The FilmNerds Blog

Spoilers ahead for Superman Returns.

The lost opening sequence of Bryan Singer’s Superman Returns has hit the internet.

The scene is a silent, Kubrickian sequence that follows Superman as he looks for his past on the dead planet Krypton, with imagery that reminds one of another controversial 2006 release, Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain. The imagery also might remind one of something else entirely, as it only goes to prove the visual motif of “fertility” that seems to -ahem- penetrate the film.

Yes, this post might make you a bit uncomfortable.

In Singer’s lyrical Superman movie (written by Michael Dougherty and Dan Harris), Lex Luthor seeks the Kryptonian crystals that Christopher Reeve’s Kal-El used to build the Fortress of Solitude in Richard Donner’s 1978 film. After he successfully steals the crystals from a kind of growing “crystal shrub” (revealed in the new scene) that ascends from the fortress, he hollows out a peice of kryptonite, inserts the crystal, and using a cannon, shoots it in into a fissure along the bottom of the ocean, giving birth to an island, an undesirable New Krypton.

You have no idea how difficult it was to describe that sequence gracefully.

I really shouldn’t have to argue my point much more, as this sequence is cross-cut with the revelation that in a secret evening together, presumably during the events of Superman II, Superman impregnated Lois Lane. We find out in the climax of Superman Returns that she has fathered his accidental son, and Superman realizes his quest for others like himself is irrelevant. His legacy is not in the past glories of the House of El, but here on Earth, with his son.

Fertility. A new Krypton borne from remnants of a dead world, or a new Krypton borne from a union with Earth. I think it’s clear to non-Superman fanboys that this is obvious subtext, given the phallic imagery and character motivations. I’m sure my fellow Film Nerds will accuse me of bizarre fixation, but again, I think I could just nod to the material and ask them if the proof isn’t right there, pointed directly at their contorted faces.

I think the fact that Singer & Company worked so hard to have these kinds of subtextual connections run through a Superman movie is a brave and honorable goal. All that aside, however, the main question from comic book fans that dislike Superman Returns is probably this: “Okay, the the art is loaded and intentional, but it’s still not Superman.”

That’s a point that I will need to concede. It’s true. The Superman that I am a fan of does regularly not feel alienated or alone. The best iteration of Clark Kent was raised by simple and honest parents who aim for the human ideal, rather than expect an alien dog-and-pony show. That’s what Singer seems to believe humanity expects of Superman, and I do think that’s a bad reading. At its core, Superman Returns is not a Superman movie that is true to the characters roots outside of the 1978 film. On paper, it might work as an “Elseworlds” interpretation. It does not evoke the Fleischer shorts or the George Reeve show or the Kyrk Allen serials. It does not evoke the brawny Socialist bully of Siegel & Schuster, or the good-natured big brother of Swan & Schwartz. It does, however, take an American icon to weird and interesting places, and does not settle to be yet another brainless, flashy blockbuster. For the record, I think this deleted scene should have stayed in the film. It sets the tone for the thoughtful, languidly paced drama that follows, and would have really earned the explosive opening title sequence. Perhaps the film will be re-cut in the next few decades, giving us the ultimate version of the film on blu ray.

Whatever the case, give Superman Returns some credit… just don’t let it go to a frat party with your daughter.

Here’s a lesson: Most movies aren’t very fun to watch when you’re producing and directing an ultra low-budget independent movie. Neuroses abound. Seeing good decision invites inferiority. Seeing a bad decision ignites anxiety. One gravitates more towards cartoons, “Star Tre”k”, and sports- in my case, the faker, the better. It’s only been in the last few months that I’ve been able to throw myself fully into cinematic experiences, and this return to full-on film fandom has taught me something about myself and the way I watch movies.

I’m starting to understand the function of exploitation film.

This increased understanding is more of an increased awareness, insomuch as that I’ve become aware of the broad definition of “exploitation”. I’ve come to define an exploitative film as any movie that accepts certain points of low quality to amplify certain points of high quality, resulting in a movie experience that averages out to being of high quality.

The traditional example would be a movie that sacrifices believable performances and set design for a story that stimulates niche cultural interests, like violence or sex. In short, serving sub-cultures by overlooking points of quality. Now, if the internet hasdone anything, it has further fractured our global population into non-nationalist sub-cultures. There is content designed to entertain any niche interest, often at the cost of specific quality.

So, how does this apply to me and my tastes? Well, I’ve often derided movies popularly defined as “exploitation” cinema, and I suppose I still do. Hobo With a Shotgun does not appeal to me. However, Transformers: Dark of the Moon does, and I would argue that it is as much an exploitation movie.

The realization hit me while I was discovering the Jackie Chan classic Supercop. I realized that I was overlooking important elements of the film to instead focus on its excellent action scenes. Supercop contains several bad, hokey performances, with as many failed attempts at humor. Granted, much of these decisions are clearly intentional, and a big part of why the film is highly regarded. Mostly, though, Supercop is the amazing movie it is because of how its action scenes escalate, from a safe, toothless training fight to an amazing, stunt-laden fight that travels from a helicopter, through the air, to a moving train.

Supercop is a fantastic movie, a movie I might consider giving an A+. Now, I try to be honest with myself, and fair with the films I give a grade to. I don’t believe in the term “guilty pleasure”. Movies were created as a cheap parlor trick, closer in ancestry to pro wrestling than the novel. If you enjoy a movie, there’s probably a good reason, dictated by an astute filmmaker’s guiding hand.

All this said, every one of us is a victim of exploitation at one point or another. If you like baseball movies, there are elements that make a good baseball movie that go beyond generic standards of film quality.  The same goes for romantic comedies, or live-action Saturday morning cartoons, like Transformers 3 or Thor. Fans of Christopher Nolan movies give up a certain female perspective to align themselves with overwhelmingly masculine protagonists. Fans of the Coen Brothers and Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino give up a certain amount of moral empathy when they follow dark and dumb characters down sleazy rabbit trails. Fans of Hollywood classics give up a realist’s approach and embrace soundstages and utilitarian framing. Yes, many of the qualities that are given up are not qualitative at all, but you see my point- there is an exchange going on.

We’ve all heard of “blacksploitation” or “hicksploitation”. Let’s make funny words out of other types of exploitation, now that we’ve broadened our reach:

Tearsploitation – Emotionally charged-movies that appeal to our most raw feelings. The movies of Paul Thomas Anderson or Sam Mendes might count here, as well as the melodramas of classic Hollywood.

Christsploitation – The politically correct term here is “faith-based”. Movies that are marketed towards the Christian mainstream rarely go for quality first, making sure that their message is front and center. I might quote Marshall McLuhen here: “The medium is the message.”

Politisploitation – The movies of Ken Loach and Mike Nichols and John Sayles are, as subtly as possible, pointing towards a certain political ideal. Their crusade is as strong as the Faith-Basters, but admittedly, quality of performance and tone is often job one here.

Minutiaesploitation – The most fun to say. Movies in this category give up pace, plot, and in some cases, performance, to get at the deeper truths in the smallest human experiences. Examples might include neo-realist works like Vagabond, Man Push Cart, and Old Joy.

Dialogsploitation – I’ll admit, this is one of my weaknesses. I might overlook quite a number of plot problems just to hear Mamet or Coen dialogue.

Yousploitation – Finally, the catch-all. Everyone has interests, and we overlook overall quality if those interests are served. Again, are you a sports fan? A DC comics fan, or a Marvel? Like car chases, or indie rock? There are movies that contain these elements that you’re willing to grade on a curve.

Be honest with yourself. Call it niche marketing, call it exploitation, call it what you want. Whatever the case, our tastes are not balanced, as much as the AFI list or Sight & Sound might expect them to be. In fact, if your movie tastes line up perfectly with the AFI list, you’re clearly easily exploited by cinephelia. Gotcha!

In conclusion, you’re not immune to exploitation, but know thyself. Admit you have quirks and hang-ups. Embrace them. Enjoy the movies tailor-made for you, as well as the objective classics. Down with the shame of “guilty pleasure”!

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Cheap post-script plug: There’s no shame in looking forward to the non-exploitative Nocturnal Third, which will hopefully get a premiere date soon! Check the official site and our Twitter feed every fourteen seconds for updates!

Spoiler Notice: This post does not contain any spoilers beyond what you might see in any trailer for either film.

Are The Tree of Life and Transformers: Dark of the Moon the same movie?

No, they’re not.

 

That said, in addition to being two of the most talked-about and contentious movies of the summer, I honestly do believe that the newest movies from auteurs Terrence Malick and Michael Bay share a startling amount of ideas, themes, and trajectories. Note that, yes, I used the word “auteur” for the oft-maligned Bay, director of such cinematic monstrosities as Armageddon, Pearl Harbor, and Bad Boys 2 (like you need me to tell you). The fact that so many of us can agree that a filmmaker’s intentions are mangled and impure, but can agree that the same filmmaker has a singular signature style is a sure sign of the fallibility in the movie nerd’s worship of the Cahier du cinema “auteur theory”. Pure or impure, Michael Bay is saying something with his film grammar, his decisions, the scripts he chooses to shoot, and his editing; after all, he’s one of the few studio filmmakers that have “final cut” sovereignty over his movies.

So, I don’t think this is a ludicrous conversation to have- to compare and contrast arguably the most singular works from two singular auteurs. After reading a fantastic article from Daniel Kasman at MUBI, I was struck by the unifying theme between these two movies: Macrocosmic scale presented on par with microcosmic struggle, the universal in the specific. Malick’s The Tree of Life looks at the creation of the universe as a child’s buried memory, holding the same dramatic weight as a recollected pair of bored brothers making faces through a smudged window. Bay’s Transformers: Dark of the Moon aligns a frustrated post-college job hunt with the conquest of Earth by a malevolent alien race. Admittedly, Malick handles his chosen dichotomy with more fragility and specific grammar, using editing as his main juxtaposition tool. Bay, however, literally frames these moments in similar ways, utilizing loaded low-angle shots, wide lenses, and harshly contrasting colors.

 

Let’s zoom into each movie’s narrative “canvases”. Malick’s film sees three main perspectives: The Remembering, the ruminations of the adult Jack (Sean Penn); The Personal Memory, Jack’s childhood (the incredible Hunter McCracken), and the Deep Memory, the childhood of planet Earth. Bay’s perspectives are two-fold: The social and professional challenges of unlikely and often unpopular hero Sam Witwicky, and the interplanetary war between Optimus Prime’s Autobots and Megatron’s Decepticons. Some criticisms have been leveled against Malick for not connecting his three canvases directly enough. In fact, many of the connections within Tree of Life – as well as the connections between it and Dark of the Moon – are spiritual, and even ethereal. The contrast of macro- and microcosms in Dark of the Moon are much more directly presented, as they eventually overlap, with Sam attempting to overcome his personal shortcomings by asserting his place in the Autobots’ battle against their enemies. A difference in the two movies’ theorems is this: The Tree of Life does not seem to make a qualitative statement, whereas Dark of the Moon does. In Michael Bay’s movie, as noted in the Kasman article, the message is clear: Your problems with disrespect, lack of material possessions, and emasculation are of equal importance to our problem with the conquest of the planet. Malick’s film does not seem to attempt any statement of importance, rather choosing to present a seemingly disparate set of events, woven together by one character’s memory and a cinematographic dream tapestry.

This leads us to the stunning technical achievements in both films. I challenge you to point out a more gorgeous, and yet contrasting, set of images than what you might find in a random reel compiled from these movies. Malick and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki wallow in the beauty of naturalism: soft, white sunlight provides most of the source light in The Tree of Life. Bay’s lighting is much more overtly expressive, coming from a range of possibly non-diagetic sources, but communicating a sense of scale and grandeur typically reserved for Meat Loaf album covers. I’m not trying to be reductive there- Michael Bay, as hard as it is to admit, has a fantastic eye for pop imagery, when his editor’s  trigger finger allows him to linger. With this film, his editing style does breathe. The same goes for Terrence Malick, the king of the justified jump cut. Both directors heavily rely on sound, music and framing to evade traditional editing techniques steeped in rules like cutting on action or 30° shot-reverse shot cuts. In Malick’s film, atmosphere and narration combine to give these disparate images a dream-like quality, whereas Bay’s usage of pulsing, external  sound effects remind one of a movie trailer, which – to be honest – accurately reflects the perspectives of these characters. From the beginning of each of these films, we are firmly planted in their respective narrative universes. Malick opens his film with a spiritual question, and quickly takes us into an ethereal memory. Bay opens Dark of the Moon with bombast and revisionist history, setting the tone for the pure fiction we are in store for. I suppose that is another difference between the two films: Malick seems to be on a quest to present us with a commonly ignored truth he believes us all to inherently share. In Bay’s movie, there is no truth except for what you see. Reality ends before the Paramount logo comes up, and does not return until this story ends. Introspection is pitted against attention; in a way, very similar to how Jack’s struggle contrasts Sam’s struggle.

One final thought on the link between these two movies. There is a marked sense of America being a fulcrum point in both works and, more disturbingly, there also seem to be shared apocalyptic echoes. It’s hard to ascertain the direct narrative consequences of Tree of Life‘s ending, but I think it could be said that the movie takes us from Earth’s beginning to its end, with 1950′s America – at its powerful apex – at the core of the story. Transformers: Dark of the Moon starts with the genesis of modern America, after the Fall: the 60′s. Both films rely on the Space Race as a sort of reference point, and again, their apocalyptic nature is hard to ignore. Dark of the Moon seems to make a direct and sad nod to the end of the NASA shuttle program. The Tree of Life seems to amplify a selfless, idyllic way of life that that gets forgotten amidst the professional willpower that has been so closely linked to our nation’s spirit, whereas Dark of the Moon asksus to grasp and employ that same spirit. 

In Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life, we must choose between grace and nature. Either we appreciate what we’ve been given or we take what we lack. Above all, we’re destined to ask God questions about both. In Michael Bay’s Transformers: Dark of the Moon, we live in spite of the invasive gods’ wars. We are entitled to a life of saturation and indulgence. Here, the hierarchy of power is reversed, as we’re destined to have our dreams sanctified and served to us by the gods.

FYI- I also recently posted a Film Nerd-ish entry updating folks on The Nocturnal Third over at our production blog.

This summer movie season seems to recall a conversation that is one of the cornerstones of Film Nerds.

Before this weekend’s Transformathon, the most talked-about film of the season has been JJ Abrams’ Super 8. The most well-regarded films have been Tree of Life and Midnight in Paris. The latter of these addresses an idea that I feel is the season’s unifying theme. Woody Allen’s latest follows a struggling writer as he escapes to his own idea of bohemia’s Golden Age, the Paris of the 1920’s.

Super 8 also points to a kind of Golden Age for my generation. The movie is a throw-back to the suburbia of The Goonies and E.T., where pre-adolescence is a heightened life of irresponsibility, mystery, and early brushes with a chosen sub-culture. However, much of the chatter around the film has centered less on the film’s setting and more its marketing, which points heavily to the directorial Golden Age of producer Steven Spielberg.

Also, it would seem to me that the last of the summer’s superhero movies, Captain America: The First Avenger, takes a romantic look at World War II adventure- its hero literally born in the “Golden Age” of comic books. In addition – and again, having not seen it – Tree of Life seems to point to an idyllic memory of America’s past.

You see my point. So far, the idea of a “Golden Age” seems to be this year’s thematic through-line when it comes to mainstream film, as last year’s films seemed to be focused on an acceptance of realities (Inception, Social Network, Black Swan, True Grit).

Let’s go back to the specific idea that’s exemplified in Midnight in Paris, though. Allen’s hero gets to witness the peak creative years of a movement or group of people. When weighing that against this summer’s mainstream movie creators, I think less of Spielberg’s Golden Age and more of the authors of Cars 2.

I won’t bury the lead- I think that Pixar has closed the books on its first era of greatness. It would seem that the company has two overall eras of feature film-making up to this point. Their “Independent” era stretches from Toy Story to The Incredibles, before they were purchased by Disney. The “Disney/Pixar” era would start with 2006’s Cars, and appears to close with this year’s sequel to that movie and a changing of direction.

Looking forward, much of Pixar’s original guard is dabbling in other arenas. Finding Nemo and Wall-E auteur Andrew Stanton is directing the long-gestating adaptation of A Princess of Mars. Incredibles and Ratatouille director Brad Bird just saw a trailer released for his live-action debut, Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol. Pete Doctor doesn’t seem to be visibly working on anything for Pixar. John Lasseter tagged in to helm Cars 2, but at this point, his duties as an executive at Disney probably keep him fairly busy.

Lee Unkrich seems to be the leader of the new guard, taking over directorial duties for Lasseter on Toy Story 3 and doing quite a bang-up job. Next year sees further proof of the next phase of Pixar, as the company is releasing the uncharacteristic Brave, which looks to introduce a beautiful new direction. I trust Pixar completely, but Cars 2 does sit as a kind of demarcation point for me, as I’ve resolved to skip the movie in its theatrical run. That’s the first time I’ve done so since Monsters, Inc., which is a mistake I still regret. I can only hope that the next few years are full of exciting and unique stories from a brand new slate of Emeryville storytellers. While I do expect a certain brand of “special” from Pixar, I certainly don’t expect them to bottle the feeling of Wall-E, Toy Story, and Up and try to sell it to me again and again.

That returns us to Spielberg. The release of the trailers for The Adventures of Tintin and War Horse, as well as Super 8’s continued theatrical run, has kept the Great Film Nerd War raging about Spielberg’s own Golden Age. Let me remind you- I count myself as our troupe’s biggest fan of the director of my favorite movie of all time. The guy needs no defending, but I need to be honest when I say I believe Spielberg to be the greatest director of all time. I say that not to qualify myself, but to warn of extreme prejudice in this dialog.

In finding the proper Spielberg eras, you can break it all down in a few different ways.

You could use decades: 70’s Spielberg (from Duel to 1941), 80’s Spielberg (from Raiders of the Lost Ark to Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade), 90’s Spielberg (Hook to Saving Private Ryan), and 00’s Spielberg (A.I. to Indiana Jones & The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull). That would allow us a clean break that begins with The Adventures of Tintin.

For me, I would break Spielberg’s filmography into two overall eras, after his establishment in Hollywood with The Sugarland Express: The Amblin Era, from Jaws to Jurassic Park, and the Dreamworks Era, from Amistad to Munich. There’s a marked difference in Spielberg’s approach once he won an Oscar, locked onto Janusz Kaminski, and became the revered, old King of Hollywood.

Despite these arbitrary boundaries, it is certainly a unanimous opinion, however, that Spielberg’s Golden Age lies within that Amblin Era, stretching across two decades from 1975 to 1982: Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, 1941, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and E.T. These five films are most likely what people refer to when they say “classic Spielberg”. Sure, one of these films is not like the other, but you cannot argue the visual bombast going on in that particular World War II sex comedy you’re squinting at.

Keep in mind those are only really four films. So, out of a four decade career and over twenty movies, a Golden Age can be created, the same as Pixar’s Golden Age is represented by a strong four years. That is, if we agree Pixar has only had one so far… or isn’t just now exiting one giant streak of magnificence. Really, this kind of perspective that can only come with time and distance. The end of a Golden Age, however, must come. Eras of prosperity and vibrancy must end for growth to happen.

Look at Pixar’s rich uncle, Walt Disney Animation. How many eras of brilliance has Disney had? I can count at least three: The dawn of feature animation, from Snow White to Bambi, the post-war hot streak, from Cinderella to The Jungle Book, and the renaissance, from The Little Mermaid to The Lion King. How about Woody Allen, the prolific workaholic that started this conversation?

That should give one hope. Perhaps your favorite writer, director, or musician is just one new creation away from beginning a new personal Golden Age. After this year, Spielberg will have a three-film streak of films aimed at children, before returning with the assumedly Oscar-chasing Lincoln, followed by perhaps the serious sci-fi of Interstellar or Robopocalypse (yes, “serious”). The man has proven himself adept at a variety of fare, and I hope that he achieves a late-career Golden Age like his friend Martin Scorsese.

Regardless, don’t get too caught up in worrying if your favorite has lost the golden touch. That rarely happens. Yes, Pixar is changing, but don’t lament that fact. As great as that 2007 to 2010 streak was for Pixar, we do not want them to attempt to manufacture what made Wall-E, Up, or Ratatouille so incredible. The proclivity to green-light sequels to Toy Story, Cars, and Monsters Inc. seems frightening, and is proof that we don’t want these men and women to look back, but rather forward. Haters of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull should beware what happens when a filmmaker forcibly attempts to recapture magic.

We should not ask for Golden Ages to be artificially extended. It doesn’t work in overall culture, it doesn’t work in family, and it won’t work in film-making. Enjoy the valleys as well as the peaks, because in the midst of a perceived dry period, you might just find yourself a Minority Report or a Munich or a Tarzan or a No Country for Old Men. And, with that, I may have talked myself into seeing Cars 2.

 

A blog post about the Pirates of the Caribbean movies? Man, I just keep digging myself deeper and deeper into this populist hole.

Avast, to the isle of Tortuga!

At this point, the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean film has made over $620 million worldwide. Its success makes the decision to green-light a fifth film a no-brainer for Disney and producer Jerry Bruckheimer, but I – along with most of the internet film nerd community – think there is reason to pause and re-consider an immediate course of action.

The dirt sheets are reporting that Johnny Depp isn’t sure he wants to come back for another turn as the series’ fulcrum point, Jack Sparrow. In addition, initial director Gore Verbinski has no interest in returning, and it’s questionable whether or not On Stranger Tides director Rob Marshall will be back. Reportedly, one of the series’ writers, Ted Elliot, has broken off a long-standing partnership with Terry Rossio and opted out of a fifth film, as well. Finally, the fourth film’s critical reception has been the lowest of all the (admittedly ill-received) sequels, with a 33% Rotten Tomatoes score.

So, we have the film nerds turning down a fifth helping, along with the lead actor, one of the writers, and a creative direction that is unclear and shaky. And yet, the newest film has a 65% user score on Rotten Tomatoes (granted, that’s barely passing), and again, has made over $620 million worldwide in just 12 days. Is it a bad business decision to overlook a lack of direction and meaningful interest for a potential cash-in on a popular brand? Yes, it absolutely is. The studio has a responsibility to itself to grow its brand, right?

Actually, no. I would argue that the ever-speedy downfall of Hollywood studios has been a blind determination to grow, despite most practical business sense pointing to the idea of diversification. Disney practices diversification across all of its interests, but doesn’t apply the idea to its stories, for some reason. The mistake the studio and the creative team behind this franchise have made is putting all of the stock of the Pirates of the Caribbean idea into the character of Jack Sparrow. There is no better evidence of this than this latest movie. My wife and I watched it this past weekend, and it is not the atrocious manifesto of Hollywood excess many critics have made it out to be. It is, however, a very boring and visually flat movie lacking a tangible emotional core. Say what you will about the first three movies – and maybe I’m alone in this – but by the end of At World’s End, I was invested in seeing Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley end up together. In On Stranger Tides, there is a muddy and confusing love story between characters played by Johnny Depp and Penelope Cruz that has the strangest, most unsettling conclusion of any love story I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it’s almost brilliant in its emotional chaos.

Regardless, with this Sparrow-centric and visually dead entry, Bruckheimer and Disney have completely forsaken what makes this franchise special: the world. Think back to the them park ride the first film was based on… Did you go on that ride a thousand times for one character? For the thrills? For the laughs? No, you went because it was the best, most immersing anima-tronic ride at DisneyWorld (or the original at DisneyLand, depending on your geography). What is so satisfying about the original trilogy? The world that Gore Verbinski created is alive. Yes, the scripts are overloaded, the motivations are hard to follow, the formula is cynically transparent. However, in addition to delivering memorable characterizations, Verbinski crafted a fantasy landscape that is amazingly real and textural. In one film, he LITERALLY has characters emerging from the production design, and you believe it immediately because of the sun-burnt and corroded veneer that is smeared all over everything you see.

To be honest, that’s what brought me back to the theaters for the third movie. I had a lot of problems with the annoying onslaught of sequel cliches and character quips in Dead Man’s Chest, but in the interest of full transparency, going to a Pirates movie during the summer is the next-best thing to going to the beach itself. The atmosphere and the whimsical, anachronistic tone of these things is like candy. I found the third film to be really satisfying as a conclusion to a high-stakes love story, and as a further expansion of the series’ world. I just want to spend more time in this era, in this place, with these rules, but On Stranger Tides flat-out failed at giving that to me. If further entries can’t perpetuate the world, the whole thing isn’t worth it. So, let me re-state one simple statement:

Jack Sparrow is a supporting character.

For this franchise to be useful, interesting, or profitable in a long-term sense, Disney/Bruckheimer have to diversify. They cannot just react and feed specific fan appetite, because Jack Sparrow is tethered to Johnny Depp, and Depp should have the freedom to roam. Seriously, we may have lost of one of the best actors of his generation to the cynical workings of the Hollywood system. Let the guy experiment without Disney or Tim Burton spurring it on.

Disney should take hints from their biggest recent acquisition, Marvel. In their films and in their comics, Marvel tries hard to let the universe be king, rather than individual personalities. This allows stories to grow organically out of circumstance and contrast rather than marketing tactics or “screen” time. The Marvel Studio’s biggest cinematic misstep so far has been an over-reliance on star power in Iron Man 2. I am not against the star system, but in the game of expanded story universes, individuals must bow to a greater sense of place.

To be clear, nowhere in this post have I mentioned that I want this series to die. I just want it to survive healthily, instead of by artificial hype and repetition. So, here’s what would I like to see from the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, and what I think is necessary for the brand to stay alive beyond eventual fan fatigue:

1. Kick Out Jack Sparrow.

Again, Depp’s creation is a fun supporting character, but he’s become the false lead in this series. The “franchise lead hand-off” is a blockbuster maneuver that I can’t recall ever working, but it is something that seems to be happening to Jeremy Renner for both the Bourne series and the Mission:Impossible series. It’s a bold and painful move to separate a franchise from its MVP, but in a case like this, where the world of the story is so rich, I think it must be done.

2. An Expanded Universe.

Disney currently has at least two comics outlets: BOOM! and Marvel. A comic book series, like Dark Horse’s Star Wars comics, that explores ancillary characters and locations in the world of Pirates of the Caribbean would be fantastic, and a natural way to experiment and find new and interesting stories and creations. To be fair, On Stranger Tides does try to introduce a new direction in the form of a martyred missionary character, but the bored script and a dodgy performance just sink the attempt. A direction for a new feature should happen organically, grown out of fan interest in elements of the mythos presented in novels, video games, comics, and an animated series.

3. A Handbook.

Despite my appreciation for Curse of the Black Pearl and At World’s End, they’re plenty messy. In this world, a pirate seems to be a genetic malady. If an expanded universe does get created, things need to become clearer and stay that way. Disney: Pay Verbinski, Bruckheimer, Rossio, and Elliot a couple bucks to spend some time to make a “bible” for these stories. Rules, geography, and physical limitations are essential.

4. Some Respect.

On the great movie podcast All Movie Talk, co-host Stephen Keller once lamented that if only the American public had been more intelligent in 2003, we would have a Master & Commander trilogy rather than a Pirates trilogy. I agree with this to a certain degree, but I do appreciate the fantasy elements of these movies. That said, for my tastes, there could be more direct nods to the great swashbucklers in cinema history. Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, and even Hook are adventures worthy of borrowing from and paying homage to.

 

5. Escape The Formula.

This latest film has only gone to show that the series has worked itself into a structural rut. It’s always a tricky balancing act to observe tradition and to fight formula in movie series. The case here is = [(Johnny Depp + Dueling Villians + Tragic Love Story + Sailor Mythology) Over Two Hours]. None of these, outside of the sailor mythology, are what make these movies special.  Color outside the lines, guys.

6. Thriftiness.

Here’s the big one. Disney/Bruckheimer are going to make fat bank off of another Pirates movie, so they’re logically going to spend another $200 million to make it. What if Depp isn’t on board, though? Will fans still come out to see it? It’s a sloppy catch-22, and should have been avoided by this point. If they’re serious about maintaining the Pirates brand, after testing the waters a bit with comics and games and animated series, the suits would be smart to show some thrift. Get a lean, mean script with interesting characters and a sharp dynamic, and shoot it for $60 million, with fantastic actors looking for a break. More studios could learn from District 9 and Hellboy, both of which created vivid, imaginative worlds for way less than $100 million. I should add that this is just a wiser practice in general. If Hollywood filmmakers could actually budget their mind-blowing allowances, there would be a lot more room to experiment and to make interesting movies, both of which – in the long term – make money.

But there’s the problem, right? Studios like Disney and Bruckheimer and the rest need a fast turnaround to satiate investors watching quarterly profits. So, a lean, mean Pirates picture might not pay off with $600 million worldwide in 12 days. However, it may very well make $300 million over a few months, build word-of-mouth, make for a successful home video release, build interest in other stories within the brand, promote new characters in the world of the story, and ultimately pay off with a sequel that makes over $1 billion. If this seems like a sure thing, that’s because it’s EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED with the first and second films in the series. However, that kind of strategy takes more patience, more discipline, more risk, and more trial-and-error than bloated Hollywood studios can afford… or more than they think they can afford, at least.

Regardless, I wish the best for the franchise, despite feeling like one of the few internet movie geeks that actually enjoys these movies. I feel they’ve yet to reach their full potential, which is quite obviously within grasp. There really are some great adventure stories to be told in the world of Pirates of the Caribbean. But alas, until Jerry gets my fruit basket and starts returning my text messages, I’ll just have to settle for listening to Hans Zimmer’s amazing At World’s End score on loop while watching Corona commercials on YouTube.

 

Inspired somewhat by this list from Den of Geek, I’ve been ruminating the specific sub-genre of “Pure Action”. Action cinema comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, most often these days in the form of science fiction. Now, I’m as big of a sci-fi nut as the next nerd, but there’s something to be said for the roots of action movies: stunt-laden, high octane movies featuring shoot-outs, fist-fights, car chases, and really, really, really unreasonable amounts of explosions.

 

So, what is a “pure” action film?

Rules:

• Minimal Obvious Computer Enhancement. It’s rare to impossible to find a film made in the last fifteen years that hasn’t benefited some what from computer compositing or imaging, but I think my meaning is clear here.
• A Minimum of Three Action Scenes. Any good thriller has at least one scene of pace and suspense, so a relentless onslaught of activity has to be a qualifier for “action”.
• A Modern Setting, Relative to Time of Production. This excludes sword-and-sandal epics, Westerns, and samurai movies. So, no Buster Keaton’s The General, no Seven Samurai, no Stagecoach.
• No Overtly Supernatural, Science Fiction, or Fantasy Elements. In addition, excluded are some of the big guns: Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Lord of the Rings, King Kong, The Matrix. This is getting trickier.
• No Sports Movies or War Movies. A pure action movie has to rest on chaos, and in addition to the fact that most war movies are also period pieces, there’s just a difference between organized combat and consequential combat.

So, with the rules set, here are 45 of my favorite pure action movies. Now, this list was compiled as much to find my own weak spots as it was to reminisce about all those pretty explosions.

You’ll find a dire lack of the following sub-genres, many of which are the ancestor of the modern action movie, all born in the 70’s:

I’ve not seen an awful many exploitation or grindhouse movies like Shaft, Walking Tall, or Death Wish. The same goes for the martial arts sub-genre, which shows off some of the most fantastic stunts in action cinema history. (Example: Rumble in the Bronx, Supercop). I’m also light on 70’s car movies like Two Lane Blacktop and The Driver, although there are a few glaring entries in there. This might be a good time to mention to any of my fellow Film Nerds that I’d love to record a series on any of these sub-genres to help pad my viewing resume a bit. (Ahem, after the premiere of The Nocturnal Third, of course.)

Some other big weaknesses are the early filmography of Tony Scott and the Jack Ryan series, both of which contain movies I saw numerous times in my youth, but come up hazy in my memory.

Let me know what I left out, what I should see, and where I’m just plain wrong!

So, without further ado, and in chronological order:

 

North by Northwest (Alfred Hitchcock, 1959)
The granddaddy of them all. Combining a fantastic score, relentless pace, and tropes that would leak their way into every action movie you’ve ever seen, this descendant of Hitchcock’s original Thirty Nine Steps has everything. I’ve been meaning to pick up that much-lauded blu ray. Not my favorite Hitchcock movie, but I can’t deny its importance.

Goldfinger (Guy Hamilton, 1964)
I purposely left out numerous Bond films, but this is one that absolutely had to be included. Goldfinger took what we saw in North by Northwest and the early Bond films and turned up the testosterone, peril, and fantasy.

Thunderball (Terence Young, 1965)
Again, a textbook example of the escapist thrills of the middle years of Connery’s Bond.

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (Peter Hunt, 1969)
…And here we go, as the Bond franchise changes things all around for at least the second time in its franchise history. Utilizing a frenetic, New Wave editing style, Peter Hunt gives George Lazenby’s sole Bond film a choppy style reminiscent of Arthur Penn or, dare I say, Godard himself. Hate shakey cam? Blame Lazenby’s 007 film. I, for one, love this movie, and find it to be among the most entertaining and exciting Bonds.

 

Duel (Steven Spielberg, 1971)
Spielberg’s entry into the carsploitation sub-genre is teetering on being more of a thriller than an action movie, but its exciting chase sequences and scenes of destruction make it apt.

The Spy Who Loved Me (Lewis Gilbert, 1977)
Probably the best example of the “classy” Roger Moore 007 movies, this features one of the series’ more recognizable stunts (Union Jack parachute) and cars (Lotus Esprit). This entry is kind of a catch-all for the 70’s Bond films that were being influenced by the quickly evolving action genre.

 

First Blood (Ted Ketchoff, 1982)
You won’t see any other Rambo films on my list, not because they don’t follow the rules, but because I don’t like them. This first film is wholly original, suspenseful, and moody, while the others are indulgent in a charmless way. They could have used more of the wit put on display in…

Commando (Mark Lester, 1985)
Truly, a bad movie. And yet this, basically a Saturday morning cartoon version of the 80’s action extravaganza, manages to excite and entertain.

A Better Tomorrow II (John Woo, 1987)
This is where everything seemed to change. John Woo injects an overwrought air Shakespearean melodrama into a genre steeped in machismo and bristle. An amazing, incredibly violent closing sequence takes this sequel to action heights only hinted at in the original film.

The Living Daylights (John Glenn, 1987)
A wonderful, classy holdover from the more breathable 70’s Bond films, Timothy Dalton’s debut features a handful of really fun chase sequences, as well as one of the great Bond stunts: two guys fighting on a giant net, dangling out of an airplane’s cargo hatch.

Die Hard (John McTiernan, 1988)
The perfect “pure” action movie. An exquisite balance of dire stakes, menace, wit, and intensity, no one’s been able to top McTiernan’s original.

The Killer (John Woo, 1989)
John Woo’s action bromance is a bit much for me. While I prefer A Better Tomorrow II and his upcoming ‘92 opus, The Killer still has its fair share of awesomeness.

Lethal Weapon 2 (Richard Donner, 1989)
The first Lethal Weapon hasn’t stuck in my memory, so it gets left out here. Regardless, I think it’s widely accepted that its sequel is more action-packed and intense. It really is the showcase of the whole series.

 

Hard Boiled (John Woo, 1992)
Probably John Woo’s masterpiece. Things start to get a little dodgy with some of the most outrageous action scenes you’ll ever seen… in my estimation, the root of today’s Looney Tunes action movies. Regardless, Woo manages to keep things under control in what I consider to be his best movie, its climax featuring an audacious and amazing long take.

The Fugitive (Andrew Davis, 1993)
Deceptively simple, this might be the textbook 90’s action movie, alongside Speed. It’s got all the essentials: an everyman hero, lots of momentum, and well-constructed scenes of clearly communicated suspense.

The Professional (Luc Besson, 1994)
Quite possibly a cheat, as Luc Besson’s film really does hold much of its action for the end sequence. However, it must be included to acknowledge the hard work the French have been doing to keep the action genre alive since the early 90’s. I could argue against the quality of the European pure action output, but at least they’re trying. The U.S. has all but abandoned the genre.

True Lies (James Cameron, 1994)
The ultimate Arnold Schwarzenegger experience. James Cameron pulls out all the stops and publicly confronts his frustrations with the James Bond character, resulting in a fun, hopeful, and bombastic action classic.

Speed (Jan de Bont, 1994)
Sometimes things just line up perfectly some times. On paper, in the year 2011, the combination of Bullock, Reeves, de Bont, and writer Graham Yost should not compute. And yet, here we have a relentless action movie that probably should have been the basis of Die Hard 2. Fantastic stunts and set peices, a compelling gimmick, and believable characters make Speed worth re-visiting.

Desperado (Robert Rodriguez, 1995)
This is most likely Rodriguez’ best film, a stylish cross between the spaghetti western and Hong Kong actioners.

Die Hard With a Vengeance (John McTiernan, 1995)
They just don’t make them like this anymore. From the get-go, McTiernan’s return to the Die Hard franchise is fast, funny, and controlled. Willis and Jackson have fantastic chemistry, and the gimmick is perfectly woven into John McClane’s curse. Turn this on and watch the time fly by.

GoldenEye (Martin Campbell, 1995)
Setting up a precedent that was almost impossible to follow, Campbell and Brosnan re-invented James Bond perfectly for the 90’s. Aside from laughable femme fatale and a dated score, this is one of the greats in the series. There are too many fantastic sequences to list, but my favorite might be the utterly destructive tank chase.

The Rock (Michael Bay, 1996)
This bombastic free-for-all could best be described as a “greatest hits” album for action scenes. If you can imagine the action movie trope, it’s in this film, Michael Bay’s best. Still the arguable king of the Bruckheimer catalog, the slickness and clarity and melodrama of this thing just carries you along. It doesn’t hurt to have funny, legitimate performances from Connery and Cage.

 

Eraser (Chuck Russell, 1996)
Probably Arnold Schwarzenegger’s last good, fully rounded action movie, this almost gets disqualified for its sci-fi weaponry and CG effects, but it gets a pass for grit. Freakishly re-watchable, Eraser has several highlights, one of which being Schwarzenegger managing to survive a fall from an AIRPLANE.

Mission: Impossible (Brian DePalma, 1996)
At times absurd and posturing, but predominantly taught and moody, this is probably the movie on this list I’ve seen the most number of times. Brian DePalma, apparently the only human on earth with the ability to properly adapt a television show for the screen, crafts the consummate “high tech” action thriller of the 90’s. The Langley sequence had a lot to do with my burgeoning interest in filmmaking (aside from the rat of DOOM), and the film’s bombastic finale is the stuff summer is made of.

Con Air (Simon West, 1997)
This might rival The Rock as Bruckheimer’s apex. This hilarious and freakishly destructive thing is just too much fun to take your eyes off of. I remember eagerly anticipating this during the Summer of 1997, as Trisha Yearwood sang us all to the box office window to slap down our hard-earned money. The key to this film is conviction, and every performer seems to have been bitten by the bug. They’re all on the same page, and that page just exploded.

Face/Off (John Woo, 1997)
Who could have ever predicted that Nicholas Cage would have come as close as he did to being an action icon? Alas, this is his last passable action movie, and it does not age well. Despite having some incredible thrills, the film has all the sap and kitsch of Con Air, and none of the wit. Not only does Cage go completely off the rails as Sean Archer, but Travolta is kind of embarrassing as both his characters. Great gimmick, though, and again- fantastic action of the sort we really never get anymore.

Tomorrow Never Dies (Roger Spottiswoode, 1997)
This underrated Bond film suffers from a ridiculous villain performance, but contains some of the Brosnan era’s best stunts and action scenes. Not only that, but the film is allowed to get a bit personal, introducing a secretly -and obviously- pregnant Teri Hatcher as a flame from Bond’s past. That little subplot takes the movie to surprising levels of cold-hearted awesomeness.

Ronin (John Frankenheimer, 1998)
I desperately need to re-watch this cold, car-chase ridden thriller from the late nineties. I almost forgot to include it, but I remember enough to know it should be on here.

Lethal Weapon 4 (Richard Donner, 1998)
The (hopefully) final entry in the Lethal Weapon series is, in my opinion, sort of underrated. Featuring several mind-blowing action sequences and a fairly strong turn from villain Jet Li (in an early American appearance), the movie also gets the family dynamic right, which was a miss in the lackluster third movie.

 

The Way of the Gun (Christopher McQuarrie, 2000)
Fiendishly underrated, the first and only feature by Valkyrie and Usual Suspects screenwriter McQuarrie is a real gem. Featuring an ugly, awkward, and thrilling shoot-out, as well as several other gritty, yet clear sequences, the movie knows what it is and works hard for its stripes.

The Bourne Identity (Doug Liman, 2002)
It took a lot of convincing for me to be on board with Matt Damon’s action debut, but the proof is in the pudding. A fantastic car chase, an amazing sniper sequence, and a handful of raucous fight scenes earn this movie a lot of respect.

Once Upon a Time in Mexico (Robert Rodriguez, 2003)
Cheap, fast, and kind of shoddy, this is the rare Rodriguez “flick” that actually works. A big cast, a busy storyline, and plenty of slick action distracts the viewer enough from some absurd and sloppy sore spots.

The Rundown (Peter Berg, 2003)
Colorful, silly, and loud, this underrated action comedy came and went without much fanfare, but it deserves a second look. The Rock has yet to really become the action star he seemed destined to become after this movie, but there’s still time.

Kill Bill: Volume 1 (Quentin Tarantino, 2003)
Its modernity (right?) makes it the catch-all for all the kung-fu movies that are sorely missing from this list. Indulgent and self-centered he may be, but you cannot deny that Tarantino knows how to stage a fantastic action set piece, with clear stakes and motivations.

The Bourne Supremacy (Paul Greengrass, 2004)
One of the best examples of our current action movie landscape, this change of tone for the Bourne series is in a league all its own. Cold, brooding, and, well- shaky, Greengrass’ action debut (as well as its sequel) make a strong case for a shooting style that isn’t very well supported by any other movie.

Collateral (Michael Mann, 2004)
Another potential cheat, as it really saves its two extended action sequences until its climax. You’ll notice that Mann’s Heat is missing from this list. Perhaps it should have been included, but this film has a much higher action-to-dialogue ratio. Regardless, this is Mann’s most underrated film, a slick and straight-forward thriller with an amazingly chaotic night club shootout.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (Doug Liman, 2005)
I’m actually having a hard time recalling a lot of this action comedy, but I do remember quite an awesome car shoot-out towards the end, and a pretty intense fight scene in there somewhere. Say what you will about the movie’s bizarre ending and severely annoying gossip fodder, Liman can bring the goods when he really wants to.

 

Mission: Impossible III (JJ Abrams, 2006)
Slick, fast, and twisty, this underrated entry in an underrated franchise redeemed the whole shebang after a shampoo commercial-inspired misstep from John Woo in 2000. Although the film still smacks of a Tom Cruise vanity project, the plot gives a major ending moment to a secondary character, and members of the IMF team have their share of time in the limelight, as well. Overall, a fantastic and dynamic action movie from J.J. Abrams.

Casino Royale (Martin Campbell, 2006)
Quite possibly the best pure action movie of the decade, Campbell’s return to the series trades a hectic pace for nicely revealed tension, paid off by bombastic action. From a wise and restrained use of the already-tired parkour trend (lifted from the fun sci-fi actioner District B13) to a sickeningly tense progression of chase sequences during the middle of the movie, Campbell keeps things classy with long stretches of character development, tone, and plot, before tying everything up in a solid action finale.

Death Proof (Quentin Tarantino, 2007)
I’m definitely cheating to get Death Proof in here, as it really only has one big action set-piece. However, that set-piece is so amazing, and lengthy, that it had to be included. While a handful of the film’s performances and line deliveries do fall flat, the film is a very entertaining slow-burn, with a payoff that makes the rest all the more worthwhile.

Live Free or Die Hard (Len Wiseman, 2007)
A divisive choice, for sure. Despite its odd tone, unclear physics, and heavy reliance and composites, Wiseman kind of shut my mouth with some fantastically staged action scenes. The Hollywood Saloon might describe this as more of a bad pilot for the Die Hard TV show than a movie fitting of its canon, but I think it does have some very tense, cinematic sequences.

The Bourne Ultimatum (Paul Greengrass, 2007)
The final Bourne chapter is one of the best modern action movies, and – to be honest – one of the biggest perpetrators of the trend that has gone a long way in killing the genre. Despite its herky-jerky camera work, the movie’s action scenes are pleasantly easy to follow and, above all else, involving.

JCVD (Mabrouk El Mechri, 2008)
Kind of a stretch, as this really much more of a drama than an action film, but its action scenes are fantastic, and clearly staged. Plus, it gets points for ruminating on one of the genre’s fallen soldiers.

Transporter 3 (Olivier Megaton, 2008)
I did not make up that director’s name. The fact that a Transporter film is on the list might be a sign of our times, but I’ll admit that this movie stands out from its glossy series because of a wonderfully natural gimmick. The first two entries in the series are not bad, but Transporter 3 I find underrated and more accessible. This is representative of the newest sub-genre of action movies: the Looney Tunes action movie, combining slapstick comedy, audacious CG stunts, and sophomoric shock to keep male adolescents entertained. To be honest, I’m not a fan of movies like Crank, Shoot-Em-Up, and the rest, but I won’t discount the whole movement just yet. Statham’s output seems to be worthy of some attention.

Fast Five (Justin Lin, 2011)
Now, I didn’t see The Expendables, so maybe I missed out, but it seems like this strange specimen is the modern-day torchbearer of “pure action” Featuring three fantastic action sequences that are clear, imaginative, and fun (and one hard-to-follow fight scene between Rock and Diesel), I was shocked at how much I enjoyed the fifth entry into the “Fast and/or Furious” franchise. Big kudos to director Justin Lin, who clearly has an appreciation for “pure” action.

 

So, what’s next? It seems studios aren’t much interested in practical stunts and real explosions, but who knows? Maybe there’s hope, not just from foreign and indie filmmakers, who are armed with ever-cheaper equipment. Looking forward, it seems Steven Soderburgh has a little action movie he’s been working on. Brad Bird, who staged some fantastic sequences in The Incredibles, will most likely perpetuate the Mission:Impossible series’ straight-forward action. If nothing else, this list has proven to me that I’ve got plenty of movies left to watch, so hopefully my adrenaline will never have to drop to a healthy level of human operation.

Like I mentioned, hit me up with stuff I missed, stuff I should see, or stuff I messed up.

 

So apparently, according these people, the long-rumored Rapture is happening tomorrow. Clearly, these are false prophets and doofuses (doofusi?) that worship their own expectations and bad time management, but it certainly has gotten the collective subconscious dishing, hasn’t it? Just to be safe, though, there is a realization that’s come to convict me pretty strongly recently. Here’s some truth that will make people more uncomfortable than Lars Von Trier without his meds:

Jesus is God, and every good thing you’ve ever done or said or thought is a miracle of God.

Now, I’m perceived as wrong an awful lot around here. (Crystal Skull = A) That’s because I’m a damn, dirty human, and am incomplete. I am not God, you are not God, the planet is not God, we are not God. So, I can be wrong all I want, but God can’t be. He’s not allowed, so there you go. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

Let’s say I AM wrong about the false prophets, though. What is humanity in for?

Honestly? They might be part of an awesome movie, despite terrible living conditions. I’ve never been a big fan of post-apocalyptic movies, but I have to admit there have been some classics. Below are my favorite movies that take place in either an ending or having-had-ended Earth.

But first, a question. As I mentioned, I’m not incredibly well-versed in post-apocalyptic cinema. A few years ago, some awesome guys made a post-apocalyptic movie in our neck of the woods, featuring Hump Day‘s Josh Leonard. You can check it out here. Besides the following films, I’m wondering if I’m missing out on a genre I’ve purposely ignored for a long time. I know The Road and The Book of Eli have gotten some praise in the past few years. Should I check them out? I also have trouble categorizing the genre. I left a few movies off my list because I wasn’t sure they would count. If they do count, throw ‘em on there as runners-up: They Live, Night of the Living Dead, Shaun of the Dead, The Last Man on Earth (not a question, just a runner-up).

 

1.) Children of Men – It’s only been a few years since Alfonso Cuaron released his masterfully messy story about the potential twilight of man, but it continues to crawl up list of my favorite movies of all time. Despite taking place in a bleak Dystopia, the film works like an amazing piece of music, driving all of its anxiety and tension towards one transcendent moment. The fallout of that moment is as harrowing as the rest of the film. A fact that has been highly publicized is that much of the horror in the movie is captured in floating long takes, a visual motif Cuaron carried over from his other road movie, Y tu mama tambien. Despite its incredible cinematography, production design, and visual effects, Children of Men just would not work without Clive Owen’s lead performance. His Theo has been beaten up by life, and Owen wears that in his hangdog expression. It’s the kind of down-and-out movie star performance that reminds me of Dean Martin’s Dude in Rio Bravo. Not only is the film certifiable bad-ass cinema, it’s also a pretty great argument for total depravity.

2.) Wall-E – Possibly the most cuddly post-apocalyptic movie ever, this robot love story is something you can put on and watch it any situation. Quite possibly my favorite Pixar film, Andrew Stanton really went all-out making sure that the romance works here, and that we really believe in Wall-E’s isolation. Not only is it a fantastic movie about life after the end of the world, but it’s also an incredible movie about loneliness.

3.) Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) – Philip Kaufman’s creepy and hard-hitting remake of Don Siegel’s original 50′s horror classic is just plain amazing. The build-up to the end of it all is sickeningly tense, as we are introduced to a close-knit group of characters, then watch them evade sleep as the rest of civilization succumbs to the subversive invaders. Not only does Invasion ’78 feature one of the great movie endings (don’t ruin it for yourself by watching it on YouTube) it also boasts another one of those fantastic mustachioed Donald Sutherland performances (see: Don’t Look Now). What bowled me over on my first watch was Kaufman’s ability to plant seeds of tension early on, as we get the strong feeling that background characters and extras have already turned, long before the main characters realize what’s going on.

4.) Planet of the Apes – Just having this film on the list seems like a spoiler, but let’s be honest. The movie’s been out for over forty years, and the spoiler image is on the DVD cover, not to mention referenced in one of the great Simpsons episodes (“Protect the Queen!” “Which ones the Queen?” “I am.” “No, you’re not.”) Based on Pierre Boulle’s fantastic novel, this 60′s classic trades in the novel’s modernity for an almost Ben-Hur approach, understandably.

5.) Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior – I’ll be frank. I’m not a fan of George Miller’s Mad Max. I have no real connection to Mel Gibson’s character. I find a lot of the eccentricities of the Mad Max universe to be kind of annoying, along with some of the performances. I can’t call this a perfect movie, or even one of my all-time favorites. I can, however, admit that its aesthetics, plot, and action scenes are just plain incredible. I bought the film on blu-ray just so I can experience the film’s climactic tanker chase in the best possible fashion. If you haven’t seen The Road Warrior, and enjoy the endorphin release of a well-constructed, adrenaline-pumping car chase, you’re seriously missing out. The fact that this is post-apocalyptic is probably irrelevant.

Just like most conversations in my life, a theological musing has led to a car wreck. Go back to my earlier questions, though- Post your favorite post-apocalyptic movies, fill me in on the genre specifics, and above all- on Sunday morning, do NOT trust Chiwetel Ejiofor.

 

I’ll admit my last few entries (IE, every entry this year) have been a little negative, perhaps whiny. I wonder how much of that has to do with cocoon experience of feature film post production. At this point last year, I was beginning the hardest phase of post (DIY sound mixing) and had just lost my day job, hopping headlong into a freelance lifestyle.  This year, my life has found a semblance of balance and clarity. I’m back into a full-time gig, production on the film is reaching its twilight, and family time is at an all-time high. We’ve pulled out of the nose dive, and we’re back to steadily climbing through the clouds. Despite doomsday prophets and tragic disasters, the future is bright, and hopefully future posts will be more Richard Simmons and less Eeyore.

This Summer Movie Season, my wife and I are again going to make time for a date a week, centering on a given movie. The motivation is less dire this go-round, so our rules will be a bit flexible. We’re trying not to cater to opening weekend hype, and we’ll be more apt to skip the features that just look horrible. That could have saved us from some stinkers last year, but again, the motivation was different. I can only pray I’ll never again have to watch Prince of Persia: Sands of Time.
It’s probably no secret, at this point, that the Summer Movie Season is something I love. It has somewhat snuck up on me at this point, but the slate looks fantastic. These movies look much better than those of 2010, one of the worst summers in recent memory (though it was nowhere near as bad as 2001).

Here’s the schedule, kicking off TONIGHT, followed by Cinco de Mayo at Rosie’s in Huntsville!

 

May 5 – Fast Five

• Why? The ads you see on facebook work on this meat head. The Rock vs Diesel should have happened a decade ago. Also, I hear the stunts are practical, and the studio’s dexterous handling of the franchise is just plain fascinating.

May 15 – Thor

• Why? Marvel’s “in-canon” productions have not yet dropped the ball. Last year’s Iron Man 2 was a disappointment, but didn’t fully end the party. Branagh’s take on the god of thunder looks like goofy, glitzy fun.

May 20 – Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

• Why? I’m actually a fan of the last Pirates film, bloated as it was. While this entry looks like a murky B-squad effort, I’ll always gladly lay down some cash for some jungle adventure.

 

June 5 – X-Men: First Class

• Why? This is more my wife’s jam than mine, as she enjoys the first half of the franchise, as well as the films of one James McAvoy. I’m not sold on Matthew Vaughn, who left a bad taste in my mouth with the tone deaf Kick Ass. All things considered, however, a Space Age take on the early days of the Uncanny X-Men is a brilliant idea, and the first trailer looks good.

June 12 – Super 8

• Why? Seriously? This is the no-brainer of the summer. Any attempt at bottling “that Amblin feeling” is a noble crusade. Our current plan is to ride our bikes to the theater at magic hour, complete with trading cards strategically placed in our spokes for that authentic engine sound.

June 24 - Green Lantern

• Why? For me, this is the big question of the season. Will audiences accept such a huge, galactic, bizarre scenario? I’m a fan of Martin Campbell, and I think America’s love for Ryan Reynolds will go a long way in boosting the film’s appeal. Here’s rooting for Hal Jordan.

 

July 4 – Tree of Life

• Why? This might just be my most anticipated film of the year. With that, I should remind you there are a pair of Spielberg films set to come out this winter. That should say something. I pray that Malick’s latest gets a Huntsville release in time for the 4th.

July 14 – Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, Part II

• Why? Although there are other films I’m anticipating more, I’d be a bad husband if I didn’t make sure we got to this thing with a measure of urgency. That said, the last two films have been absolutely fantastic, and I look forward to seeing the characters find resolution.

July 17 – Transformers: Dark of the Moon (Critical Alternate: Cars 2)

• Why? Absolute morbid curiosity. Like a dog returns to its vomit, I find myself believing Michael Bay’s rhetoric about learning his lesson. Our safety net, if the buzz is as bad as it probably will be, is Pixar’s latest, which is shockingly not
• on our main schedule.

July 22 – Captain America

• Why? Cap sits in my ultimate triumvirate of favorite superheroes, along with The Phantom and Superman. This film could be a re-release of the 1990 Matt Salinger debacle and I’d be there. I think I can say that I’ve been on board with this project from the get-go, and nothing I’ve seen so far has me worried. I’m not expecting a Jaws or a Raiders or a Dark Knight, but I’m hoping for a fun summer movie experience.

July 31 – Cowboys & Aliens

• Why? I can’t put my finger on why, but I’m predicting this to be huge; a Pirates-level sleeper hit. It’ll be a success in my eyes if the tone can match the title, and if Favreau can utilize Ford to his full potential… an impossible feat for- what, a decade*?

August 5 – Rise of the Planet of the Apes

• Why? I love the conceit of this franchise beyond those fantastic Simpsons jokes, and I return to it every few years. There’s great potential to explore the universe of the original series even further, not evident when looking at Burton’s 2001 re-imagining. The first trailer looks promising.

 

August 12 – Catch Up!

• Why? This date is to catch any sleepers, oversights, or rare indies we may have missed throughout the summer, like Cars 2 or Cave of Forgotten Dreams. It’s also designed to catch the Spring season gem that we may be missing right this second before it leaves the second-run theaters. Examples of this would be Source Code, Adjustment Bureau, or Rango. Last year we caught How to Train Your Dragon during one of our off weeks, and it turned out to be a highlight of the movie year.

 

So that’s about it. This really contradict my last blog post about watching less stuff, huh? If you indulge in the popcorn this year, remember to perhaps budget an hour after the movie to talk to someone about it, even if you’re making fun of it. Theatrical viewings are meant to be shared, and the Summer Movie Season will be dead within the next decade if we don’t foster that experience.

What are your most anticipated movies of the summer?

 

 

 

*It was 80% achieved in Indiana Jones & The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

1.) Greater Appreciation
It’s no secret that movie audiences – and therefore, movie media outlets – are bored stupid. Greater attention paid to shock projects and publicity stunts are clear indicators that movies aren’t regarded as “special” anymore. The fewer movies you watch, the greater a commodity they become in your life.

2.) Better Digestion
The more you consume, the less you process. If you pick a high-nutrient piece of entertainment carefully, you’ll get more thought, excitement, and pleasure out of it. Also, taking control of your viewing habits and properly compartmentalizing your intake re-trains your attention, allowing for a richer understanding of story.

3.) Less Noise
I’m sure there is a statistic out there somewhere that details how much television a person watches daily, or how many movies people watch weekly. Regardless of the number, imagine the amount of narrative that we ingest on a given day. Next, realize that your brain continues to process all the different parts of these narratives – combined with latent and new memories in your actual life – as you sleep. We’re a society of noise and distraction, and we’ve yet to find out how that relates to stress, sleep, and stability. Having fewer narratives to process again translates to richer experiences, deeper dreaming, and greater focus.

4.) A Return to Awe
We often complain that movies no longer feel mysterious, the way they did when we were children. It’s easy to blame that on studios’ over-reliance on CGI, but how much of that is because we’ve allowed movies to be so accessible and disposable? If you knew Super 8 was the only movie you got to see this summer, how would it affect your anticipation, or your overall feelings about cinema? A trip to the theater should feel like a treat, like a visit to an amusement park or a museum, rather than a convenience store.

5.) More Clearly Defined Tastes
The post-60’s “film buff” has evolved into the Information Age “film nerd”, and a love for quality, personality-defining movies has evolved into a white-washed love for all movies. I think anyone considering movies to be a religion should probably take some time to worship at the altar of Percy Jackson or Limitless next time they get a chance. The medium is clearly fallible. Taking a step back and choosing your entertainment carefully gives you control over the garbage vying for your attention, and will allow for a personal connection to form between you and the movie.

6.) Personal Effectiveness
On that note, movies are only as good as the personal connections and experiences we bring to them. The average movie is two hours long. How many miles could you run in that span of time? How many awesome conversations could you have? How much work could you get done? Watching fewer movies allows us to live life, which not only enriches the soul and our environment, but also enriches the movies we give our time to.

7.) Diversification
In the same vein, how precious do movies become when they’re leveraged against books, paintings, comics, or music? Instead of ingesting yet another movie, spend that time reading a history book or listening to a philosophy lecture. So much of my film nerd life has been spent tragically illiterate, pouring hours and hours into movies without the slightest perspective on the full breadth of the narrative idea, and how it is functional in other media. Not seeing a well-utilized dolly shot for three months will completely re-energize the technique’s meaning, and calcify cinema’s legitimacy and importance.

8.) Fewer Comparisons
One of the great tragedies of millennial film nerd culture is the increasing trend of movies to be likened to sports. The rise of the “list” and Oscar chatter has pitted completely disparate films against each other like gladiatorial slaves. I’m preaching to myself here, as I am guilty of this on numerous occasions. I wish I could approach every film as my first film as a viewer; not in a naive, insular, childish way, but in a way that understands that every film must function alone, within its own universe, on its own terms.

9.) Voting for Quality
Almost every minute spent on a film sends its producers a message – “Give me more of this.” There is an overwhelming cry from movie audiences for more quality, and less quantity. The easiest way to convey this is to vote with your dollar, and to vote with your time. If a movie looks bad, don’t talk about it. Don’t go see it out of morbid curiosity, don’t exert time or energy on it. Just ignore it. Bad art goes away if you ignore it. If you feel like a movie might be bad, just do yourself a favor and skip out on it.

10.) Economics
The less money or time you spend on movies, the more valuable each movie experience becomes. You begin choosing your media wisely, and according to a specific set of decisions. There is a growing sentiment among independent content creators that piracy is a sign of the future, that eventually, all content will be intangible and free. I completely disagree. The act of buying a CD or an iTunes single has, for me, only bolstered my love for what I purchase, and has widened the margin between time spent listening to background filler and time spent enjoying music I truly love. I’ve attempted to limit my theatrical visits this year, as well as my absorption of blu-rays and streaming content, in an effort to keep an account of the movies I see.

Movies are, in our moment, the narrative medium of choice. They have become, and should remain, special capsules of our story. For me, that “special” feeling is going away, and fast. Part of that is undoubtedly age, some of that is cultural climate. I think it’s undeniable, however, that there an invisible movement arising that believes movies are easily digestible content, that movies are made for a moment, like a sports event or a pop song, and then are to be archived and forgotten (unless they are deemed objectively extraordinary). I would urge moviegoers to resist. Don’t go to the movies blindly. Be smart. Movies are not a global economy, to be fed wildly for fear of collapse. They will survive if you don’t go see every lame duck that waddles into theaters or the crimson kiosk at Walgreen’s. Hold steady, and when you find a gem you just can’t avoid, go all out and chow down like it’s Thanksgiving.

That’s about it for this time. Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to keep your eyes glued to The Nocturnal Third’s official site for updates as we approach the release of a film you may or may not choose to see.

Francis Ford Coppola is wrong.

http://the99percent.com/articles/6973/Francis-Ford-Coppola-On-Risk-Money-Craft-Collaboration

I highly encourage young filmmakers to check out the above interview with Francis Ford Coppola. He says some wonderful, enlightening things about film as an evolving art form, as well as the possible death of paid artists.

As we teeter on the precipice of an entirely open world of shared entertainment and expression, it’s interesting to see such a visible and legendary film director as Coppola suggesting that “maybe the students are right”.

But I take issue with something Coppola says in regards to professional filmmaking:

“You have to remember that it’s only a few hundred years, if that much, that artists are working with money. Artists never got money. Artists had a patron, either the leader of the state or the duke of Weimar or somewhere, or the church, the pope. Or they had another job. I have another job. I make films. No one tells me what to do. But I make the money in the wine industry. You work another job and get up at five in the morning and write your script.”

This is confusing for two reasons. First of all, artists did get money from said patrons. Julius II wouldn’t let Michelangelo starve during the painting of the Sistine Chapel. Secondly, this statement is a complete false analogy when applied to cinema.

Coppola has another job, he says. Sure he does. He reigns over a giant food and wine empire. The wine’s not bad, I’ve had it. You can find it at your local Kroger for under ten dollars.

Here’s the hitch though, Francis, and it goes without saying: It’s completely unrealistic and unreasonable to expect any young filmmaker to overlook his passion for cinema for 40 years while they build a wine company or otherwise become a self-made millionaire.

Besides, even if it was a realistic goal, there would still be a conflict with something else Coppola says in the interview:

“I was always a good adventurer. I was never afraid of risks. I always had a good philosophy about risks.”

Coppola’s supposed brazen decision-making is chronicled in a dozen sleazy dirt sheet books about the New Hollywood, and I won’t quote those accounts as fact, but I’m certain for one thing: The man never took as many risks in building his company as he did in his art. No entrepreneur would take the risk that was Apocalypse Now. Asking a young filmmaker to lead a risk-free life outside of filmmaking is entirely irresponsible, if that exterior life is supposed to somehow finance the risky cinema.

I’m obviously irritated here, so I’ll get back to the point. What Coppola seems to miss is that you can’t actually make films by deciding not to get paid for making films. I can honestly say that every other filmmaker I know would gladly clean Taco Bell bathrooms as a day job every day for the rest of their lives if they could simultaneously sustain their families and make original, expressive, and authentic films. We’re not asking to get paid, Francis. No one’s asking to make money off of this.

But guess what? Cameras, awesome as DSLRs are, cost money. So do editing computers, and props, and printing, and transportation, and food, and distribution. But, honestly, I could stand for Coppola expecting all these things to come from the Taco Bell employee’s pocket. What that day job can’t cover, however, is the real issue, and the real heart of filmmaking.

People.

Let’s cut the messianic, badly bearded indie film writer/director out of the equation entirely. There are extremely hard-working, passionate, and smart people who work on movies that deserve to be paid money for their hard work, passion, and expertise. This is the true need for cinema to be a fiscally endowed endeavor, and it is a just one.

Bravo for you, Mr. Coppola. You beat the system and you’re making movies on your own terms. Let’s not forget that you got paid to make some awesome movies. The Godfather is as close as America will come to having a national epic outside of Moby Dick and The Searchers, but I applaud you most for Tucker: The Man And His Dream. There’s an amazing speech at the end of the film:

When I was a boy, I used to read all about Edison and the Wright brothers, Mr. Ford. They were my heroes. “Rags to Riches” — that’s not just the name of a book, that’s what this country was all about. We invented the “free enterprise” system, where anybody, no matter who he was, where he came from, what class he belonged to — if he came up with a better idea about anything, there’s no limit to how far he could go.

Expecting the little guy of one stripe to become a big guy of another before he can blaze new ideas is a blurry fantasy. Cinema cannot escape its Industrial Age roots. It is an assembly line. That assembly line, however, does not have to be made up of soulless machines and yes-men and accountants. The key lies, not in giving up the dream of being rewarded by the faulty system, but rather twisting the faulty system to the needs of the dream.

Coppola has lost touch. The man in the castle, living in a second dimension. He can keep those insulated films that he finances as a tax write-off.

Meanwhile, a new generation of angry, starving, and bright young filmmakers are ready to be recognized, waiting for the right time to blow the socks off of anything the old men ever managed to produce. Those, the failed hippies, the drug-induced big talkers. Again, no one’s asking to make money off of this. At least none of us. It was Coppola’s generation that managed to turn the New Hollywood into an era of excess and greed.

We’re not asking to be rewarded for our work. We’re asking to DO our work, but that work happens to come with a price tag. Who knows what a new age of patronage will bring, but thank God there will always be the scrappy little guy, looking to peddle his newest idea to the keeper of the castle gate.