up playing Hannibal Lecter and Javier Bardem landed best supporting last year playing Anton Chigurh, and, shit, neither of those characters even wore face paint. Finally, the Joker character in particular is kinda tough to truly fuck up since it’s nigh impossible to overact while playing him, and virtually nothing he does could be considered too outrageous. The Joker is defined by his being completely over the top. This is the reason I would still consider Nicholson to be the better Joker. The Joker is menacing because ninety nine percent of the time he seems totally harmless. Then the other one percent he loses it, someone (often a lot of someones) dies hideously, and then he’s back to being harmless, giggling like a schoolgirl, surrounded by mangled corpses. Nicholson had that. The scene towards then end of Batman ’89 when he shot his right hand man out of frustration because batman stole his balloons perfectly encapsulated what the Joker is about. Contrast this with Ledger’s Joker who is always menacing. He certainly played a good psychopath (and as we’ve seen, that’s more than enough to win awards) but I don’t really think he played the Joker. More like he played Mr. Zsasz with a weirder than usual fashion sense. Now, granted, depending on the writer, the Joker of the comics does have a fluctuating level of outward menace, but all in all, in my opinion, Nicholson got closer to the source. But, again, this isn’t to diminish Ledger’s performance so much as to offer some perspective. If you’ll pardon the expression, the deck was stacked in his favor.
And, of course, he croaked, putting the ol’ Morrison/Vicious/Cobain exclamation point on things. Anyone who doesn’t think the sympathy vote will play a factor in his posthumous victory is fooling themselves. As I mentioned, it’s entirely possible he would’ve won without it; the fact that I’ve heard nothing about any of the other supporting actor noms makes me think so, but that it’s there totally seals the deal.
The fact that the Dark Knight got missed the nomination for best picture makes the nomination for Benjamin Button all the more confusing to me. I actually saw that one in the theater, and while the effects are really well done (and the film will likely win a few well deserved awards for them) outside of the whole aging backwards thing, the film is actually a pretty conventional love story where the characters meet, drift apart, come back together, and grow old. For those who haven’t seen it, you can pretty effectively simulate the viewing experience like this: pop Cocoon in your dvd player and watch it for about half an hour mentally replacing the faces on the old people with Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, then take it out and watch Forrest Gump. Alternatively, just pick up a thick romance novel where the characters are young in the beginning and old at the end, start at the back cover, page back two chapters, and read to the end. Then page back four chapters and read to where you first started. Continue this until you get to the beginning of the book. Again, it wasn’t a bad movie, but I really don’t see how it’s best picture material.
What’s my vote for best picture? The huge computer generated elephant in the room? Wall*E. Wall*E was brilliant. By turns hilarious, touching, and really really cool, switching tones naturally and effortlessly, and doing it all with very little dialogue. But, it doesn’t fit the academy’s criteria for what a best pic should look like, so it gets relegated to the kids table. I also think that the academy is positively horrified by the idea that an animated film could be so good, replacing real actors and sets with cels and pixels. Beauty and the Beast came within an rch of winning best pic in 91; ten years later, a new york minute by academy standards, there’s a best animated feature category. The academy has stated that an animated film can still be nominated for best pic, but that’s bullshit. If it were true, Wall*E would have been nominated.
So, I guess my conclusion is that the academy awards are, in many ways a sham. They attempt to objectively quantify things that are ultimately subjective, and they separately evaluate things that are, in many ways, irreducibly complex. Watch if you want, but don’t get too pissed if you feel a deserving film gets snubbed. Ultimately it’s a matter of opinion, and some of the opinions are not terribly well informed. For my part, I keep an eye on the Tauruses, the Annies (where Wall*E actually got thrashed by Kung Fu Panda), and, of course, the Razzies where the criteria are a little better defined and are a better representation of my own interests. The Oscars might have the budget and the TV spot, but they aren’t the only game in town.
In other movie related news, the Watchmen finally comes out in two weeks. I plan to be there opening night. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this excited to see a movie. All initial signs look pretty encouraging. I really hope they don’t screw it up.
I saw Coraline tonight. Fun flick. Had a beetlejuice-like creepyness to it that was really cool, if unsurprising, since it was based on a novella by Neil Gaiman. It was also really nice to see stop motion again, since it’s rarely used any more (with a very much appreciated, if subtle nod to King Kong). I only wish I’d seen it in 3D since it’s obvious it was primarily shot for that medium.
Wil played Halo for the first time on Thursday. He really seemed to like it, which was surprising, since he’d never been shy about bringing up how much he hated FPS’s in the past. We ended up playing with something close to a dozen people we all knew, including a slurring drunk Rob. Good times. Thursdays have just officially gotten more interesting.
I’ve been reading a lot about the ideomotor effect and temporal lobe epilepsy lately. Fascinating stuff.
Yeah, I know, tl;dr. But I’m happy with this post. I feel like I’ve finally returned to form.