It was just this week I heard an upcoming Hollywood movie release being referred to as a 'tent pole'. This after being already disappointed by two 'big' films I really should have enjoyed, especially since the clever ad campaigns had seen me looking forward to them for so long.
'Man of Steel' I discovered to my dismay had been masterfully made to look more than the sum of its parts by a spectacular promotion that had us all gagging for its opening - only to find, like the seemingly most impressive of magic tricks, it was all rather empty illusion. Okay, I know it's down to personal taste; I am much older now than when I took a rather flea bitten seat many years ago to watch Christopher Reeve first donning the famed red cape. Maybe it's just me, but is the old version still far and away the superior of the two? Even with all the visual 'benefits' of CGI?
'World War Z' was somewhat better, a little more thoughtful, but still was a long way off the soul ripping realism of 'The Walking Dead'.
Just what is the problem here? Well, I personally think Hollywood is in crisis right now, and it's an easy conclusion to reach judging by some of the movies they are throwing mega money at. 'The Lone Ranger' has been quite nervously anticipated, and not without cause, for it seems another bitter disappointment is flying our way. And yet, the powers on high seem to hold a panic-fuelled desire to plough all their efforts into the work of those directors who will provide plenty of spectacle - but no substance. The success of the summer blockbuster is paramount. And why not? It has served well in the past. 'Pirates of the Caribbean' was huge - so they made another, and another, and yet more. And then someone thought to take on a new story . . . "and get the same director and Johnny Depp together again!". A recipe to make big money? Maybe.
It might be interesting to be a fly on the wall in some of the Hollywood board rooms, for it occurs to me this dead certain recipe for success has slightly burned in the oven. Saying this, if the film going public keep patronising these movies, the studios are going to carry on churning them out. The golden calf has been knocked from its podium with the bottom falling out of the DVD market. Hollywood was all too slow getting on board with on demand downloading and on-line streaming, letting companies like Netflix take the bigger slice of the pie. And now with HBO and AMC producing superb television, tinseltown is relying on vacuous, effects ridden, big money tentpoles that seem to have about as much depth as a culture dish.
Of course, just keeping up with the competition isn't going to be enough. They'll want to go one better, although I have no idea what they could possibly come up with to perform such a feat. I am quietly confident however, that Del Toro's 'Pacific Rim' will do the reverse of what I have so far seen. The trails have shown next to no scenes of dialogue; it's all been big and loud Tokyoesque action, not even trying to suggest a level of narrative depth and drama that the 'MofS' trailers tried to put forth. The difference? Guillermo has a positive track record - one which I know he will be keen to keep.
The worrying thing is the pretty obvious remit being pushed through at the moment - to cut out real drama in favour of big budget spectacle. Are we so shallow as an audience to settle for this? I certainly hope not. Multiplexes are already having their choice of more meaningful movies cut by this push for a visual and audible rush. You know it - the same 'big' movie shown in two auditoriums, giving those of us who don't want 3D a choice of a 'flat' version. But surely if the on screen drama is of good quality, such froth doesn't matter. Once you're hooked by the plight of well rounded characters, feeling like you're in their shoes, then you'll stay with the movie to the very end. And 3D? Well, once your brain becomes accustomed to it you tend to forget it's there.
In the end I know I'd rather see something lower key that has depth and layers than be disappointed by an empty promise, especially when there are probably many yet ignored film makers who would give us far more than those directors taking the current limelight. But, sadly, money talks more loudly than raw talent.
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
Thursday, 4 July 2013
Stimulated - or sicko?
The title of this short blog is the question I asked myself after listening to a well regarded horror fan and podcaster sharing opinion on the movie adaptation of Jack Ketchum's 'The Girl Next Door'. It's a film I have personally not seen, even though I borrowed the DVD from a friend after he had recommended it. In all honesty, it sat on my bookshelf for weeks. Not to go deeply into the finer points . . .
I just couldn't bring myself to sit and watch it.
And it made me wonder somewhat why I might even want to in the first place. What is it about body horror that draws us in like moths to the proverbial flame? I am like most people, shocked and disturbed by the real inhumanity man can show to his brother/sister - or worse . . . to a child. Every now and then a news report will come up of some mass atrocity in some far distant land, or an unthinkable murder in a usually peaceful place much closer to home. And then we'll think once again about the things we are apt watch in the name of entertainment . . .
Or is it something else?
Is it something beyond our capacity to reason; a strange catharsis perhaps, or some primal need buried in deep - from when we were supposedly little more than animals ourselves? True indeed that the lower members of the animal kingdom would seldom, if ever, have the mind to contemplate the consequences of a violent action against one of it's fellow creatures. If driven by pure instinct they might always have a reason for killing, be it for food or to show dominance within the hierarchy of species concerned. We possess no such excuse - not in a civilized society. And yet we, like the animals we share this planet with, cannot escape the drive to do harm to our neighbour - and then to recreate the experience to be revisited in the gossamer guise of art.
Don't get me wrong, some of my closest friends are horror geeks and very nice people to boot, but their taste in horror fare is not one I could possibly share. Then again, I am convinced that none of them will experience an urge to commit an appalling atrocity anytime soon. Of course, some people may say we humans are drawn to the dark, as if it were our natural tendency. Now, that's a very curious question in itself and maybe deserves deeper discussion. As far as I see it, horror can never merely be a 'hobby'. I am tempted to think most fans worth their salt see something in it that most of us fail to see - and I speak for myself in some respect to this.
Take Clive Barker for example. Now here is a man who sees beauty in the macabre, deep poetry in the complexities of a disassembled human body; so much so that, for a time, he elevated himself above most others in the genre - not by shameless self promotion, but by the quality and gut wrenching power of his work. His 'Books of Blood' can be recommended to leave one breathless and fearful . . . yet brimming with admiration.
In conclusion, I tend to think that horror entertainment in it's broadest sense, provides a strange yet deep catharsis that can barely be explained. I've never heard a true fan admit they just 'get off on it' and I doubt I ever will. I don't believe the true fan would dare be so crass. The real reason for our fascination with the dark side seems to me to be just slightly out of reach, not easily explained, yet silently providing it's healing touch to make us return again and again for more. And I suspect, going forward, there will always be plenty of material to select from.
I just couldn't bring myself to sit and watch it.
And it made me wonder somewhat why I might even want to in the first place. What is it about body horror that draws us in like moths to the proverbial flame? I am like most people, shocked and disturbed by the real inhumanity man can show to his brother/sister - or worse . . . to a child. Every now and then a news report will come up of some mass atrocity in some far distant land, or an unthinkable murder in a usually peaceful place much closer to home. And then we'll think once again about the things we are apt watch in the name of entertainment . . .
Or is it something else?
Is it something beyond our capacity to reason; a strange catharsis perhaps, or some primal need buried in deep - from when we were supposedly little more than animals ourselves? True indeed that the lower members of the animal kingdom would seldom, if ever, have the mind to contemplate the consequences of a violent action against one of it's fellow creatures. If driven by pure instinct they might always have a reason for killing, be it for food or to show dominance within the hierarchy of species concerned. We possess no such excuse - not in a civilized society. And yet we, like the animals we share this planet with, cannot escape the drive to do harm to our neighbour - and then to recreate the experience to be revisited in the gossamer guise of art.
Don't get me wrong, some of my closest friends are horror geeks and very nice people to boot, but their taste in horror fare is not one I could possibly share. Then again, I am convinced that none of them will experience an urge to commit an appalling atrocity anytime soon. Of course, some people may say we humans are drawn to the dark, as if it were our natural tendency. Now, that's a very curious question in itself and maybe deserves deeper discussion. As far as I see it, horror can never merely be a 'hobby'. I am tempted to think most fans worth their salt see something in it that most of us fail to see - and I speak for myself in some respect to this.
Take Clive Barker for example. Now here is a man who sees beauty in the macabre, deep poetry in the complexities of a disassembled human body; so much so that, for a time, he elevated himself above most others in the genre - not by shameless self promotion, but by the quality and gut wrenching power of his work. His 'Books of Blood' can be recommended to leave one breathless and fearful . . . yet brimming with admiration.
In conclusion, I tend to think that horror entertainment in it's broadest sense, provides a strange yet deep catharsis that can barely be explained. I've never heard a true fan admit they just 'get off on it' and I doubt I ever will. I don't believe the true fan would dare be so crass. The real reason for our fascination with the dark side seems to me to be just slightly out of reach, not easily explained, yet silently providing it's healing touch to make us return again and again for more. And I suspect, going forward, there will always be plenty of material to select from.
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