Weatherlight: Film and Culture

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2011-07-22T12:14:00.001-07:00

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The Rise of the Indie Game Developer

2011-03-27T15:04:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, Swedish games programmer Markus Persson walked out of the development studio where he'd spent the last four years of his life making free-to-play flash games, went back to his apartment, and created Minecraft. His impulse was guided by the simple notion that game developers should only make games they care about. Less than two years after its release, Minecraft has been purchased by more than 1 million people around the world. There are more than half a million YouTube videos dedicated to the sandbox building game, numerous 24-hour live streams, and more than 3 million registered online community members. Not bad for a game made on a whim.

Given the growth of digital distribution, the rise of mobile platforms, industry-backed funding schemes, and a general feeling of competitive spirit, there has never been a better time for independent video game development. Innovation, creativity, and self-sufficiency are thriving in the global games industry; "indie" games are no longer approached with caution but are hailed as examples of brave, risky game making, led by a spirited wave of new creators who are embracing a DIY ethos. Minecraft, Super Meat Boy, Braid, and Limbo are examples of successful indie titles created by individuals or small teams that have managed to capture the attention of both the indie and mainstream space while retaining their creators' original vision. But for every Minecraft, Super Meat Boy, Braid, and Limbo, there are countless other titles--some just as innovative and spirited--that fall into obscurity and remain there, unnoticed and unappreciated. Given the means by which most indie games are published, unaided by the same marketing and promotion campaigns considered routine in the mainstream space, this is not all that surprising; nor is it surprising that luck plays such a big part in determining which indie titles "make it" and which don't. What does this unpredictability say about the future of independent game development? Can self-published games really continue to thrive in a space dominated by a handful of large studios whose overriding concern for financial gain leads them to repeat the same tired formula?

Minecraft and the key to indie success

The most astounding thing about Minecraft's success is that the game isn't even complete. Persson has kept it in beta stage until he's done implementing the various changes he has been working on since he came up with the idea for the game. It has been sold at various prices to date, according to Persson's progress; at the moment, you can buy Minecraft for €14.95 ($20.67) in beta stage. When it's finished, Persson plans to sell the game for €20 ($27.66). Take a second to reconsider the fact that the game has, to date, been purchased by more than 1 million people. Although Persson is better off financially now than the day he quit his programming job, he's no more enlightened about the reasons behind Minecraft's phenomenal popularity.

"I think it's a mixture of launching the game just as indie games were really taking off by pure luck, and the fact that people enjoy telling each other about what they make in the game," he says. "I think part of the label of 'indie' is that you make games for the sake of making good games rather than just to make money, so there's an inherent will there to be experimental and original. But as with any craft, I think it's important that you know why you're doing it. If you just want to express yourself or affect people, you shouldn't waste time trying to make business deals. Some of the time you can get lucky and find something new and exciting, but many times you just end up alienating the player unless you're very careful at exactly how you break the conventions. [In Minecraft], the combination of being able to create anything you want and the randomly generated worlds and encounters means there's a lot of room for personal stories."

This, perhaps more than anything else, is why Minecraft has gained the following it has. The game gives players freedom to leave their personal mark: there are no quests, goals, or rules; no linear story; and no guiding hand of the creator pushing players towards an inevitable end. Minecraft presents players with a sandbox world and lets them populate it with their own stories through engineering and a random combination of elements. Simplicity has a lot to do with it: building stuff out of blocks is something anyone can do. But more than that, it's the promise of possibility and depth that seems to be drawing players in. The Internet is buzzing with examples of the size, scope, and depth of Minecraft's world: a roller coaster; a topographically correct, albeit not to scale, rendering of Earth; and a highly detailed, full-scale version of the Enterprise from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Minecraft is doing something right. It's giving players what they want, and what they cannot seem to get from other gaming experiences. But what is that, exactly?

"I'm not so sure there's nothing indies can do that big studios can't," Persson says. "Valve took a chance with Portal but wisely chose not to spend too many resources on it, and it ended up being a huge success. I think it really comes down to risk management, where the almost guaranteed return of investment on a sequel to a popular game is more tempting than taking a chance on something more experimental. You can either try to replicate what someone else has done, and risk ending up drowning in the noise, or you can focus on making a game you yourself would enjoy playing."

"I choose to develop games I like to play myself, mostly because that's also the games I like making the most. I also happen to represent a fairly common demographic, so it works well. I think the current hype surrounding indie games will probably die out over time, and the more commercially successful companies might start to get more organized, but I see no reason why games can't continue to be made by small teams who make games for the sake of making good games, and still make a decent living doing so."

Whether it was more to do with luck than with timing, or whether it's simply a case of bringing together elements that players can't get from other gaming experiences, Minecraft has unwillingly set an example of how best to make it as an indie. You can almost hear the collective thoughts on independent game developers everywhere: "How do I do that?" Which leads to the bigger question of whether there really is a formula for success in the indie scene, or if it's merely about doing what you want and hoping for the best. Increasingly, the answer is pointing towards the latter, something that does not guarantee the indie golden age will last.

Journey, Monaco, and the role of publishers

By definition, independent video game development is the business of making games without the support of publishers. On the surface, the indie scene is about self-sustainability and creative control; underneath, it is guided by the same set of core values that have guided other independent movements before it. The Impressionist painters of the 19th century spearheaded one of the earliest indie movements in modern art: while artists had already begun to move towards self-sufficiency after the Renaissance in the 17th century, looking for alternative ways to fund themselves outside the patronage of the Catholic Church, it was the Impressionists that finally broke free from the established rules of academic painting and began to hold their own independent exhibitions.

The Impressionists were radicals, living by the principle that progress could be achieved only through the breaking of conventions. Their ideas were also part of the larger artistic, literary, and intellectual movement of Romanticism, whose roots lay in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution; the art of the time was guided by a newfound sense of individuality and emotion, emphasizing realism and the plight of the average man and unified by a communal independence and spirit of rebellion. The term "art for art's sake" was coined during this period, a principle that has continued to guide independent movements from politics through to video games.

But while the very nature of "indie" implies a DIY approach, the ideas driving growth, evolution, and transformation are arguably more important than the methods by which they are achieved. Artists do not particularly like the idea of patronage, but have always depended on it to survive. This is an important distinction to make, for while it's in the nature of indie developers to stay away from publishers, the truth is that the indie movement could not have reached a golden age without their support. While mobile platforms are slowly growing and providing independent developers with an outlet to make small, cheap titles, it's big publishers like Microsoft, Sony, Nintendo, Apple, and Valve that have been the most influential in helping indies reach an audience. Platforms like Steam, XBLA, PSN, the App Store, and WiiWare have given indie games exposure and have served as a critical tool in helping audiences understand what indie games are all about. By doing this, publishers have provided indies with a much-needed audience.

One of the industry's most successful indie studios, Thatgamecompany, has been publishing on Sony's PSN since its debut title, Flow in 2007. The game was the first in the studio's three-game deal with Sony. The studio was founded in 2006 by Jenova Chen and Kellee Santiago, graduates of the University of Southern California's Interactive Media MFA program. Their aim, now as when they began, was to create games that push existing boundaries through meaningful experience, something they could not have done without Sony's help.

"It's amazing how quickly publishers adopted a new business model and how they've adapted to a different process," Santiago says. "I think they have been great at that. Although, one area that I think does need to be improved going forward is access--right now indie development is synonymous with downloadable games, so there could be more done to improve access to these titles and help users understand how to get to these games, and in some cases, help them realise that they even exist."

Thatgamecompany hasn't had much trouble with the latter--upon its release, the studio's second PSN title, Flower, debuted in the top five PlayStation Store games and continued to stay in the top 20 as the months passed. Santiago points out that the PS3 audience is a hardcore audience, and if they want to play games like Flower then this suggests that there is plenty of room to create games that challenge existing gaming conventions.

"As a gamer, I certainly want to play more games like this," Santiago says. "I'm also someone who values games, music, films, and books that have a sense of soul and real personality to them. I would love to see more developers try and create games like this. We know there is an audience out there wanting this kind of stuff, and the gaming conventions we're familiar with are so limited; the craft of video game design is still so young so I don't think there is as much a need to rely on past design principles. There is opportunity to stand out."

Santiago and the Thatgamecompany team are self-professed followers of a game design school that advocates the process of making game mechanics work around an idea or emotional experience rather than the other way around. This is harder than it sounds: games are made up of rules that must be followed in order for the game to actually work, so putting emotion at the forefront of this process means there aren't any patterns to draw from. This method also served as the basis for Thatgamecompany's upcoming title, Journey--the last in the Sony three-game deal. At its core, Journey is an online experience that seeks to explore the territory that lies between current online multiplayer experiences (game first, social experience on top) and social games found on sites like Facebook (social experience first, game on top).

"The team focused on making the online experience completely embedded within the game itself. So when you start the game you're in the world, and as you move you can encounter other people, who are players--there are no gamertags and no messaging system, just other players who essentially become characters. You can play together, or you can keep playing by yourself. We wanted to give the player a sense of being small and humble, so they could feel more connected to a stranger. We threw away what we know about the online experience. It's similar to the idea that there is a narrow range of emotional experiences in games currently. You could say the range of experiences in online gaming is even narrower, so we felt there was a lot of opportunity to offer something different."

On the other end of the spectrum lie developers whose previous experience with publishers pushed them towards working independently. Andy Schatz, founder of Pocketwatch Games, designed his 2010 Independent Games Festival (IGF) award-winning title Monaco, a four-player co-op game inspired by French heist films and set in the city of the same name, while working for a AAA studio in 2003. After unsuccessfully pitching the project to a number of publishers, Schatz decided to go solo. While he recognises the importance of platforms like Steam, XBLA, PSN, and the iPhone in giving indie developers wider exposure, he is convinced that publishers are not doing enough in this space.

"Big-budget games are boring," he says. "Even the best ones are boring. Indie games often suck too. But because there are no corporate dollars involved, indie developers can make games that they are passionate about. Good indie games are never built for a demographic: they are built with the passion of the developer. In the best cases, that passion is infused into the game in such a way that it rubs off on the gamer."

Schatz believes that as long as big-budget titles continue to "suck," the indie scene will continue to grow bigger and bigger, and the quality of indie titles will improve. Although he does believe that there is some value in repeating things that work well, he says that game developers often hit a creative wall when designs begin to cross each other's territories.

"When designs get inbred, they no longer are good designs--they only work for the people that have played all the previous iterations of those designs. I'm a huge fan of RPGs, but modern console RPGs like Fallout and Oblivion have really bastardized the design into something that looks similar to the old games we love, but don't actually work on their own merits. Yet I still played both of those games because I understand RPG conventions. I thought they were both boring, but I played them nonetheless, probably because RPGs are an obsessive compulsive affair. I have a hard time believing that someone who is new to RPGs will really enjoy them. On the other hand, I really like the new Assassin's Creed multiplayer. It's not perfect, but it's genuinely fun, and it feels like it was designed from the ground up as a game and not just an inbred variation on a formula."

Schatz believes indie developers can get a lot further with critical success than with publisher support. For him, winning the 2010 IGF award for Excellence in Design was a big step in the right direction.

"Commercial success would be nice of course," he says. "It would be great to not be poor. But nothing gives me the inner satisfaction or feeling of self-worth like critical success. It's why I've been able to stay indie for the past six years despite modest and intermittent commercial success. It's part of the nature of the indie scene to cater to audiences that aren't being satisfied by big-budget games, so I think there will always be an indie scene making the games that the AAA guys and gals are too risk-averse to attempt. Us indies have to keep exploring, and we have to keep welcoming in outsiders. The current crop of indies won't be tomorrow's innovators: it will be fresh faces, the ones that think we are the ones doing it wrong. I love that I'm getting old and boring; it means that there's more out there that can surprise me."

Jonathan Blow, The Witness, and giving indies a helping hand

The indie golden age isn't just about a greater number of audiences enjoying independent games; it's also about bringing financial stability and a certain hierarchy to the indie development space. Indie developers once all stood on the same platform--a platform with limited resources, limited manpower, and limited funds. Now, a certain hierarchy has begun to form. Certain indie developers have now hit the big time, changing both their status and their position in the indie scene. Some have used their success to form their own studios; others have joined bigger studios; a few have even stayed put, continuing to work in exactly the same way they always have. However, as the indie scene continues to grow stronger, the same kind of oligarchic structure that rules the wider games industry will inevitably develop. The number of indie developers that have had success to date is a small one compared to the number of developers out there currently making independent games, meaning as they rise to the top, they will soon be in a position to help others, thus creating growing dependence and consolidation within the indie space.

Whether or not this is a good or bad thing remains to be seen. One could argue that as long as someone out there is making independent games that seek to challenge existing gaming conventions and provide audiences with new experiences, then the way the industry is structured doesn't matter much. But who is to say the indie scene will continue to uphold its indie values once success and mainstream attention begin to influence its structural foundations?

About a year ago, some of the most successful independent game creators joined together to form the Indie Fund, a project that aims to provide indie developers with a monetary alternative to the publisher model and thus help promote financial independence with the indie scene. Cofounder Jonathan Blow (Braid, The Witness) says the project is about more than just helping out fellow indies--it's about encouraging creation and helping the indie community get stronger.

"For me personally, I like the idea of using what money I have in an actual productive manner, to help make the world better in some way, and then hopefully get a return on it," Blow says. "In the game industry there are decades of a kind of road-to-nowhere funding model that many developers fall into. They need money to make a game, they get that money from a publisher, but the publisher gives them the minimum necessary and takes as much royalty as they can and pays as late as possible. So [developers] are in a poor bargaining position, and this happens over, and over, until the developer finally dies or somehow gets lucky. The publisher doesn't care if the developer dies, because there are 10 other developers just like them who are begging to sign a lousy deal. Indie Fund is about providing better terms than that and letting developers keep much more of the money from game sales, so as to provide an alternative to this model."

The way the Indie Fund model works is by handpicking a small number of projects out of the hundreds of submissions received so far and delivering monthly payments in return for monthly builds of the game. Once the game is released, Indie Fund asks for the initial investment amount and a small percentage of the revenue (proportional to the amount of funding needed to complete the game). If a game does not generate enough revenue to repay the investment to Indie Fund within three years of release, the agreement expires and the developer no longer owes any money. The application process itself is even more bare-bones: Indie Fund doesn't ask for a design doc or a full schedule--just a playable prototype that shows the promise of the idea. While this model certainly sounds risky, Blow believes having veteran indie developers judging each project helps to ensure against total failure.

"It's made easier by the fact that our developers operate on budgets that are very low compared to the budgets of publisher-funded games. Because we give the developer most of the royalties, an Indie Fund-supported game is a credible shot at financial independence, so people are willing to work very cheaply--eating-ramen-and-living-at-your-mom's-house cheaply, maybe--because they are mostly working for themselves. The other reason we're better than publishers is that we don't tell the developer what to do. We give them advice, but ultimately we leave them to make their own decisions. That's important because that decision-making power is what it means to be independent. When we sign a developer, we decide at that time that we have faith the developer has the talent and tenaciousness to make a good game. Thereafter, we do not micromanage or demand they make the main character a badass monkey man."

Besides nurturing up-and-coming indie developers, Blow is looking after his own project, The Witness, an exploration-based puzzle game set on an uninhabited island and due out at the end of the year. It is unlikely that luck will play much part in The Witness's success, since Blow's first title Braid was a critical hit. He touches on Santiago's earlier point about the indie method of shaping game mechanics around an idea or experience, rather than the other way around, and its relation to the idea that the act of playing a game has a negative impact on its ability to effectively communicate its ideas (since first and foremost players must actively engage in the act of play before they can begin to think about what they are playing).

"Games are fundamentally bad at telling stories because the stories basically have to be pasted in there and have nothing to do with the gameplay. However, when forward-thinking game designers talk about communicating ideas through a game, they aren't usually talking about just pasting something in there--they are talking about meaning embedded in the actual mechanics and play of a game. Thus what you experience during play is the meaning, and there's no contradiction."

"I am not going to try and craft a game to please critics, just like I am not trying to craft a game to please players. I am just trying to make the thing that is the best that I know how to make it, which seems to mean something different for every game I work on. What I care about is that some players out there, somewhere, really get and appreciate the work, and that something happens in the world, however subtle, that wouldn't have happened if I had not made the game."

Blow is of the mind that his work with the Indie Fund will ensure that the indie scene will not die out or transform into a carbon copy of the mainstream industry. The fact that indie developers continue to be free to fail will remain their great strength.

"They can be a bit crazy. They can do things that others would not, and some of those things can be very successful. But if you look at the games that indies are actively developing at any time, there is also a lot of conservatism--people just making games that are trying to be like mainstream games, but on a lower budget. So that's a bummer, but most of the big indie hits of the past several years have been non-conservative games. I would hope that more aspiring indie developers would pay attention to that fact."

Ask most indie developers some of their favourite indie titles of last year and Super Meat Boy is a guaranteed mention. Edmund McMillen and Tommy Refenes (aka Team Meat) started out like most indie developers--making Web and flash games and other "website server crap," as Refenes elegantly puts it. Also like with most indie developers, their hit idea originated from a prototype flash game--one that McMillen and friend Jonathan McEntee made in about three weeks. After the game became popular on the Newgrounds website, McMillen was approached to develop a console version.

"It's interesting, this thing about luck. I would say we have had horrible luck," McMillen says. "Our initial console launch was horrible. We launched [on Xbox Live Arcade] at the most competitive week in the most competitive month for games, alongside titles like Costume Quest. We thought we were screwed. But word of mouth picked us back up, and then Steam picked us up and carried us through the year. So yeah, while I think luck plays an important part in the whole indie business, it's the overall quality of the game that's more important. I'd like to believe that all the most successful indie games in past five years have also been the best."

McMillen, 30, and Refenes, 29, live in different states. This makes working together hard, but not impossible. Not that either of them has thought about doing anything differently: after working for big-budget developers and publishers, McMillen and Refenes are passionate about never working for anyone, or having anyone work for them (the words "I'd rather shoot myself in the face" were used). The two developers know what they want. They remain certain that other indie developers feel the same way, which is why they believe that while the indie golden age may one day pass, there are always going to be creators who want to work independently and who will succeed in creating engaging, and successful, independent games.

"I think it's important to understand that in the 1980s and 1990s studios were doing things the way indies are doing things right now--they just made cool games," McMillen says. "There are so many more levels to it now--publishers notice us, there are dedicated awards, etc. Every year the industry discusses whether they just experienced the heyday of indies and whether it's all going to go downhill from there. But it always seems to get better. Two years ago it was all about World of Goo and Braid; last year it was Super Meat Boy, Minecraft, and Limbo. From a design standpoint, every indie game that comes out and does well makes it more OK for big developers to go into that territory. I think because of Super Meat Boy there might be a super-hard platformer from a big studio soon; similarly, if Braid never happened, maybe Limbo may not have been picked up. Every indie success opens the door to new possibilities."

"It's always going to be sustainable because there are always going to be people who can only do things that way," Refenes says. "So even if [the current generation of indies] do grow into a mini-industry, there will be new indies after us. That's never going to go away."

Team Meat believes people loved their game because it was honest. Not necessarily because it pushed the boundaries of game design or tried to do something that has never been done before, but because it didn't talk down to gamers: it wasn't easy, and it wasn't trying to make money.

"I think people get tired of being talked down to by games," McMillen says. "A lot of mainstream publishers and developers treat their fans like they're dumb. They want to make sure everyone can beat the game, and this removes all real reward. They juice an IP for all it's worth. I can understand why people say that games aren't art--it's because the majority of mainstream games out there are pure business. Game design is all about risk, reward, reflex-driven, intelligence-based playing; sure, it's not something everyone can do. But if you do nothing new no one will care. As an indie you have to do something new. You have to do something better."- Laura Parker

Unintentional Diptych #1: Grey Gardens (1975) & Dogtooth (2009)

2011-03-04T09:48:00.000-08:00

Aside from the obvious—sequestered filial oddity; country estates; and cats, too many to count in Grey Gardens and a very memorable one in Dogtooth—these two films complement each other in a very particular way that warrants mention: Both are presented so plainly and with so little outside frame of reference that the decidedly strange goings-on of each house begin to feel normal. That the direct cinema approach of Grey Gardens entails no voice-over narration on the part of documentarians Albert and David Maysles allows the two Edies to tell things their own way, and their bizarre worldviews—which seem, at least in part, a result of their relative isolation from anyone but each other—take on a consistent internal logic. So, too, do the just-as-strange habits and beliefs of the nameless Greek family in Dogtooth, who bark like dogs to scare off potential cats, rattle off wildly inaccurate definitions of common words (zombie = a small yellow flower; motorway = a strong wind), and listen to Frank Sinatra under the impression that the man singing in a language they don’t understand is their grandfather. What’s more, the father acts as translator and informs his children that the lyrics to “Fly Me to the Moon” are about honoring thy mother and thy father, sans the religious connotation. Family above all else indeed and, what’s more, the two films’ bizarre closed systems function well enough until intrusions from the strange, hostile outside world put them in jeopardy. This comes in the form of newspaper articles lamenting the disrepair of the titular estate in Grey Gardens and—egads—pop culture in Dogtooth.

Clues by which to glean the latent meaning of these two films are few and far between, and herein lies the ultimate intrigue (and fun): Each is so wonderfully off-putting as to not require a satisfying, catch-all explanation. They function as puzzles whose final pieces must be supplied by the viewer; there aren’t answers so much as there are guesses. Were this not the case, the effect of the two films would be lessened rather than enhanced. To call them oblique is an understatement but, in their own way, both Grey Gardens and Dogtooth act as fitful reminders of the inherent danger—and, in the latter, humor—of narrowing the lens through which we view the world. That only one of them is fictional (and thank god it’s Dogtooth) somehow adds an encouraging note to an unintentional diptych that is otherwise as disturbing as it is dispiriting. - Michael Nordine HTN

Stale Bread and Stale Love?

2010-12-29T16:31:00.000-08:00

Writers have been writing love stories for as long as some of us can remember. Every plot needs a love affair. Isn't that right? well perhaps not. Who says that one cannot write a story without a romantic relationship. After all many individuals live without a significant other for at least part of their life. Then why can't we enjoy the life of a lonely gas station attendant that works into the wee hours of the morning and goes home to an empty bed, blown up to fit a theatrical release. Why can't we enjoy the utter loneliness of a human being. After all we are all lonely in our lives, aren't we. We have all shared the feeling of being completely alone in a room rich in walking talking bodies. Having that someone that cares about you could at times be just as lonely as having no one.

Why is hollywood stuck on love? Well for one thing the silver screen has often been considered a mirror for our dreams rather than a portrait of our reality. That projector in the back, and the sixty foot screen in front of us, isn't there to show us our lives. Hollywood is a glorification of everything. People in the movies don't look like us, they don't talk like us, they don't act like us. Though they seem to do all those things. Thats the art of the crew, the magician behind the curtains. They try to make you believe what is up there is you or your friends. So of course you can fall for a girl like Jessica Alba and she will love you too. Which draws us to think that the objective of a romance in a film is to make you believe that it could happen to you. To glorify a human need.

That explanation makes a lot of sense. We have dozens of cooking shows and that fulfills a basic human need. Why can't we have romance and have it fill another need. When you see a television chef prepare a meal, it looks as beautiful as a perfectly formulated romance on the big screen. It's the illusion that you can one day have that in your life, no matter how unlikely that fact might be. Lets be honest most of us will never cook that dish as Chef Ramsay did, and most of us will never get to make love to Angelina Jolie (not my personal taste). Most people that fall in love will live a life of mediocrity lacking excitement, as most people will resort to eating take out, or a below average meal. Movies make you challenge your mediocrity and make you dream.

It's the matter of hope. You can rob us of anything and everything, but the day you rob us of hope, you leave us with nothing. The story of pandora and her box is a great example of this. All the diseases of the world can be born by human kind if you give them one little ingredient, and that is hope. So we watch people fall in love on the big screen hoping we will one day too.

Is hope the only reason we have romance in our films. Well perhaps not, life imitates art imitates life. So the love you see on that screen does in fact resemble the love you share with another person. It is a reality. Maybe you weren't on top of they eiffel tower the first time you kissed, but didn't it feel like you were. Maybe your heart was beating a million miles an hour and you could barely control yourself, but when you think back now wasn't it beautiful? Love is life. If we aren't in love with someone we are hoping to be. If we are not with someone than we are pursuing someone, or maybe just hoping that that someone would turn around and read the love in our eyes.

Perhaps if you asked the lonely gas station attendant, he would tell you about Martha. Martha the hunched over dodgy eyed brunette that fills up at 5PM every day. She does it five bucks at a time because thats who she is. She makes him smile and she laughs at his jokes. He loves her more than he has ever loved a woman and he's waiting for the day when he can finally ask her out on a date. Now that's a film. Aren't we all waiting for that dodgy eyed brunette in our lives? Well maybe we aren't looking for those features, but we are looking for her. The films capture that thrust because writers live amongst us.

Either we are in love, or we are falling in love, or hoping we were in love. Films are a duplication of our reality. So yes every good story has a romantic sub plot to it. What would happen if it didn't. Is love the formula for every great masterpiece? Well not necessarily. Shawshank Redemption didn't glorify love as most films do, and it was perhaps the greatest film made. Not every film has to be about love, just as not every film has to show the main actors enjoying a meal.

So why do we put up with the monotony? Well because it makes sense. It's a subject that can be endlessly explored. We will never have enough of it. You can go through a million struggles in your life and you will still think about the girl you love as much as any of the other things, if not more. It takes up a lot of your mind and it takes up a lot of you. So when you sit back to watch a larger than life projection of life, romance makes it more credible, weather its real or not. Weather its a subplot or the main theme. Love is the ingredient of life, and therefore an ingredient to our art.

So go our there Live, Love, and Eat.

Is Netflix Screwing Itself Over By Focusing on Streaming?

2010-12-07T07:15:00.000-08:00

Since it was founded in 1997, Netflix has quickly risen to become one of the dominant providers of home video entertainment. After rendering Blockbuster’s business model woefully outdated, Netflix has made a big bet on streaming, partnering with hardware manufacturers to offer its digital distribution services over many platforms. You can now buy dozens of phones, Blu-Ray players, and video game consoles that stream Netflix movies, and that number grows every day.
Recently, Netflix made substantial changes to its pricing plans, introducing a streaming-only plan for $7.99, while jacking up the pricing of its DVD/Blu-Ray plans. The net effect of this will likely be to drive more people towards the streaming-only plan, while causing some attrition for its higher end plans. This makes sense in the short-run; after all, Netflix’s disc subscribers require Netflix to spend over half a billion dollars on postage per year and maintain costly distribution centers. But by focusing on streaming for the future, is Netflix screwing itself over?

Edward Epstein (author of The Hollywood Economist) has a post at The Wrap laying out the potential pitfalls with this plan. The crux of the issue is that digital streaming is an entirely different market than DVD rentals, primarily due to legal reasons. With DVDs, the “first sale doctrine” allows Netflix to purchase a DVD and rent it out to anyone without getting the permission of the copyright holder. Obviously, licensing digital content is a whole different animal:

In the case of new movies, studios license slates of 20 or so titles in so-called output deals for hundreds of millions of dollars. The average cost for a single title in such a deal is about $16 million for a two-year license. Where Netflix can buy 10,000 copies of a major title for $150,000 to mail out, it will need to spend about $16 million to license it for streaming. Such a hundredfold increase in price can obviously be deleterious to profits especially since Netflix still has to maintain its mailing centers, and buy DVDs, for the subscribers who elect to continuing using the mail-in service either because they prefer DVDs’ higher quality and features or they don’t have the apparatus to receive digital streaming.

Netflix recently made a deal with Epix to get rights to films by Paramount, Lionsgate and MGM. That deal is said to cost about $900 million over the course of five years, not cheap by any measure and maybe not as good a value as buying DVDs (although of course, the eventual saved costs on distribution and postage may make this profitable). Moreover, Netflix recently offered to pay between $70,000 to $100,000 per episode to stream current episodes of hit primtime shows.

Many of Netflix current content deals — deals that have made Netflix Watch Instantly such an appealing option for many subscribers — were cut during a time when people had no idea what the hell digital streaming was or how to value it. This is why we can get Starz movies and episodes of The Office on Netflix; Netflix cut a backdoor deal with Starz for the streaming rights to its content, and its content deals for TV shows happened before properties such as Hulu or ABC.com were as big as they are today. When these deals come up for renewal in 2012, you can bet that the price for this content is going to be much more onerous for Netflix.

In addition, Netflix faces increasing competition from a variety of sources. HBO is launching its own portal, HBO GO, which will allow HBO subscribers to stream HBO movies and original series. Meanwhile, Amazon is launching a Netflix competitor, and the new video games service OnLive may soon offer movies to subscribers. Time Warner CEO Jeff Bewkes (who, to be fair, has a horse in this race; Warner Bros. is an investor in OnLive) recently declared that Netflix hasn’t shown it can compete seriously in the content distribution space.

Netflix CEO Reed Hastings strikes me as a monstrously intelligent guy; I’m sure Netflix has run financial models and done a great deal to predict what will happen if Netflix’s future is streaming-only. But with the world of content delivery in such upheaval these days, and movie studios loathe to cede power to Netflix the way the music industry ceded power to Apple, Netflix may face a more difficult road ahead than its current profits and growth would indicate.

Tightrope Dreamer

2010-10-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

Most of todays world is too impoverished to have the leisure to acquire hobbies that can cost years in time and ample money. The few that do live above the poverty line can in fact find themselves enough time and money to explore the greater, or is it lesser things in life. Now why have I made it a point to bring this up to the avid readers of our dear blog. Well because this has to somehow relate to film. I'm a man of theories. I love creating little theories about life and human interaction that can than either be accepted or punctured by my fellows. Having cleared that, I propose that filmmakers in the US like other artist, become so at times due to the opportunities found in our great country, or by the picturesque self portrait created by hollywood.

What I chose to propose today is simple; Hollywood is a magnet for dreamers who strut the fine line of financial independence and a pool of sharks ready to devour them on the other side. Is it really as bad as a pool inseminated with sharks? I would say giving up on your art definitely is. There must be a reason the word art so closely resembles the word heart. No, I don't mean to make heart into her-art, as her-story has become to history, I'm simply referring to the phonetics of it. Art comes from the heart. Well that is a slight misconception, inspiration comes from the heart, great art is well thought out. Though the point is made, the origin of inspiration is also the origin of passion and hence makes men and women do crazy things for their art.

Putting that paragraph behind us lets now talk about the reality of hollywood life. Everyone in hollywood is a dreamer. A landscape of dreamers can be the wondrous and most deterring perspective. On one hand everyone hopes to make millions of dollars. Talk about being the next Spielberg, Aaron Sarkin, or Nicole Kidman is ramped in the streets of this dream landscape. But those that have suffered the reality for a few years have become privy to the thought of mediocrity. Most of these dreamers will simply become pegs in the great hollywood machine. They may even in part be responsible for hoisting the greats on their gritty shoulders. Yet be considered nothing more than mere masses themselves.

In a world where nothing is predetermined and people live in possibilities of what may be rather than the reality of what is, you find ample beauty in the minimal tasks undertaken by the so called artists. Its beautiful to see the self expression of so many individuals and then unfortunately to judge it for better or worse. The struggle continues on, as thousands sacrifice their time for their passions. there is a beauty in these men and women taking mediocre jobs in hopes of one day launching their careers. The servers of this city do so for flexible hours for their auditions. They breathe for their art. In itself isn't that the most beautiful of things, to find pockets of passion in a crowd of lost individuals, for we are all a little lost.

There is no one way to make it in the world of art. it's a constant struggle from day one till the end day. Which is what creates the best of art as is. Art is a struggle of ones emotions with ones physical being. Filmmakers know this too well. Unfortunately for them there is money to be had in a lot of unartistic jobs that make films possible. Many fall prey to the unions that create the magic but are not asked to invent it. Which is neither a strike against them nor those who are responsible to think it up. It is simply another pit fall as the lonely filmmaker treads the tight rope, risking individuality at every second of every day.

He wears on his feet his dreams and possibilities and holds in his hands the great passion that burdens him at times but also balances him. He takes every step with talented precision and every breath with firm determination. He doesn't look back because even one step in is too far along the way to look back. He repeatedly glances at the end of the line, while maintaining his position firmly. He doesn't know the calculated yards between his destiny and his present predicament but he tries to keep a steady pace as the crowd cheers and jeers.

Scott Pilgrim Vs. The Lamentable Weekend Gross — what happened?

2010-08-24T08:39:00.000-07:00

Despite good reviews, Comic-Con buzz, and plenty of pre-release screenings, Scott Pilgrim Versus The World has made only $10.5 million of its $60 million budget thus far. Let's commence the Sunday afternoon quarterbacking.

So Scott Pilgrim came in fifth at the box office this weekend — barring word of mouth that verges on mind control, it's unlikely to go up next week. The film will probably break even in time, but what about the film failed to capture an audience right out the gate? Here are some theories....

1.) Michael Cera backlash: Most thought Cera made a fine Scott Pilgrim, but some folks are very vocally burnt out by his semi-twee brand of comedy. Somehow, this mild-mannered actor has become a lightning rod for intense vitriol. Here's a fake trailer that capitalizes on that attitude:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUEr0aFLY3E&feature=player_embedded

2.) Critical backlash: The movie has a Rotten Tomatoes rating of 80%, but those critics who weren't too fond of film could have set the agenda more so than usual. Every film has its detractors, but as Linda Holmes at NPR observes, the reviews of Scott Pilgrim have been a soapbox for critics to razz on the film's demographic:

After referring to the first part of the movie as a "dork-pandering assault," The Boston Phoenix reviewer goes on to say that Michael Cera's performance is "irritating" in part because of "the non-stop Pavlovian laugh track provided by the audience at the screening I attended." (As far as I know, that's a first: "You made the audience laugh, you irritating actor in a comedy, and that's what's wrong with you.")

The review in the St. Petersburg Times begins, "First of all, I'm not a video gamer. I have discovered more appealing ways to not have a life."

The New York Observer sniffs that the film is "clearly directed at an audience with generational ADD."

3.) The film didn't have much to offer women: In the Scott Pilgrim graphic novel series, Ramona's character is much more fleshed out, as is Scott's propensity to be a Grade-A ass. The film does an admirable job of condensing the graphic novel series into a little less than two hours, but — in the process — Scott's character is a smidge de-jerkified and Ramona's given way less to do. The movie, while just as zippy as the graphic novels, contains more of Scott vying for a silent Ramona. Could it be possible that the film was more of a guys' night out than its creators realized?

In an intriguing essay over at Asking the Wrong Questions, Abigail Nussbaum found herself unable to square the misogyny she found in the movie with her enjoyment of the film:

This is a misogynistic film. It's also a fun one. When it comes to Hollywood blockbusters, that's often the best one can hope for, and Scott Pilgrim might almost be described as a better sort of misogynistic film because if offers distractions from its misogyny rather than foregrounding it as so many others do. But especially given that, according to my friends who are its fans, Scott Pilgrim the comic is a story that tries to combat much of the misogyny that underlies Scott Pilgrim the film and other works of its ilk, it's a shame that this is the best Edgar Wright could come up with—a film that uses flashing lights and bright colors to distract its viewers from the unpleasantness at its core.

I still have yet to see it, but what did you guys think?

Hunting Santa Claus- literally.

2010-08-09T08:49:00.000-07:00

In 2003, Finnish director Jalmari Helander made a zany short film about smugglers in the business of hunting Santa Claus and inadvertently created a viral sensation. The short, “Rare Exports Inc.,” and its 2005 follow-up, “Rare Exports: The Official Safety Instructions,” contained a playfully inventive hook: Helander imagined Santa as a naked, bloodthirsty species far from the charitable bearded gentlemen of Christmas lore. Captured and tamed, Santas could be shipped to consumers each Christmas season and delight clueless children around the globe. By meshing action-adventure tropes with dark comedic inspiration, Helander created an utterly unique high concept premise that practically demanded elaboration. Seven years later, he has taken the inevitable next step with “Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale,” a feature-length adaptation of the material. Although it contains the same goofy spirit, Helander fails to build on the original lunacy, suggesting that great short films may owe part of their appeal to brevity.

That does not make “Rare Exports” any less fun than its predecessors, at least for a little while. The movie technically functions as an origin story, setting the stage for the Santa export business that Helander so cleverly explored in the shorts. It opens with an excavation of Santa’s Finnish tomb, establishing a mood filled with such a familiar kind of cinematic wonder—aided by Juri and Miska Seppä‘s exaggerated orchestral score, and the exoticism of the barren icy climate—that you almost expect Indiana Jones himself to waltz through the scene. Helander mercilessly cribs from the energy of kids fantasy movies from the 1980s, establishing his self-made Santa mythos with a mixture of innocence, wonder and otherworldly creepiness worthy of Tim Burton. “The Coca-Cola Santa was a hoax,” concludes wide-eyed loner Pietari (Onni Tommila), a young boy whose father owns a slaughterhouse on the outskirts of the excavation site. After spying on the Americans unearthing Santa, Pietari does his homework, and learns that the creature was lured into a frozen lake by an ancient civilization. It turns out Saint Nick wasn’t so jolly, but rather a dangerous pest intent on kidnapping naughty children.

Absurd as it sounds, Helander actually manages to play it straight for much of the running time. Using a spare cast and relying more on atmosphere than special effects (the Santa creatures are, after all, just wizened old men), his narrative suggests John Carpenter’s “The Thing” for the holiday season. Sadly, the appeal of the director’s openly derivative approach grows redundant after he establishes the basic threat of Santa unleashed, and the build-up goes nowhere. Only when Pietro’s father and a colleague discover an elderly man caught in a bird trap outside, unaware of the situation at hand, does the suspense nudge upward. But there’s no follow through; we never get the chance to see the full lethal potential of the beast in question.

With hardly any of the run-and-gun entertainment or consumerist satire present in the shorts, it seems as though Helander couldn’t find an ideal strategy for expanding his initial conceit. The climax borrows the worst clichés of modern blockbusters where the earlier scenes borrow some of the best. Helander’s trite, half-baked resolution is held down by murky action and lacks a thrilling showdown. It’s like he suddenly lost a sense of humor, which demolishes the unique vision evident in the shorts. If anything, Helander should have taken even more liberties with the Santa myth and pushed the excessive genre components to an extreme.

An obvious bid for a franchise, “Rare Exports” leaves room for plenty of sequels and the possibility that Helander, a capable filmmaker with the capacity for emulating the feel of a polished Hollywood product, could nail it better the next time out. Then again, perhaps his follow-up should return to the short film realm. The flaws of “Rare Export” offer an important reminder that looking good on YouTube does not provide qualifications for a bigger screen. - Eric Kohn

"The New Year" Review

2010-08-09T08:41:00.000-07:00

Brett Haley’s The New Year is a modest little number in just about every way, from its meager budget (just under 10k) to its understated performances to its graceful handling of material that could have so easily devolved into maudlin made-for-TV schlock. Which is what makes it such a pleasant surprise. Why is it that so many young writer/directors feel a burning urge to amp up the drama and conflict in their stories to implausible degrees, producing work that shows filmmaking talent but lacks real world maturity? To his credit, Haley isn’t interested in those stylistic and emotional pyrotechnics. He is more concerned with telling an honest story, trusting that his audiences will respond to the sincerity of his cause.

The story is driven by Sunny (Trieste Kelly Dunn), a smart, pretty young woman who puts higher education—and, in turn, her boundlessly bright future—on hold in order to return to her hometown of Pensacola, Florida, in order to take care of her ailing father (a wonderfully restrained Marc Peterson). Sunny is clearly destined for bigger and better things, yet she accepts her role as caretaker and part-time worker at a local bowling alley without bitching or moaning. Her relationship with her boyfriend Neal (Kevin Wheatley) is respectful, unflashy, without any overt friction. A reconnection with her high school rival, Isaac (Ryan Hunter), injects hints of actual passion into the proceedings, yet Haley once again keeps this conflict measured and believable. If you’re looking for a violent love triangle showdown, you’ve come to the wrong theater.

As effective as Haley’s filmmaking craft is, The New Year belongs to Trieste Kelly Dunn, who delivers a performance that rightfully calls to mind Ashley Judd’s star-making turn in Ruby in Paradise. Dunn doesn’t overplay her character; instead, she imbues her with a quiet dignity that helps the audience to further appreciate her decision to put her life on hold in order to be with her father. Not many actual young people, especially those with such limitless futures, would accept this role with such grace, yet Sunny is different. Even when she slips up and commits a morally ambiguous act (kissing one boy while dating another? shame!), one can’t help but admire her. This performance, combined with her appearance in Aaron Katz’s Cold Weather, pretty much confirms Dunn’s status as one of American independent cinema’s brightest young actors. If these two roles don’t directly lead to meatier parts in bigger productions, then aspiring actors everywhere might as well quit and take a job at their local bowling alley, because this is as good as calling cards get.

At the 2010 Sarasota Film Festival, where The New Year first screened publicly in April, it surprised everyone by walking away with the festival’s Audience Award for Best Narrative Feature. It was a surprise because at large regional festivals like Sarasota, tiny movies never win this award (it usually goes to a more high profile picture with legitimate movie stars). But this wasn’t an instance of a local film stealing the prize—it’s set in Pensacola, after all. If anything, this overwhelmingly positive response proved that Haley’s hunch was correct, that many viewers out there still want to watch movies about real people struggling to live real lives, doing as good as they can with what little they have. Though, having said that, maybe people were swayed for the typical reason. Maybe they did vote for the legitimate movie star on display, after all. — Michael Tully

3-D Stats are Trending Down

2010-08-05T19:55:00.000-07:00

Hollywood would like to think that 3-D cures all ills. But the stats don’t lie, as a discerning public picks and chooses the 3-D movies that are clearly worth paying a premium for. Check out The Wrap’s analylsis of 3-D performance. The studios may want to reconsider throwing good money after bad when they try to buttress their returns on a bad B-movie with retrofitted 3-D. I quickly started to tune out Step Up 3-D, which actually had some good dancing, which I would much rather have seen in good old-fashioned 2-D. The intrusive 3-D wore out its welcome real fast. (Variety’s Justin Chang disagrees.)

When a smart filmmaker who knows what he’s doing—especially in an all-digital universe like CG animation—shoots with 3-D, the results can be spectacular. James Cameron and Pixar have set the bar very high. Few movies will deliver as stellar 3-D as Avatar or Up and Toy Story 3.

When Did Gypsies Become A-List Celebs

2010-08-03T13:29:00.000-07:00

How did the entertainment industry achieve its current standard. We look far into the past and starting from the middle ages where the performers, mostly gypsy were ill treated and ill reputed. Jesters were but mere clowns, and clowns as we all know don't hold much status. Then you take Shakespeare's actors. Men played women, women weren't present. There wasn't a million dollars to be made from Romeo and Juliet. Comedians and performers were the low end of the totem pole. They worked hard and passionately but it didn't go anywhere and they were never the respected members of society.

Fast forwards to centuries later and the shoe is on the other foot. but how come this time it fits so well? Is it because civilization was a bit cross eyed and wore the shoe on the wrong foot to begin with. Shouldn't art be appreciated more. Well then you question the renaissance and other such movements that held art up to the standards. Art was everything, it was exquisite and beyond. Yet it wasn't a viable business. It was admired but it didn't effect much.

Perhaps it was just theater and performing arts that were under appreciated. The value of art is something that not just every artist but every person should question. Then you have the great composers who rubbed noses with royalty. In the end there seems that the place for artists wasn't under-appreciated, but rather segregated to certain events or so.

What is the difference between then and now. Well one can only speculate. The true solution to this question would most likely require years of study and a formation of a thesis that could perhaps earn me a Phd. Fortunately I don't have the patience for that.

What is the difference then, simple, back then art was appreciated but there was no money in it. The difference between artists and business men is that business men strive to achieve supremacy and artists strive to exist. The goals vary and therefore artists stay poor or mildly rich. But now the business end of it has taken over and the artists are becoming richer and richer. They have accountants, managers, agents dealing with money. And those only make money when the artist makes money. life for them has changed, and they have become role models and in todays world idols.

Kids wanna grow up to be them, they set trends, which in this consumeristic society means not only money but fame and success. There is more of a chance you know Will Smiths next film rather than the current foreign policy set by our dear president. To the point that presidents to be frequent comedy shows to boost their popularity. The world has become quite an interesting place.

So then why. Well it could simply be because of the industrialization of the film industry. Starting with the early twenties and on and on. Films became important to a newly industrialized culture where working conditions were getting better and better, and people weren't working from dawn to dusk in farms or the corrupted factories. living conditions were getting better and better. People seem to have more time on their hands.

Now they couldn't go out every day. So at first film started competing with theater. It seemed generally the same thing. But soon the extensive range of film started to impede on theater and the world started to change. Now we fast forward to the advent of home playing devices. They started to compete with home entertainment, which for the most part consisted of books and perhaps board games. Film started becoming a part of life like nothing else. It started becoming a part of the conversation.

So what is the value of film now? Or the value of books and paintings? Is theater obsolete? All are important questions that vary with the one answering. But important none the less to ask. With all of art that we consume in todays world, do we really understand the need of it or do we just consume it just like every other product. The difference is that art will speak to your soul more than your physical needs.

Not Good: Goodbye UK Film Council

2010-07-29T13:50:00.000-07:00

Between 1997 and 2009, turnover in the British film industry went up by 50%, contributing £4.5 billion to the economy, while cinema takings in the U.K. are at an all time high. This can be partly attributed to the creation, in 2000, of the UK Film Council, a publicly-funded body (whose budget comes from the takings of the National Lottery), with the stated aim "To stimulate a competitive, successful and vibrant UK film industry and culture, and to promote the widest possible enjoyment and understanding of cinema throughout the nations and regions of the UK. The UKFC has a mandate that spans cultural, social and economic priorities."

This past May saw the election of a new government, one that's making cuts to departmental budgets left and right in an attempt to stave off financial disaster, and their latest move, announced on Monday by Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt, and without any kind of consultation within the industry, is to abolish the UKFC. And, while there were many problems with the institution, it's very, very bad news for anyone with a love of cinema, either in the UK or abroad.

The UKFC's principle role was that of a funding body, aiding the development, production and release of British films. In the States, public funding of film is almost non-existent, but in most European countries, and indeed much of the rest of the world, it's a necessity; the studio infrastructure simply doesn't exist in the same way, and it's nearly impossible for a feature film to get made in the UK without some form of backing from at least one of the three publicly-owned boards: the UK Film Council, BBC Films (the likes of "An Education") or Film 4 ("Slumdog Millionaire," among others).

The Film Council has three principal feature funding strands. Firstly, there's a Development Fund, investing roughly £4 million a year on working on screenplays, either in the First Feature Film Development Programme, for newcomers, like Sam Taylor-Wood's "Nowhere Boy," or the Feature Film Development Programme for more established names, including Jane Campion's "Bright Star," one of The Playlist's favorites of last year. This is vital, as it's something that private companies are often less willing to fund; it's less glamorous and more intangible -- too often, British films feel like they haven't progressed past a first draft, and this department helps refine projects before they get in front of cameras.

Once things are further along, there are another two strands. Firstly, there's The New Cinema Fund, which again looks to support emerging talent, with a particular focus on writers and directors from minorities. Recent successes have included "Man On Wire," "Fish Tank," "In The Loop," "Hunger" and "This Is England," films that, to be frank, may well have remained in development hell were it not for the UKFC. For more mainstream fare, there's The Premiere Fund, which has a patchier track record although there have also been some gems, like "Happy-Go-Lucky," or "The Escapist," from director Rupert Wyatt (whose success landed him the gig directed "Rise of the Apes" for 20th Century Fox).

They've certainly backed their fair share of stinkers, though, most notably "Sex Lives of the Potato Men," a raunchy comedy starring Mackenzie Crook ("The Office," "Pirates of the Caribbean"), which is generally regarded as one of the great disasters of the 21st century so far. And they've also missed plenty of opportunities; Garth Jennings' "Son of Rambow," one of the most critically and commercially successful British films of the last few years, was turned down by every British funding board in existence, including the UKFC, and had to go to Europe to raise its budget.

But ultimately, a publicly funded entity can't just fund 12 "Fish Tanks" a year; they have a wider remit. You might hate the "St. Trinians" films (assuming you've seen them), and we certainly do, but, unfortunately, our opinion isn't any more valid than the phalanx of tweens that have brought them to huge grosses at the U.K. box office, and the Film Council simply can't ignore an audience like that, nor should they.

In fact, as a funding body, the UKFC is remarkably successful, returning £5 for every £1 that the council invests -- a rate of return that any studio would be jealous of. Which isn't to say that there aren't naysayers; one look at the comments section of Deadline's story on the matter will show a number of filmmakers who've been wronged by the UK Film Council to one degree or another. One of the most common complaints seems to be that the board awards people who are already familiar to them, at the expense of newcomers; the award-winning likes of Jane Campion, Mike Leigh and Stephen Frears win out, as do names who've won out with the council in the past, while fresh new talent are left out in the cold.

Except that this isn't really true. At all. Newcomers like Wyatt, Duane Hopkins ("Better Things") and Gerard McMorrow ("Franklyn") received substantial awards, and that's only in features. Filmmakers like Tom Harper ("The Scouting Book For Boys," which is still our favorite British movie of the year so far) were able to move up to the big leagues by having shorts funded by the UKFC; the board gives funding of some kind to over 100 every year.

It becomes clear that filmmakers like Arnold, Wyatt and Steve McQueen wouldn't be making the kind of contribution to cinema that they are without the support of a funding body like the UKFC, and cinephiles the world over would be worse off without them. The government have promised to continue funding the film industry, to the tune of £15 million, but it's unclear how this will happen; it seems most likely that the British Film Institute, a charitable organization, will take over this role, but they have a very different remit, focusing more on cinema heritage, and they haven't had an infrastructure in place for this for years. There's also the idea to split their budget and give it to BBC Films and Film4, which is poorly thought out to say the least, and likely to be even more unpopular.

But still, this ignores the impact that the UKFC has at every level of the industry -- it's not simply a funding body. Other initiatives include Skillset, a comprehensive training scheme for people wanting to enter the industry, and First Light, which enables young people to get a taste of digital filmmaking. They're also responsible for aiding distribution for smaller and non-mainstream films through the Prints & Advertising Fund, which has enabled films of all stripes to compete with Hollywood blockbusters - £2 million a year was spent on the distribution of international films, so it's not just British films that would lose out. The UK is still one of the top markets for cinema outside the States, and films like "Reservoir Dogs" and "Donnie Darko" partly owe their reputations to being taken to the hearts of British audiences.

They now partially fund the London and Edinburgh Film Festivals, and the Sheffield Documentary Festival, and enable increased cinemagoing for the disabled through the Cinema Access Programme. Even if the funding for the films themselves continue, it seems unlikely that many of these programs will be continued, and there's little point in funding movies if you don't have a trained crew to make them, festivals to show them at and the ability to compete in the marketplace.

Maybe it'll all be fine. Maybe all the functions of the existing UKFC will be preserved, moved to other bodies and be more efficiently run. There can be little doubt that there was fat to trim in the institution, and that cuts could, and should, have been made; the overheads were very high, even for an institution as large as this one, and a strong argument could be made that the top figures were overpaid. But at the same time, April had seen it announce plans to cut its admin costs by 20%, with the loss of 22 jobs, so plans were already afoot for streamlining, but were never given a chance to be put to use. To scrap the institution entirely seems to be throwing the baby out with the bathwater, and undoes a lot of very good work being done by very good people.

It's not expected to be disbanded until early 2012, so there's still time for the plans to be stopped, and there's a petition to sign and a Facebook group to join for anyone who wants to add their voices. Ultimately, it's a very short-sighted, wrongheaded move, done to make the account books presentable, rather than with any view of the big picture. Hopefully Hunt and his colleagues will see sense, otherwise it risks crippling the country's film industry, and leaving moviegoers everywhere worse off.

YouTube Launches $5 Million Grant Program

2010-07-19T04:27:00.000-07:00

YouTube has announced the launch of a $5 million program to support amateur video creators and help them attract a larger audience to its Web site.

Several emerging YouTube video creators have been able to generate substantial revenues and command an audience that rivals those of the broadcast networks while managing all aspects of their business, from writing, filming, and producing content to the marketing, post-production, and distribution of videos. Despite this success, however, many video creators lack the resources and deep financial backing available to studio-backed production houses.

To remedy the situation, YouTube established the Partner Grants program to bolster the production budgets of a small group of YouTube video creators who are at the forefront of innovation. The grants will serve as an advance against the video creators' future YouTube revenue share, enabling them to invest in better cameras, shoot for higher production values, expand their marketing efforts, and hire more staff, with the ultimate goal of bringing a richer body of content to YouTube users and advertisers and raising the creative bar for online video.

"Ultimately the game has changed, and people are throwing the rules out the window," George Strompolos, partner development manager at YouTube, told the New York Times. "Folks who ten years ago couldn't even get their content shared to friends across the street are now connecting with audiences around the world. We see that not only as a cute thing, where someone has a viral hit, we see these people as the next content creators, the next brand in original programming. It's where our roots have always been, and we are doubling down on that type of programming."

SnagFilms to Expand Library’s Reach to New Platforms

2010-07-19T04:18:00.000-07:00

Documentary distribution outlet SnagFilms—the parent company of indieWIRE—will unveil later today an expansion of the platforms for its nonfiction titles that is timed to its second anniversary, as well as deals with a range of companies for more films. Snag will bring its library of 1,500-plus films to a suite of new sources beyond the original web platform upon which it was launched. New outlets will include the creation of VOD channels with cable network Comcast and Verizon FiOS TV. Additionally, selections from SnagFilms’ library will be available for purchase on Apple’s iTunes and for rental from YouTube’s premium program. There will be both free and paid options for watching films on the new Apple iPad.

Overall, the deals being announced today will increase the size of the company’s library and also bring the titles to an array of outlets instead of relying just on the Internet. Notably, the move highlights a shift away from an entirely free model for accessing some documentary features and shorts.

Select SnagFilms titles will be available through mobile phone carriers worldwide via A3 Media Network, Snag will announce. In the fall, its library will be accessible to internet-connected TVs, Blu-ray players, gaming consoles and set-top boxes. Plans are underway as well for the launch of SnagLearning, a site that will be made available next month to educators in time for the new school year, with over 100 films available to educators for grade and subject, to which supplemental study materials will be added.

Also on tap, SnagFilms will now offer films produced by indie studio Lionsgate, large documentary aggregator New Video/Docurama, select student films from USC’s School of Cinematic Arts, selections from the National Film Board of Canada, a Flip Cam film from the Disney Imagineers showing their creative process, and an array of extreme adventure and music films from the production arm of Red Bull.

Currently, SnagFilms is hosting its second annual SummerFest, which began July 15th. The series offers viewers screenings for two weeks of six documentaries headed to theaters or television in the Autumn. This year’s crop includes “The Age of Stupid,” “Shooting Robert King,” “Disco and Atomic War,” “Videocracy,” “The Socalled Movie,” as well as “A Fighting Chance,” which will later be shown on ESPN.

“Our first two years were aimed at building our library and making those films widely available,” commented SnagFilms CEO Rick Allen, in a statement to be widely distributed this morning. “Our 1,500 films are available on mainstream media sites.”

“We started SnagFilms two years ago for four simple reasons,” said SnagFilms founder Ted Leonsis in a separate statement being issued today by the company. “We wanted to use the scale and interactivity of the web to bring great films to a broader audience. We wanted to create new tools and revenue opportunities for the entire indie ecosystem – filmmakers, festivals, film schools, non-profits, journalists and advertisers. We wanted to provide context and a community for film fans and the industry. And we wanted to deepen the reach of what we call filmanthropy.”

A profile in The New York Times today that broke the news of the deals said that Snag is also working on a deal to put its films on Netflix, but the Times said that the pact is still in the works. The piece, by Michael Cieply, said that Snag is aimed at, “distributing as many as 100,000 films,” quoting Ted Leonsis.

Founded by AOL Vice-Chair Emeritus Leonsis, SnagFilms has become the web’s largest home for non-fiction films, with more than 1500 documentaries streamed free to consumers on 90,000 websites and webpages.

“Two years in, we believe we are benefiting every aspect of the indie world,” Rick Allen said in his statement, “And define our success as a ‘double bottom line’ business that does well by doing good.” - Brian Brooks

Indie Film is alive: "The Kids Are Alright" makes One Million

2010-07-18T18:33:00.000-07:00

With few new indie films hitting the marketplace (and the unusually intelligible studio film, “Inception,” raking more than $60 million), the specialty box office was once again all about “The Kids” as Lisa Cholodenko’s family dramedy expanded very nicely in its second weekend. According to estimates earlier this afternoon, Focus Features released “The Kids are All Right” grossed $1,027,356 on just 38 screens (up from 7 screens last weekend). That placed it 12th overall, beating out films playing in hundreds of screens more than it.

The warmly reviewed “Kids” - which seems like a bonafide contender for this year’s Oscar race - details a tempestuous summer in the lives of Nic and Jules (Annette Bening and Julianne Moore), a couple anticipating their daughter Joni’s move to college. Joni (Mia Wasikowska) has just turned 18, and her younger brother Laser (Josh Hutcherson) wants her to make use of her newfound status as a legal adult to seek out the sperm donor to which both of them were born from. Enter Paul (Mark Ruffalo), who immediately hits it off with his newfound biological children and in turn begins to send the family into quite the emotional tailspin.

Its sophomore gross amounted to a strong $27,036 per-theater-average, obviously a big drop from last weekend’s mammoth average but a promising one as the film continues to expand. It was the best per-theater-average of any specialty release in its second weekend, grossing well beyond “The Ghost Writer,” which averaged $18,350 back in February, and “Cyrus,” which took in $17,719 a few weeks ago. “Kids” total now stands at $1,776,863.

Speaking of “Cyrus,” Fox Searchlight’s comedy went from 200 to 446 in this its fifth weekend, and appears to have peaked. Grossing $1,075,000, the improvised dark comedy actually dropped off 16% from last weekend despite nearly double the screen count. Its $2,410 per-theater-average was down from $6,875 last weekend. Still, the $7 million budgeted film total now stands at $5,065,000 with a few more million sure to come, making it one of the year’s top indie grossers. It’s just clearly not becoming the $30 million+ hit Searchlight had with “(500) Days of Summer” last year.

After debuting on an aggressive 110 screens last weekend (one of the widest foreign film openings in some time), Music Box Films took Daniel Alfredson’s “The Girl Who Played With Fire” to 141 screens and saw a 27% fall in grosses. “Fire” grossed $662,379 for a decent $4,698 average. The second film adapted from the popular book series, “Fire” was eleased just 4 months afters its intensely successful predecessor “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.” “Fire” (which has already grossed over $50 million overseas) has now already grossed $2,001,137, an impressive number for a foreign release.

Meanwhile, two summer success stories continued to perform well. In its fifth weekend, Luca Guadagnino’s critical darling “I Am Love” went from 110 to 140 screens and grossed $420,000, averaging roughly $3,000 per screen and taking its total to $2,666,939. The film, which details the refined world of a wealthy Italian family (led by Tilda Swinton, who learned to speak Italian for the role), is quickly becoming a significant success story for distributor Magnolia Pictures. It should cross the $3 million mark by the end of next weekend.

Crossing that mark this weekend was another summer hit, Debra Granik’s Sundance prize winner “Winter’s Bone.” The film, which follows a young woman living in the Ozark Mountains played by Jennifer Lawrence, went from 106 to 120 screens and grossed a strong $361,720. That gave the Roadside Attractions release a $3,014 average and took its total to a stellar $3,078,392.

Another big Sundance winner - Sebastian Junger and Tim Hetherington’s Sundance Grand Jury Prize winning doc “Restrepo” - went from 25 to 31 screens and grossed $94,262 for distributor National Geographic. That gave the film a decent average of $3,041 and a cume of $410,497.

Finally, in its fourteenth week in release, Sony Pictures Classics’ foreign language Oscar winner, “The Secret In Their Eyes,” passed the $6 million mark at the box office. The film drew $96,213 on 81 screens over the weekend. - Peter Knegt

Whatever happened to the box-office bomb?

2010-07-18T01:03:00.000-07:00

People are understandably excited about Christopher Nolan's Inception. To start with, it marks the director's first film since his 2008 mega-smash The Dark Knight, which took more than $1 billion at the box office. It stars Leonardo DiCaprio as a dream thief who breaks into people's minds and steals their ideas, thus suggesting not only a blockbuster requiring an intimate knowledge of Descartes' Principles of Philosophy to understand it but also a withering satire on the way Hollywood comes up with its summer movie ideas. Most importantly of all, of course, it affords audiences a peek at that most endangered of species, an original idea for a motion picture, making it the only movie this year that could reasonably fail.

Remember that? When films used to fail? Films get called "bombs" all the time, of course—or "disappointments" to use the modern term. This year Prince of Persia, The A-Team, and Robin Hood all "underperformed," taking $190 million, $84 million, and $61 million respectively, although for the true belly flops, we must turn to poor old Jonah Hex, which debuted last weekend with a dismal $5 million, or Uma Thurman's Motherhood, a comedy about a stressed-out Manhattan mother that took just 88 pounds when it opened in the United Kingdom earlier this year. On one Sunday, the box-office sales totaled just 9 pounds, meaning that only one person bought a ticket, thus providing a fresh twist on the old Buddhist paradox: Can a movie be said to bomb if nobody even sees it go off?

The movie bomb used to be one of the more raucous spectator sports in America—watching Hollywood gather together some of the finest talents in the land, throw barrowfuls of money at them, lock them in a sound stage, and not let them out until they had made the biggest, proudest, costliest turkeys yet devised by human hand. Bonfire of the Vanities. Waterworld. Last Action Hero. Cutthroat Island. Their names alone were legend. They bestrode the world like colossi, their charred, rusting bulks a testament to the reach of man's hubris, the folly of human dreams, and the price of bottled water at Spago. They were so famous, people wrote books about them; we pored over every directorial temper tantrum and movie-star sulk like fish inspecting a shipwreck, looking for signs of the times, auguries of things to come, or else just a cheap shot of schadenfreude, although frequently it would be the bombs themselves that had the last laugh. Their notoriety was so great, their shadows so long, that eventually they were subjected to the same revisionism that envelops anything that sticks around in the culture for long enough. Recent critical opinion has it that Heaven's Gate is not a bad film, just a ruinously costly one, and even Ishtar has its defenders—ironic, coquettish types who wink at you from behind their yashmaghs.

What's happened to those films—the megabombs, the nuclear flops? Look up the list of the biggest flops on Wikipedia and you'll find plenty of movies from the last 10 years: You just won't have heard of them. Did anyone here see The 13^th Warrior, a 1999 Viking-and-cannibal flick with Antonio Banderas and Omar Sharif? Or what about Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, a computer-animated Japanese-American co-production about marauding phantoms featuring the voices of Donald Sutherland and James Woods? Sad to say I neglected to see Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever, a 2002 secret-agent thriller starring Antonio Banderas and Lucy Liu, but I neglected even to hear about Soldier, a 1998 sci-fi flick starring Kurt Russell and Gary Busey. As for Anne Bancroft's last role, alongside Freddie Prinze Jr. and Jennifer Love Hewitt in the computer-animated dragon fantasy Delgo—well, here's to you, Mrs. Robinson. Jesus loves you more than you will know.

Together, these movies lost in excess of $1 billion at the box office. They didn't explode so much as implode, sucking up all traces of their existence like those depth charges you see go off in submarine movies, first pluming outward then, just as quickly, inward, smothered by the pound-for-pound pressure at 40 fathoms, of wherever it is that Japanese-American computer- animated co-productions starring Antonio Banderas like to lurk. There are some higher-profile productions in there—Gigli (2003), Battlefield Earth (2000), Catwoman (2004) all have something of the old negative glamour, the inverted stature—but to a large degree, we are in an A-list-free zone. The Alamo (2004) was all set to be a true $200-million stinker starring Russell Crowe and directed by Ron Howard until Disney got cold feet and stripped it down to a 95 million "disappointment" directed by John Lee Hancock and starring Dennis Quaid. Darren Aronofsky looked to be nursing along a beautifully misguided $70 million folly with The Fountain, his metaphysical head-scratcher set in three different time zones and starring Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, until Warner Bros. pulled the plug and forced him to make it for $35 million with Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz instead. Where's the fun in that?

In a way it was inevitable that Hollywood would wise up. The costs of franchise moviemaking had gotten too high, the risks too great. Failure was always such an un-American concept, anyway; it made perfect sense to simply abolish it. Not all failure, of course—we still get out Jonah Hexes and A-Teams—but here's what you don't see anymore: big box office failures of the magnitude of Waterworld, Wild Wild West, Hudson Hawk, Last Action Hero, or Cutthroat Island, the swashbuckler that derailed the careers of Renny Harlin, Geena Davis, and Matthew Modine—and the last film to actually force a movie studio to close, Heaven's Gate-style. By the time we got to Titanic in 1997*, Fox and Paramount would have the sense to split the costs between them.

That didn't stop the Los Angeles Times from running a daily "Titanic Watch" column detailing the troubled production's every snag and snafu. Through the '80s and nineties, the press grew very adept at spotting these things ahead of time. A fired DP. Rewrites. Reshoots. A runaway budget. Those deliciously evocative words "action comedy." They smelled blood in the water, and they moved in for the kill. There was only one problem: Their narrative of Hollywood Hubris was a leftover from another era, before cable and DVD rentals, before the rise of the overseas markets and all the other ancillary revenues with which blockbusters beefed up their box-office figures. The press was all over Last Action Hero, pronouncing it a bomb-in-the-making before it had even reached cinemas, but thanks to overseas revenues, the film ended up making $137 million. Waterworld similarly wound up making $264 million. By the time we got to Godzilla, which made $243 million worldwide, we seemed to be witnessing a new breed of movie altogether: neither a hit nor a flop, neither a blockbuster nor a bomb, but somehow both, circling the earth with the stateliness of blimps, quietly siphoning up rental revenues from Abu Dhabi; pay-per-view profits from Stockholm, Sweden; cable kick-back from Kiev, Ukraine.

Nowadays, they are everywhere: Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, Speed Racer, Land of the Lost, Prince of Persia, the bombs that won't go off, all of them swirling in the same dust-cloud of disappointment that in the old days would have led to them being tagged "flops," only now, thanks to Hollywood's nose for the "presold," standing a pretty decent chance of making their money back—painfully, arduously, slowly but surely. It's not pretty, but Prince of Persia is well on its way to making a small profit, thank you very much, and the same goes for most of the year's other "disappointments"—Sex and the City 2, The A-Team, The Book of Eli—all of them failing upward in the modern way.

I miss the time when we let these things die. Because I am a sicko with an overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude, yes, but also because I think that failures can be just as revealing as successes, maybe more so. One From the Heart is one of my favorite Coppola movies, as beautiful and intricate as a Faberge egg, and I'm a big fan of the bomb buried deep inside Apocalypse Now: That film's proximity to pretentiousness is exactly what makes it such a thrill. I think that Hudson Hawk is not a bad movie. I'm not so certain that Ishtar is a good movie, but it evokes the friendship between Hoffman and Beatty at a high point in both men's careers; there is something lustrous and familiar to their tomfoolery, like old friends who cannot leave a joke alone. Until Waterworld beaches itself on that supertanker with Dennis Hopper, the movie is possessed of a salty, wind-in-your-hair sense of adventure: Costner looks good against an aquamarine backdrop. And I will never turn off The Abyss when it comes on TV (not until the moment when Ed Harris comes back from the dead; then I'm outta there). James Cameron is one of the few filmmakers who regularly look as if they are going to deliver a 24-carat disaster only to make good at the last minute, thus pushing him into the company of such filmmaker-adventurers as John Huston and Howard Hawks, men for whom a movie wasn't really a movie unless it threatened to go into a life-threatening nose-dive at some point.

So yes, I will be first in line to see Inception, damp-palmed and a little nervous for Nolan, hoping he pulls magic out of the hat, grateful just for the suspense. - Tom Shone

What makes a film "Independent" ?

2010-07-15T13:04:00.001-07:00

well? we're asking. what? tell us.

Is a Serial Killer Priest Going Far Enough?

2010-07-06T12:16:00.000-07:00

I have been reading scripts recently and wanted to bring a certain thought to our readers attention. What constitutes as originality?

The answer to that question varies from person to person and for a writer becomes a hurdle in a world where so many thousands consider themselves writers, where it be screenplays, books, or simple poetry. Now can we consider all these self proclaimed writers worthy of their title. Well thats an issue I've been fighting for, for years now. Almost every literate person can write, but to be a professional writer it takes quite a lot more. One of these major facts is originality. Then there is plagiarism and simply tributes as well. We've seen Romeo and Juliet adapted into a million different films and that isn't a stretch since it was once called Tristan and Isolde. The tradition of star crossed lovers goes back beyond generations. Everyone wants to believe that their love is forbidden by society.

Yes there are those that copy the story to the teeth and fail at achieving anything. Then there are those who change certain important aspects of it to make it an entirely new film or any piece of literature. Now you put Romeo and Juliet at opposite ends of the Palestinian and Israeli border, working at competing fast food chains on the border and you have an academy award winning short film. Or was the film a rebirth of Westside Story. Which in turn was a beautifully mastered reiteration of the Romeo and Juliet story.

Make a priest an evil entity and you might achieve the same originality, that was until the Catholic priest scandals of recent history. Now it almost seems that the profession is somewhat tainted as is. However, the trusted local priest being a serial killer is one for the books. Now since we are going that far, how far is too far? Or is a better question; how far is not far enough? If you want to push the boundary than please do so, but do it completely and convincingly. A family film about a Rabbi that edges on psychosis but in the end turns out to be a nice guy, is neither a family film nor a adult drama.

Here is where originality comes into question more so than anything else. The limits need to be pushed, and when they have adequately been demolished, the audience can look back and say this was a great film and not just a good film. These things are not easy to understand or implement as the case may be. A writer is to close to his/her work to simple say "Hmmm… more perversion would help this priest." The writer is merely capturing his reality and the rest takes place as it may. Workshops and such help, but in the end it is the writer that wrote the piece and only he/she has the ability to change it drastically.

So we come back to what is originality. well originality has a lot of names and faces, thats what makes it original right. It is too easy to be comfortable in your ideas and depictions. The boundary of expression needs to be pushed and pushed and redefined a million times to create a million hits. That is not to say that sometimes it isn't pushed too far or simply exploited. But that is exactly the mystery factor in making great films. If there was a formula the studios would have already paid a billion to acquire it, but to the fortunes of writers, directors, and other creative individuals there is no one answer. Art is in the strive to reach the obscure an unknown.

Chris Thilk - Talking about Theaters

2010-07-04T09:53:00.000-07:00

"I’ve been trying to figure out why a story about theater owners focusing on strategies involving 3D and digital presentations (Hollywood Reporter, 6/24/10) rubbed me the wrong way. Finally it occurred to me that the problem with this strategy is that they’re relying on Hollywood to continue to keep the theater-going experience relevant to the movie-going public instead of embracing their own future.

In the restaurant business new places are usually judged on “bread and circus,” the former being the food itself and the latter being the overall environment of the establishment. But, barring something horrible happening, the conversation about going to a movie theater is almost exclusively about the “bread,” the movie itself. If someone is asked about a new theater by a friend, the response is usually limited to a generic “It’s a nice place” or something equally as noncommittal. Especially with the rise of the multiplex in the 90′s, the theater going experience has become a generic one and if a particular theater closes it’s just fine to shift one’s habits to getting the exact same experience elsewhere.

So instead of relying on Hollywood and their current fascination with 3D theaters need to figure out ways to create consumer word-of-mouth. That’s the only way they’re going to survive the next five years in a healthy condition considering those same Hollywood studios are increasingly experimenting with release window changes that are going to impact theater business. The studios have their own best interests in mind and will go where the money is. So theaters need to look at alternate ways to engender a conversation not about the movies but about the theaters themselves if they want people to choose that experience over a Redbox rental and a night in." - Chris Thilk

Starbucks is smart to stop charging for Internet access. Everyone should follow suit.

2010-06-16T10:17:00.000-07:00

Whatever you think of its coffee, Starbucks has always been a nice place to get some work done. The stores are clean, the music inoffensive, the furniture comfortable, and the electrical outlets plentiful. And if you just need a quick pit stop to charge your phone, transfer photos to your laptop, or play a little Minesweeper, the Starbucks mermaid is always just around the corner, whether you're in Boston, Bangor or Beijing. Convenience has no borders.

Unless, of course, if you want to use the Internet. While local coffee shops have long offered free Wi-Fi, Starbucks signed up with a series of mobile providers over the years to gouge customers on Internet service. The company now offers free access for two hours, but only for customers who've recently purchased an item using a Starbucks card. Additional hours sell at the eye-burning rate of $3.99, a price that would lead you to believe that Starbucks is using some kind of next-generation fiber-optic network built from recycled coffee grounds. In fact, the company gets DSL services through AT&T. Like their coffee, a huge chunk of that $4-an-hour is pure profit.

But Starbucks has finally seen the light. On Monday, CEO Howard Schultz announced that beginning July 1, customers at all "company-owned stores" in the United States will get free unlimited Wi-Fi service with a single click—no complicated sign-up process, and no purchase necessary.

("Company-owned stores" exempts locations in supermarkets, hotels, bookstores, and other crannies of American commerce.) Starting this fall, customers surfing Starbucks' network will also get free access to paid Web content, including the Wall Street Journal, Zagat and select downloads from iTunes. The company hopes that its Web efforts will continue a recent revitalization of its stores—Starbucks was hit hard during the recession, but sales began to increase earlier this year.

Starbucks is certainly late to the free Wi-Fi game. McDonald's, among other rivals, began offering no-charge Wi-Fi this year.* Still, compared to other service businesses, Starbucks looks prescient. The world's upmarket hotels, for instance, still charge $10 to $20 a day for the Internet, the closest you can come to seeing poor creatures getting fleeced without visiting a sheep farm. Here's hoping Starbucks' plan prompts radical change in the tourism and hospitality industries. Per-hour Wi-Fi is a dying business. The sooner that hotels, airports, convention centers, and other similar places realize this, the happier they'll make their customers.

The case against charging for Wi-Fi is partly technological: Thanks to smartphones and other cellular gadgets, a lot of us don't need to pay up anymore. Phones capable of Wi-Fi "tethering"—which allow you to get Internet access for your laptop through your cell plan—are becoming more numerous; there are several ways to turn on free tethering in your Android phone, and Verizon offers it at no additional cost on the Palm Pre. (AT&T charges a ridiculous $20 a month for iPhone tethering.)

People whose phones can't tether are buying devices like the Mi-Fi—mobile Wi-Fi hotspots that allow your computer to take advantage of cellular networks. These services are relatively pricey—Verizon's Mi-Fi plans start at $40 a month—but for frequent travelers (who make up the bulk of the business at many hotel chains), these devices are much cheaper and more convenient than paying for Wi-Fi at airports and hotels. If you spend just four days a month on the road, it's wise to get a Mi-Fi. And if you've got a smartphone, you obviously don't need to tether if you just want a small taste of the Internet. I used to have to pay for hotel Wi-Fi just to watch for urgent e-mail and find local restaurants; now I can do all that for no extra charge on my phone.

Thanks to the smartphone war between Apple, Google, RIM, Microsoft, and Palm, we're bound to see rates for these cellular plans fall, and smartphone adoption rates are skyrocketing. In the same way that you'd be a fool to make a long-distance call on your hotel phone, soon almost no one will need to pay for hotel Wi-Fi. The revenue well is drying up. The smartest hotels are coming around to this view. Many mid- and low-budget chains—including Best Western, Comfort Inn, and Holiday Inn—have recently switched to free Wi-Fi. It's the pricey places that continue to charge—you can get free Wi-Fi at the Ramada, but not at the Ritz.

Perhaps the theory is that people ponying up $500 for a room aren't going to budge at paying $10 for the Web. Maybe. But if you're not charging them for them extra for the soap or the toilet paper, why nickel-and-dime the Internet? Although there are no firm numbers on how much it costs hotels to provide Wi-Fi, it's likely no more than a dollar per room per night (and probably far less, considering the speed you usually get when you do pay; if you'd like to relive the joys of the dial-up Internet, visit your nearest fancy hotel's "business center.")

I expect some readers will attack me as a hippie freeloader looking for a Wi-Fi handout. You'll also point out that even if providing the network is cheap, there may be other costs associated with giving away Internet access. Local coffee shops have long lamented the problem of Wi-Fi-induced lethargy—there seems to be no better way to keep a nonpaying patron in the store than to give him endless electricity and Internet access. The Wall Street Journal reported last year that some mom-and-pop shops have begun blocking their wall plugs or prohibiting laptops during certain hours in order to discourage Internet moochers.

But the evidence for this trend appears thin. Other coffee shops report that Wi-Fi has been a draw, a way to market an establishment as friendly and welcoming compared to the Wi-Fi-crippled Starbucks. And the coffee behemoth says it doesn't expect to be overrun by Wi-Fi leeches. Currently laptop users spend an average of 60 minutes on Starbucks network, and smartphone users spend 15 minutes, a rep told me; the company doesn't expect those numbers to rise substantially when it rolls out its new plan.

And when it does, the hotels will really feel the pinch. Why buy Wi-Fi in your room when you can get it with your latte in the morning? Or, heck, skip the latte. The Internet is free. - Farhad Manjoo

Does disappointing summer box office have studios considering (GASP) original material?

2010-06-15T17:48:00.000-07:00

In answer to the question posed in the headline, all I can manage is “maybe, but I wouldn’t bet anything important that the system will change.”

Box office returns are off this summer. Attendance is down 13% from last year, and even with 3D inflation pumping up a few films, overall revenue is off 7.5%. (And those numbers will probably get worse for June, thanks to the World Cup.)

So studio execs, who would like to keep their jobs, are starting to get uneasy. According to a couple reports, they’re actually uneasy enough to consider abandoning the recent reliance on sequels, proven properties and bullshit board game adaptations. Without material like that to provide movie stories, what will studios mine as raw material? Supposedly, they might actually go for original material. Should you believe it?

Vulture and Deadline are both running pieces reporting the execs from Paramount, Universal, Fox and Warner Bros. have been making frantic calls to agencies like CAA and WME, hoping to meet with agents in order to, in the words of one agency source that talked to Vulture, “Get us the original material. We need some original shit, because now our bosses are on us.”

Deadline runs a quote from one ‘major producer,’ who says,

…this sluggish summer might be a blessing in disguise for talent and producers who want to take risks but have been hamstrung for the past two years by studios that have been operating in retreat mode, and looking for the safest bets possible. The lack of originality this summer might get off this safe track and in the mindset to take some risks again, and that would be a good thing.

One of Vulture’s sources, JC Spink of the management and production company Benderspink, says more concisely,

People are feeling marketed to, as opposed to catered to…I think we’ve all gone a little bit overboard as an industry. There hasn’t been room for original material for a little while now. It’s a shame, because I don’t think it’s what anyone [who works in the business] came out here for.

(Spink was an executive producer on The Hangover. This comes, appropriately, just as CNN reports that The Hangover, a film that isn’t a license, a sequel, or a TV update, has become the most-ordered title On Demand. Actually, of the top five On Demand films only one, Twilight, sitting at #2, is an adaptation or part of a franchise.)

So that all sounds promising and ducky, and I don’t buy it for a second. Why? Because I have faith only that agents will make what seems like the best business decision and execs will make the easiest decision. This is promising on the front end, but don’t for a moment be fooled that, even if some miraculous agency/studio ‘creative confab’ bears any fruit, it means we’ll get good original movies.

Who do you think packages many of the dull, derivative big-ticket movies that have bored us all this year? Agencies and management companies. And there is no shortage of high-concept crap scripts out there just waiting for a convincing agent to foist upon a studio exec desperate to keep his job.

Beyond the talent packages that lead to big studio films, there’s another big problem that has to be addressed. The conservative and often ego-confused creative mindset at studios creates bad movies.

Could Clash of the Titans or Prince of Persia or Robin Hood have been good movies? Sure. If the first Pirates of the Caribbean can still stand as a fun, respectable summer adventure, those movies could also have turned into something worth your two hours and ten bucks. CAA could send a lost ark of original scripts printed on solid gold pages to Fox, but if the studio makes them the same way they make so many other movies, the results are still likely to stink.

And, just to leaven the pessimism a little bit, consider that this is just talking about big studio movies. There are quite a few wonderful small and indie films playing this summer — if you’re not exploring your indie and arthouse theaters you’re missing out on some great stuff. - Russ Fischer (/Film)

Are Today's Stars Easily Replaceable?

2010-06-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

Just because you have a famous face, doesn't mean you're not expendable. An article on Jam Showbiz points out the growing trend of high profile replacements. Of course, there's Megan Fox's removal from the Transformers franchise and the Terrence Howard/Don Cheadle swap in Iron Man 2. Then there's the buzz that Kellan Lutz and Ashley Greene took things to the brink with salary demands for the Breaking Dawn films. They managed to hold on unlike the original Victoria, Rachelle Lefevre who lost her role to Bryce Dallas Howard in Eclipse. When the news of their ousting first hit the web you may have experienced distress, disappointment or perhaps just concern for the character's sake, but after the initial blow, did you ever think twice about it?

Take a look at Howard's situation. Whether it was really all about the money or not, Howard's chance to put on the War Machine suit was snatched away by Cheadle. Both are fine actors, but it's hard to let go of the guy you met in the first film, right? Wrong. When the news first arrived back in October of 2008, it came as a shock. Was there anything any movie fan could do about it? No. Was Cheadle at least a top-notch replacement? Yes. When the time finally came for Iron Man to return to theaters, I doubt most recalled the original Jim Rhodes and, if they did, it didn't make them enjoy the film any more or any less.

This provides a perfect taste of what's to come in Transformers and Eclipse's case. Fox and Lefevre are memorable faces, but certainly not irreplaceable ones. As Jam Showbiz points out, the stars of Transformers are the robots, not Shia LaBeouf. The loss of the Autobots and Decepticons would be a devastating blow, but there are a bunch of curly-haired cuties who can pick up where LaBeouf left off. The same goes for The Twilight Saga. Supporting cast members are able to reap the benefits of the franchise's success, but it's the main players -- Robert Pattinson, Kristen Stewart and Taylor Lautner -- that hold it together.

On the other hand, the situation with the Spider-Man franchise can demolish even the biggest star's assurance. There's no reason to think that dropping Tobey Maguire and starting over would have a higher chance for success than bringing the original team back and just focusing on making film four as high quality as the first and second. So is anyone safe? How would you feel if we lost one of the boys in The Hangover in round two? If they were all replaced, probably enraged, but if Justin Bartha slid his way out and maybe Chris Pine took his spot, it'd be like getting a shot; you feel a nice jab, but within a few moments it's like nothing ever happened.

However, Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis and all other series headliners have to be on alert because there's no denying that this reboot craze has the power to slide their long term deals right out from under them. The Hangover: The College Years, I can see it now. It's only been three years since the last Spider-Man film and the suits are ready to wipe the slate clean and start over. For all we know Iron Man will stop dead in its tracks and we'll have Iron Man Jr. or some nonsense coming our way. Not that the Scream vets were expecting to take the franchise beyond film three, but at least Wes Craven is giving them a proper sendoff in the new installment after which we'll be expected to latch on to the fresh faces.

It's a scary thought, but whether it's for financial reasons, personal issues or bad attitudes, everyone's disposable regardless of how famous your face is. Not everyone is as lucky as those Harry Potter kids to make it to the end of an eight-film series. Some just have to enjoy it while it lasts. - Perri Nemiroff via Cinematical

Sony 3D Promos At-Home 3D: At Expense of Theater Experience?

2010-06-12T10:09:00.000-07:00

“I refuse to say the sky is falling,” declared Sony chairman Amy Pascal, when I asked her about the grim summer box office so far. She was observing the Sony 3D show-and-tell Wednesday on the Sony lot. Clearly, not only is the studio earmarking a number of 3D features for 2010 and beyond—including Resident Evil Afterlife in 2011 and Spider-Man 4 and Men in Black III for 2012 (Will Smith putting on his shades takes on a new meaning), but the entire corporation is moving aggressively into the 3D space both at home (PS3, 3D games, Bravia HD 3D televisions, Blu-Ray 3D devices) and in theaters (see videos below and Sony News).

Sony America CEO Sir Howard Stringer hosted the event on the old MGM studio’s Stage 8, as the press corps sat on white vinyl sofas and donned their 3-D glasses. “Creation, distribution and display,” are Sony’s catch-words as they hawk their content, games, and stereoscopic equipment. “We’re blazing a trail in every part of the 3D universe,” said Stringer, who also praised Sony’s 3D technology center which aims to educate and inform filmmakers on the best use of 3D tools. Stringer stressed that Sony was pushing “high quality,” “immersive” 3D. Not that “jarring,” “mediocre” after-the-fact stuff. (They did the honors on Alice in Wonderland.) Sony plans to spend $100 million marketing this 3D effort, with 6000 retail displays reaching 200,000 consumers; they will also hit social media. A 3D Playstation games and sports spot featuring Peyton Manning and Justin Timberlake will air during World Cup matches.

And Sony Imageworks has been playing in the digital visual effects playpen for some time, from Bob Zemeckis’s Polar Express to Monster House. On the hardware side, Sony cameras and 4K projectors are shooting and displaying 3D images. The SXRD 4K projector is on 2000 screens now in North America; they eventually expect 11,000. As HD TVs continue rolling out, the Bravia 3D TV will be available in Sony Style stores and online for $2000 for a 40-inch and $3000 for a 60 inch set. It includes a transmitter and two pairs of glasses.

While it’s no surprise that Sony is selling Bravia 3D televisions (will people want to wear the active shutter glasses?). immersive 3D games for the PlayStation 3 or making more 3D movies, I was blown away by the quality of the sports imagery they’re going to show on ESPN 3D, which launches with the World Cup Mexico South Africa soccer match on Friday at 6:30 AM PT, which thanks to ATT, Direct TV and Comcast will have 40 million available subscribers at launch.

While skateboarding, basketball and baseball looked great, I was especially taken with the golf—you felt like you were there on the green, with birds singing, the hushed crowd, Phil Mikkelson rolling his hole in one, right atcha. Sony also announced Discovery Channel CEO Tom Cosgrove as new president and CEO of the new 3D Channel combine from Discovery, Sony and IMAX, the first 24/7 3D channel. Sure enough, they showed us stunning Discovery 3D ocean shots of eels swimming into the frame, schools of fish, floating sea horses, leaping dolphins and close-up shark snouts. The car racing and concert footage was also impressive.

And Sony Pictures Chairman Michael Lynton announced that animated Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs will be the studio’s first 3D Blu-Ray, released June 22. Lynton expects 30 or more 3D pics industrywide in 2011 to be shown on some 14,000 screens—and more like 23,000 screens by 2012. Sony promises that what PS3 did for Blu-Ray, it will now do for 3D, because PS3 users are early adopters and voracious technophiles. Folks who buy the Bravia 3D TV will get vouchers for stereoscopic 3D games.

As guys settled into sofas on adjoining Stage 7 to try out 3D games, it hit me that this is the last thing the movie business needs: immersive 3D games and home entertainment on fancy screens on top of all the other competition for viewer attention. Big 3D event movies were keeping Hollywood rolling in green—and they’re all banking on more 3D. The Sony demo made me want to go home to my PS3: it streams music, plays Blu-Rays, downloads TV and movies (via Netflix streaming), and will now play 20 stereoscopic games such as Super Stardust—not to mention 3D Motion Control for the Playstation Move. No question Sony will own the 3D space. But are pokey old movie theaters going to be left behind? - Anne Thompson

Penelope Cruz is Sexier in Spanish

2010-05-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

Abre Los Ojos (1997) was beautifully constructed. Imaginative and new and what good films are made of. It made you think and the best films always do. So when they decided to remake it in english as Vanilla Sky (2001) it made all the sense in the world. Most of the american audience would have never seen the spanish marvel. It tapped into the specific market. More so it used some of the greatest A list talent out there paired with an impeccable budget, to recreate perhaps what would have originally been the case if the budget was right.

Someone watching Vanilla Sky might think that is was well made with all the bells and whistles of the original. It leaves a mark on you. It conveys the concept of Abre Los Ojos very well. Though it's only when you watch the Vanilla Sky without the original. Because once you see the original you would have to think a few more times before accepting the reinvention.

First and foremost. Tom Cruise to replace Eduardo Noriega. Tom cruise with well, frankly, obnoxious quirks that scream crazy put in a role where he is supposed to be crazy. Doesn't work as well. He seems like he is insane and not someone who is suffering an intense loss of reality. Eduardo in his character is fighting to regain reality while Tom is merely creating the psychosis that his character is. It's the difference between believing you're crazy and actually being it. Because when someone has a real loss of reality, they believe themselves to be perfectly sane. Eduardo conveys that feeling that the world around him is crazy very well. While Tom suffers more self doubt of sanity.

The choice of Cameron Diaz was actually a good one. Since from the start there is something insane about her. It seems like there is something wrong and when the audience realizes that she is insane it all comes together quite well. She has the quirked laughs that Tom has but for her it makes sense. She is not the main character and her insanity should be foreshadowed. She does an amazing job at the character, perhaps even a bit more so than the original.

The other choice is not really a choice at all. Penelope Cruz plays the same role. In a serious film with such depth it wasn't the right choice. She is an amazing actress but mostly when she is speaking spanish. Her accent and uneasiness with english make her a sub par actress, and in a film this intense that doesn't work as well. She was breath taking in Abre Los Ojos but in Vanilla Sky there is a dis-genuiness to her character. There is a certain subtle nuance that she loses when she tries to talk in english.

Then there are the many character explanations and studies added that may make this a big budget film but don't make it better. Sofia was a million times better as a mime and an actress that pretends, then as a dancer. Doesn't fit the character quite as well. The extra lines added into scenes just fill up empty silences that were so much more powerful when Abre Los Ojos played. The character of the friend was ill adapted in this version. There seems to be too much glamour like the appearance of Steven Spilberg which is extremely unnecessary.

The original captured a certain truth, reality that the re make lost in its pursuit for glamour and blockbuster status. However it is hard to say that Vanilla Sky wasn't a great film. It's only in comparison that one can realize its shortcoming. The original idea was perfect enough that it you don't completely lose the beauty unless its horribly reenacting. They both play out well but the originality and the reality of the first one doesn't transfer. To most this might be a negligible difference but to those of us gearing to understand film better, it might be the difference between hitting the bullseye or coming kinda close.

Making "Pork Chop Night" - (Part 1: Production)

2010-05-08T16:47:00.000-07:00

Let’s have a little discussion about Production; is there a standard way to make a film? The answer is an overwhelming NO.

On May 1^st and 2^nd I shot my short film “Pork Chop Night”. I wrote and directed it (I haven’t shot anything of my own in almost 4 years) and through Kickstarter I was able to raise $1,000 to fund it. The script was 18 pages. We shot it in just two days- two 8 hour days (not full days by traditional industry timelines). In those two days I was able to get all the shots I wanted and then some, I was able to get the performances I wanted from my actors and then some, I got some gorgeous lighting and sound…

18 pages… 2 days…

The more common belief is 4 to 5 pages a day when making a film. And sometimes, depending on the production, that is the case. Location moves can take up to whole hours away from your day; depending on the amount of gear, you’re looking at an average of maybe half an hour to break down the gear and pack it, up to half an hour to move, and another ten to fifteen minutes to load into the new location and another half hour to set up (again, depending on your gear). I had one location for Pork Chop Night. My crew was incredible; all people I’ve worked with before. They’re very professional, very experienced and were more committed to getting me the shots I wanted than I was expecting. I was worried about aggravating them to move a set up because of our tight time constraints (our lead actor, Phil Berry, was in a play an hour away), but they were more than willing to take the time to get the shots I wanted and to make them look good, and thanks to my incredible Gaffer, Brandon Meadows, they look great. The boy can light a set like I’ve never seen and he’s not willing to settle for “good enough”. The last thing I wanted was even the slightest shred of anger, frustration or aggravation on set, because that spreads like a virus- faster than a virus, and you’ll never really get the top quality you’re looking for, so I tried to make the set as lax (yet professional) as possible, I think we achieved that and also had some fun. Long story short; I like working with these guys, they like working each other, I want to do it for every production, and most importantly, we actually have fun together.

All funding went to paying crew and data storage, that’s it.

I had a very small crew:

1 x DP – Mikel Wisler (also my editor)

1 x 2^nd Camera/1^st AC – Bryant Naro (not part of my original plan, but a great bonus)

1 x Gaffer – Brando Meadows (If you don’t hire this man, you’re a fool)

1 x G&E Swing – Brian O’Connor

2 x Sound Crew (Boom and recordist) Mike Lamantia, Jr. & Frank Raposo

1 x Part Time Still Photographer – Diane St. Laurent (who also provided the food)

So that’s a crew of 7 people.

What I didn’t have:

An AD

A 2^nd AD

A Production Manager

A Script Supervisor

Production Assistants

A Production Designer (although Robert Jachim gave his opinion on my art direction, as well as some amazing Storyboards done by Tara Howe)

Did I need these missing crew members? Not really. It would have been great to have them, but the Production suffered no loss in their absence.

As for my actors:

Phil Berry

Jen Arvay-Kefalas

Tyler Scotti

James McCoy

Charles Lafond

THE ACTORS

The actors gave me the performances I needed. My method for directing actors has changed over the years and definitely varies project to project. For this short, I gave them the background they needed to understand their actions, but allowed them to develop their own personalities. I’m a minimalist in that regard; I will rarely tell them what I want, but I will definitely, always tell them what I DON’T want. I believe that’s the best way to allow them to develop themselves for this project. If what they gave me didn’t work or didn’t fit, we did another take and by telling them what I thought didn’t work, they were able to portray what I was looking for; even going beyond.

Tyler and James, the child actors, were much more intuitive than I was expecting. I had only one problem; James (who was also a backup for another child actor) would often look at the camera, so we did the most takes with him more than any other actor, but I was able to get what I needed from him and then some. He had what I can only describe as “a reserved and thoughtful cuteness” that was inescapable. So much so that he couldn’t turn it off, and that only became an issue in one scene where I had originally hoped to have him be a bit “meaner” However, thanks to the quick wit of Jen, she was able to work his cuteness into the scene and it actually came off as more organic and natural than I had originally written.

Tyler had an incredible energy and was anything but camera shy. He hit every note right on and memorized his lines with incredible ease. He and James were the perfect “Good Cop, Bad Cop” pair of brothers and had wonderful chemistry together.

Phil and Jen also had a great chemistry. Due to Jen not being local, this was the first time they had actually been in the same room; they really had no rehearsal and after the first scene they had together, you’d be hard pressed to tell. Phil has a natural temperance that I was extremely happy to see and lucky he possessed; it gave him a natural connection to his character; a husband and father with a secret he was ashamed of, but should really have been anything but. When he needed that temperance, he had it full on, when he needed to turn the energy on to be on the offense, he had that hidden under his welcoming smile. He gave me a performance I had hoped for and definitely one I was not expecting; I couldn’t be happier. Phil also gave us one of the most memorable bloopers I think I’ve ever seen, so I’ll try and put that up on YouTube and Facebook as soon as possible.

Jen, I had worked with before. I knew what to expect, I knew what I was getting and I also knew she could do things I wouldn’t expect. She was never once shy to express her opinions, which I always welcome (and prefer) and, like Phil, would always hit the note we were looking for. She had a naturalism that allowed for Phil to play off of very well. Both actors wanted to give me more than one style of delivery, whether to flex their own muscles or to test my limits, and I couldn’t be happier.

Also, a special mention to Chuck Lafond for just being Chuck, which is all he needed to be for the role he literally “phoned in”.

THE CREW & THE SHOTS

I can’t really talk about the crew and the shots without referencing the other. I have nothing more than praise for my crew. I had worked with all of them before and they get better all the time.

Lets start with the camera. Mikel Wisler had recently purchased a Canon t2i, which he shot one short film with before “Pork Chop Night”. He was initially supposed to be the only camera, but through Brandon Meadows, we also welcomed Bryant Naro to set with his Canon 7D. (Both the t2i and 7D are the new video DSLRs) Naro had been doing a lot of test shooting with his camera and was very, very eager to actually shoot a project on it so he was more than happy to drive down from New Hampshire and help us out.

Both Mikel and Naro knew those cameras in and out, and sweet lord, it showed. We moved from sticks to handheld so frequently that their setups were less than a minute, their focus pulls were possibly record breaking and their ideas were always taken and put into place, I don’t think I ever said “No” more than once, and that one instance was simply because of a matter of time. Their handheld work is really something else. Most of the shots were on sticks and handheld. We had 1 jib shot and 2 dolly shots, although I had originally planned three, my lack of any cohesive shot list made me forget about it, however, we actually filmed the same scene in a different and simpler, more straightforward way, and I actually like that better.

However, the beauty of these shots were not simply camera, but also lighting. [I’ll admit that I actually have a handicap as a filmmaker; I’m colorblind (although I’ve always felt it should be called Color Confused)- I do horrible with flesh tones & shades, and I’m absolutely blind when it comes to color temperature (unless its extreme).]

Brandon and Brian were a great team, and as I said before, Brandon can light a set like no one I’ve ever worked with and with time to spare. We were somewhat limited with our equipment, but honestly, you’d never be able to tell. Brandon is quite receptive and was able to interpret my sometimes inarticulate desires for shots. Well, actually, let’s not be that self deprecating, as the clock ticked closer to Phil’s departure time, I became less descriptive in what I wanted, but again, Brandon could easily tell what I wanted, which was really nothing complex. He could also communicate with Mikel and Naro very well. They merged into an unbeatable camera department, the T-1000 of camera departments.

For sound we used a boom. Originally I wanted to use lavs as well, but after talking with Mikel and Mike, we decided against it for mostly practical reasons. Rather than go on and on about how great a job Mike and Frank did, I’ll keep it simple, perhaps the most simple and descriptive compliment when it comes to Sound in a film; it didn’t suck. Audiences of all types can follow just about any kind of cinematography and camera work, but they really can’t forgive bad sound, and I don’t blame them; I’m with them 100 percent. Nothing says amateur more than bad sound. Nothing. My biggest fear on anything I work on is sound. Especially in New England. Outside of Boston, good sound is hard to find. The experienced crew pool is quite small, but there was no chance in Hell I’d risk bad sound, so I scoured the North East looking for good sound and found it in Mike and Frank. We have yet to edit the film, so I can’t speak to the final product, but the mix I heard on set was music to my ears and one could easily pick up ambient sounds that should be more than easy to fix. So again; the sound didn’t suck!

Also, a special thanks goes out to Diane St. Laurent and Steve Lisi for providing food and taking some stills. I would have done the food myself if they hadn’t volunteered, and that would have taken some time.

WHAT I WANTED TO ACHIEVE

My initial motivation for shooting this short was simple; its been almost 4 years since I shot something of my own, I’ve been a work-for-hire on everyone else’s projects for so long now and I was going absolutely nuts. I needed to recharge my batteries and shoot something, and soon, or I might have started to slide and get complacent, and we can’t have that, no sir.

The plot is relatively simple; a husband is hiding something from his wife, and while she tries to get it out of him, the kids are left unsupervised with the house to themselves. The kids and adults go through a role reversal. I missed working with actors, so I wanted to shoot something with some dialogue. This short isn’t anything experimental (don’t worry, I’ll do some crazy experimental stuff soon, believe me) and I wasn’t pushing any boundaries. I wanted to give audiences something they can relate to, something simple with simple humor and some beautifully composed shot. I wasn’t trying to say anything more than wanting people to think about how they talk to each other and how much time they put into what other people might think about what they think about. There’s nothing dark in this Short, nothing demanding, I’m not asking much from my audience other than their attention and appreciation for our work. We want to take this to festivals and get it to the right audiences, not EVERY audience, but the right ones; the ones who, again, appreciate the little things and would like a good chuckle at the antics kids can go through when unsupervised.

I couldn’t be happier with the shots we got, the work we did and the team we had. I look forward to having all of you see it.

Wait That Rabbit… Was it in His Hat The Entire Time?

2010-05-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

Magic can neither be created nor destroyed. True or False? False. Magic can always be created and destroyed. Magic is illusion and when the curtain subsides and the reality is revealed, the magic loses it's power. It falters and becomes something less than even normal. The first time you see the sham behind the curtains, you feel a loss. A loss of your imagination, of perhaps something greater than you. It's shattering, its akin to the loss of childhood, of the carefree subreality that we search for long after we are all grown up.

Films are magic. There are explosions and beautiful moment encoded in one another to create this surreal life that can only be measured in magical terms. No matter how realistic a film is there's always something magical about it. At least the good ones. There are extravagant battle scenes and rainstorms that you might have never seen. Things that you may have once imagined as a child. Good films have enough realism to fool the adults into believing in the magic that they create.

Superhero films and fantastical films in the recent years have exceeded every budget limitation that one can think of. How is it that they get away with it? You can have a scene with lightning and no rain to signify a storm, or you can have both. Why would a studio waste money to go for both. Well, simple, it creates another world, adds another dimension. It's like asking why the magician pulls out a row of handkerchiefs instead of maybe a dozen. It enhances the illusion. It hides the magician better. And it gives life a tint of surrealism.

No one needs to know the grueling hours of work on a set, or the countless retakes. As long as there is that one perfect take that will get the right emotional reaction out of the audience. To capture that perfect moment when everything comes together and ignites on screen. That is the illusion of film. It's breathtakingly magical, in a way life most of the time falters. There are unimaginable amount of people and illusions being perpetrated during filming and post so the audience may experience it without a single hiccup.

So next time you go to the movies and do the film world a favor. Just breathe in and breathe out all your knowledge of film making and behind the scenes. Enjoy the illusion for what it is and the film making community would be grateful to you for your participation in the act.

Kicking Ass? (Part 2)

2010-04-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Kick-Ass barely won the box office crown in a photo finish with How to Train Your Dragon. Since then, people have been throwing a lot of numbers around about how profitable the film will actually end up being. In the past, Millar has been quoted as saying that Vaughn raised around $70 million to make Kick-Ass. In my recent interview with him, the number he used was $40 million. On the flip side, when Lionsgate acquired Kick-Ass last summer, Variety cited speculation that the deal was worth around $45 million. A recent LATimes article stated that Lionsgate “paid $15 million for distribution rights to the independently financed film,” and “spent a little less than $30 million on advertising and prints.” Lionsgate will end up keeping half the gross, while the rest stays with movie exhibitors.

According to MTV, Millar thinks the film is doing just fine. The film costs “$28 million after the U.K. tax breaks, and our U.K. and U.S. gross alone is already at $38 million as of last night.” Millar noted, “We were top Friday, Saturday and Sunday — which is amazing, considering we’re in the middle of a holiday season and up against 3-D competition with an R-rated superhero movie.”

He continued:

We’re looking at a very nice profit here and word of mouth is spectacular — the reviews being among the best I’ve ever seen — and so we’re all very proud to find ourselves in this position. Positive advance reviews had some people hoping for a $25 million domestic opening. I wanted ‘Avatar’ numbers myself, but as Matthew sensibly pointed out, we were made on a Tarantino budget and should be more than happy with Tarantino numbers.

There’s a lot of insight in the Tarantino comparison. The budgets of Kick-Ass and Tarantino films are similar, and they both cater to pretty specific geek niches. While Inglorious Basterds had the benefit of Brad Pitt’s face to plaster all over its marketing materials, Kill Bill Vol. 1 only grossed $22 million on its opening weekend, a number very comparable to Kick-Ass.

I’m still not sure how this shakes out for Lionsgate, but it seems like Matthew Vaughn and Millar will do just fine. The film will be profitable, just not a monster hit as some in the online community had hoped. Unfortunately, with the box office juggernaut of Iron Man 2 rapidly approaching, it’s not looking good for a Kick-Ass sequel.

Kicking Ass?

2010-04-19T21:18:00.000-07:00

Earlier today Cinematical.com asked if Kick Ass was a success or failure. Before we actually answer that question (with a question), let's look at what Cinematical posted:

As you've already seen, Kick-Ass didn't exactly set fire to the box office the way many of its superhero predecessors have. It barely opened at #1 with $19.8 million, which isn't too shabby, but it's hardly the epic, groundbreaking blockbuster some may have expected.

But was it truly a failure? Kick-Ass was financed out of Matthew Vaughn's own pockets (studios refused to touch it due to content), and was made for a budget of approximately $30 million. It's now made $37 million worldwide. It will make its marketing budget back, and then some. For an indie film based on a creator-owned comic (and one without a major fanbase or instant character recognition), that may be considered a major success.

Yet Kick-Ass didn't take the world by storm, as expected by the online buzz and hype. (Remember, Kick-Ass was supposed to kill superhero movies as of a couple of weeks ago.) It scored a 77% on Rotten Tomatoes, it's been at the center of controversy, and it's been the subject of countless articles, but it couldn't scare up a more enthusiastic response at the box office. Remember, audiences will supposedly eat up anything to do with superheroes and comic books, yet Kick-Ass can't make it past the $20 million mark. It's not unlike the lukewarm response to Watchmen, which suggests audiences will only eat up the superheroes they recognize and love.

So what can we take away from this? Lets ask one question first: Was this a truly independent film? Vaughn financed it himself, not a studio, so I would say that yes, it was; albeit a high budget one with Nicolas Cage. However, it wasn't self distributed, so some would argue that its not truly independent in that sense, but you know what? A studio didn't finance it, so the production was independent indeed.

This brings me to my bigger question- THE question: Can you call something a success or failure from just its opening weekend? Isn't something a success if it makes its money back and more over time; especially if the film is actually good? (I have yet to see Kick Ass)

Success and Failure are two ends of a spectrum that changes from person to person; eye of the beholder, etc. In this instance it seems that Hollywood is doing the beholding. To Hollywood, opening weekend is still the be all, end all, of success (how easily they forget DVD still has yet to come until its time for them to put it on DVD, then the debate starts all over again).

What about films that have weak starts and gain more and more success through word of mouth; films like Once, Juno, Bubba Ho-Tep, etc? Ah, because those were considered to be "more independent" by the mainstream media (though Juno is again debatable in some circles). If a film like Once (made for a "tiny" budget of 175k) made 20 million its opening weekend, it would become a real success story and would be used as a vantage point for indie success like Paranormal Activity or Little Miss Sunshine (which seem to be the only two "independent films" in mainstream America's vernacular).

I'm just going to be honest here and give a piece of advice to my fellow indie filmmakers; frak this system. This is a horrible grading system when it comes to our work. MY idea of successful filmmaking is that of being a successful artist; not millions, but being able to continue working and supporting myself as an artist. If you're really in it for the money- please, just get out. Yes, I know there is the potential for a lot of money to be made in this industry, and maybe you might even get to have some of it (and all the more power to you), but if you successfully make an indie film from start to finish; as in you hired a cast and crew, fed them, PAID them, shot the film, edited the film and its good, consider yourself a success. I know this may be preaching to the choir, but... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO MAKE A FILM? Even just one with a budget of 5k? If you're able to make your money back and profit from that same film, consider yourself an even greater success.

Listen, I understand that this model is pretty much all that people pay attention to, but please, don't burden yourself with trying to form a project to conform to it; if you do you'll only drive yourself crazy. Admit to yourself that there's a chance your film may only have a niche audience and be OKAY with that. There are so many wonderful and beautiful films out there that you haven't even heard of that are some top quality, amazing things; or even just plain, good fun- a film that doesn't SUCK. I come across films like this all the time, and a lot of the time not only are they made for little money, but they've already made it back or are on their way to. The right media outlets are covering them.

So ask yourself this question: how much money do you really need to be satisfied?

No, seriously, ask yourself THIS question(s); if YOU made Kick-Ass and you made your money back, wouldn't you be happy? Wouldn't you consider that to be a success? Would you care what anyone thought about your box office (as opposed to your ART) if you considered it be successful; if it had fans; a following?

How films are better than your life

2010-04-19T18:11:00.000-07:00

So one day chances of chances happen and as you stand sipping your glass of champagne your eyes meet with a beautiful girl. Was she beautiful, or was she beautiful. You talk to her and you hit it off, you're in heaven now. Great. Now years later you find yourself still with her and your love has flourished quite a bit since that first time. You tell the story over and over again, and every time you get the 'Awwwws' and the 'thats so cuuutes'. The most romantic thing that could have happened. Sounds like the plot of quite a few romantic films out there. Life imitates art imitates life. So you being the romantic you are, tell this story always leaving out the few significant details.

First and foremost the first time you met her, while thinking she was beautiful you were actually eyeing her friend for a good part of the night. She doesn't need to know that. And than when you walked up to her, you were nervous and your words slurred. Did she notice that. Probably did. Yet, she was probably nervous as well. So yes everything went haywire in just the right way. You ended up together and her friend that you liked for months afterwards ended up fading away in your memory as she bought out more and more real estate.

Cut to:

A film with the same premise:
Andy a young lad from Philadelphia meets Adriana, the love of his life. He swoops in and tells her that her eyes remind him of the stars and the places beyond. Romance is in the air. They see no one but one another. They fall into each others arms, and it's like they have fallen in love for the first time. They belong together and you know it as soon as you look at them. It's beautiful and perfect. He doesn't like her friend more. He doesn't think of anyone else. By the same token she never thought about her exes or anyone like that. They constantly think about how much they love one another.

In the hustle bustle of the film world we often forget why we watch films to begin with, and what are films for that matter. What are they? Are they mere depictions of reality? Are they more? Are they obscure and unreal? Films lie and make things look magical?

If you think I was going to make the point for escapism, you are wrong. Yes films help you escape into another world. That is a fact of a good film. But a great film is where you don't escape to another world, rather you escape to a version of yourself that you might have not experienced for a little bit or never fully experience at a similar level as the couple in the film. A great film forces you to relive the most treacherous and the most beautiful aspects of your past. So no, its not necessarily escapism that we create with the film scenario being perfect. Not at all. It is a version of your own life story as best you can remember it.

You pop in the film in your high tech blue ray player. You see these two people unite on a beautiful eve. You are not wishing that you were them. No you think you are them. Why is that? Well that could be attributed to this beautiful thing called human memory. After a while you only remember certain aspects of the situation when you recall it. There might have been those moments where you didn't want her and a million other things, but you don't focus on that. You focus on the beauty of your unison and how she was meant to be yours, and you hers.

So the film didn't take you anywhere you hadn't been. It didn't even take you to a better version of your own story. It quoted the story as you most likely remember. And for those outside the picture, people that don't share your story, it showed them how you felt. No art can capture the wide array of human emotions and thoughts in any given moment let alone an extended period of time. So films capture the essence of your emotions at a given time. You look at the couple and you think about your current love or the one you have lost, and you know feel what the character is feeling. Or you see them feel what you have felt. Either way you have formed a bond that is significant and emotional enough to drive the following pathos.

Films are magical and they try to catch those butterflies that were mingling in your stomach when you met her. Or at least thats how you remember it. So the silver screen is not as imaginative as you might think. it captures human imagination and human emotions and at its best tries to find the perfect way to display it so you may feel that moment of pathos. Real life is not perfect but in retrospect everything looks so much different. Quoted with your fading memory for details, everything seems like a film.

In essence a good film captures those moments perfectly, as they should be captured. So if you hear a person say 'it's never like it's in the movies'. Yes, it is never like its in the movies. But after a while it becomes like that. And as a matter of face it might be like that to an outsider regardless. You might be more self conscious and think about the details that were uninteresting or boring, but to an outsider your story might be beautiful and romantic. Yes, you might not connect with every little instance of the film, but if you can somehow relate to what they are feeling on the screen at key moments, than the team of dedicated individuals behind the camera have done their job. So the magic of film is the magic of your life.

The age old saying: LIfe imitates art, imitates life.

Cinematical asks "Can Kickstarter Save the Indie Film Industry?"

2010-04-19T11:47:00.000-07:00

Over at Cinematical.com, contributor Eric Snider explores the magic of Kickstarter.

The other day, Erik Childress spotlighted an effort to gather enough small contributions to produce a special DVD edition of the documentary The Way We Get By. The project is being coordinated through Kickstarter, a year-old Brooklyn-based organization whose name has been popping up on the Internet a lot lately. Call me crazy -- go ahead, I'll wait -- but I think this could be the way of the future for independent filmmakers and other artists to get their projects funded.

It works like this. Let's say I need $5,000 to make my documentary about the life of Charles Nelson Reilly. I launch a Kickstarter campaign, ask for pledges, and set a deadline by which the $5,000 needs to be accumulated. People can donate as little or as much money as they want, using a credit card and Amazon's secure payment system. (Amazon and Kickstarter are buddies.) But here's the twist: The donors' credit cards aren't actually charged until the deadline arrives -- and even then only if we've reached $5,000 in pledges. If we haven't, nobody pays anything, and that's the end of it, except for my sadness over not being able to bring Mr. Nelson Reilly's life to the big screen.

You can see the advantages here. As a donor, you don't have to pay anything right now, and maybe not ever. That's appealing. If they don't get enough pledges to fund the project, you're off the hook, but you still get the good karma points for offering.

As a filmmaker, I'm able to gauge interest in my project without wasting anyone's money. Since it's an all-or-nothing system, I can find out if it's even possible to raise $5,000 without any risk. It's better than a regular "pledge" system, where people say, "Sure, I'll give you $50 on June 1!," and then change their minds when you come around to collect it. With Kickstarter, you provide your payment info when you pledge, and if the minimum is reached by the deadline, your credit card gets charged. (Kickstarter does give donors a way to cancel their pledges before the day of reckoning, in case you have a financial emergency, or you realize you got wasted one night and pledged money to a hundred different projects in a fit of drunken philanthropy.)

There are several hundred projects on Kickstarter right now, about 300 of them in the Film/Video category. Lots of documentaries. The minimum pledge is usually about $5. There are usually perks for donating, like the tote bag you get when you pledge to PBS. If you have $20 to throw around -- or, more to the point, if you'll have $20 to throw around when the deadline arrives! -- you could donate to a few different projects. You can search projects by keyword to look for topics that are particularly meaningful for you, or search for the name of your city to see if someone local needs help. If you really want to feel good about yourself, use the "Ending Soon" filter and find something whose deadline is fast approaching and only needs a little more money to make it. You could be the hero who puts it over the top! They'll sing folk songs about you!

A casual stroll through the projects shows that many of the films have already been shot and now need money for post-production. That's the case with Melvin, a feature by Austin-based Chris Ohlson, who has co-produced SXSW films like The Overbrook Brothers and Lovers of Hate. Or there's How Do You Write a Joe Schermann Song?, a movie musical that Gary King hopes to shoot this summer. The minimum pledge is a buck. A buck! Surely you have a dollar for Gary. Or The Guarani Project, a documentary that will bring attention to an aquifer in South America that could solve the world's water-shortage problems. (Full disclosure: One of the Kickstarter projects is The Adults in the Room, a narrative/documentary hybrid in which I appear, briefly, in one of the documentary scenes. I think the water movie might be a more worthy cause, though.)

Kickstarter is only for creative projects like movies, not "important" things like raising money for orphans or helping disaster victims. So, yeah, if you have to choose between helping somebody make a movie and donating to a humanitarian organization, I'd go with the latter. But many of us can afford to do both, especially when we're talking about $5 at a time. For a lot of these ambitious guys and gals, making a movie is their lifelong dream. Wouldn't it be kind of awesome to help them do it?

By the way, if anyone has a film-related Kickstarter success story to share, let us know! Kickstarter been around for a year, so I suspect we'll start seeing movies soon that were partially funded this way.- Eric Snider (link: http://www.cinematical.com/2010/04/17/can-kickstarter-save-the-indie-film-industry/)

On a personal note. I have had great success with Kickstarter, using it to fund a short film that I'll be shooting the first weekend of May. Its a great resource!

Red Band Trailers

2010-04-16T22:10:00.000-07:00

The best part of going to the movies are watching the trailers for some of the upcoming films that we want to throw down our money for in order to just escape from our mundane lives for a bit with a little action, romance, comedy or all of the above. But what happens when trailers are given the opportunity to be able to entice the viewer with some of the more "adult" scenes from the movie?

Red band trailers have seemed to be the staple for marketing in the past years in order to sell a movie, I remember first seeing this when "Superbad" came out years ago and recently a red band trailer emerged for "Get Him To The Greek". With these new trailers we are made privy to how much swearing, nudity and sexual perverseness there is to expect if we decide to check this movie on on the set due date.

For me I think this is the worst possible way to market a movie. Why? Well simple, I remember seeing the red ban trailer for "Superbad" and thinking "Wow if stuff that funny is in the movie, think of what else could be in it!" And I went to go and see the movie and to my surprise all of the scenes and scenarios that we presented in the red band trailer were alot of the memorable lines from the movie. Which to me is kinda cheating, I think that red band trailers use this gimmic to be able to show the best parts of the movie in about two and half minutes and then kinda coerce you into buying a ticket to the movie. When I saw "Superbad" I just thought, "I just pretty much all of the best stuff from that movie for free on my laptop at home, why in the hell did I pay twelve bucks to see it?"

A great example of a movie that didn't go this route and was majorly successful was "The Hangover" I don't think there was a single red band released for that movie mainly because alot of the comedy in the movie was appropriate to show in the a typical green band trailer damned if it wasn't funny! Another good example is "Role Models".

Hopefully marketers will get the idea to not spoil the movie for free for people who are already excited for a certain movie. I personally want to be surprised when I go to the movies and want the unexpectedness to be one of the reasons why I am going to the movie.

How do Movie Theaters decide which Trailers to show? (By stereotyping their audiences)

2010-04-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

Before seeing Clash of the Titans in 3-D, filmgoers at AMC theaters must sit through previews for the Nightmare on Elm Street remake, Salt, and Step Up 3-D, among others. These films have little in common and seem intended for vastly different audiences. How do movie theaters decide which trailers to show?

The "quadrant" system. As many as six trailers play before features at major chains, like AMC and Regal. The studio releasing a given film typically has automatic rights to two of these slots, and theater executives (in consultation with higher-ups from various studios) select the remaining four. Though theoretically studios and theaters could attach any trailer to any movie, they usually decide which releases to promote by using the "quadrant" system, which divides potential audiences into four different categories: men under 25, women under 25, men over 25, and women over 25. Before chick flicks, theaters play previews for romantic dramas as well as romantic comedies, because they figure that's what young women will eventually want to see. Regal Cinemas also began matching red band trailers, which include profanity and sexually explicit scenes, with R, NC-17, and unrated movies in 2008. And sometimes theaters disregard quadrants altogether if something else ties the movies together—say, if they're all in 3-D. (It's impossible to show a 3-D trailer before a 2-D movie, since those audiences aren't wearing special glasses.)

Of course, since there are often more than four possible previews available in a given quadrant, negotiating which trailers make the cut can be tricky. The young men going to see Clash of the Titans might enjoy learning about any number of upcoming movies—Kick-Ass, The Losers, Iron Man 2—in addition to the films already being advertised before the feature. Theaters further narrow the field by trying to treat all major studios more or less equally. They might play Warner Bros. trailers on 20 percent of all screens and Disney trailers on 30 percent, for example. The same trailers don't always play before the same movie at every branch of a large chain, so it's possible to spread the wealth around.

Sometimes distributors don't want to settle for equal treatment. Every studio wants its own films to piggyback on surefire hits, regardless of quadrants. As TiVo, the cable renaissance, and the Internet have eaten away at television audiences, theatrical trailers have become more and more important as marketing tools. Moviegoers are a captive audience, after all—and studios will do whatever they can to take advantage. Though such behavior is frowned upon, executives have on occasion paid exorbitant amounts to ensure that their trailers will be well-placed, as when Sony's Jeff Blake gave a theater chain $100,000 to ensure that the trailer for The Animal, a Rob Schneider vehicle, would be shown before Universal's The Mummy Returns in 2002.

The trailer placement system at independent theaters is much simpler: They only show trailers for movies that will soon be playing on one of their screens. For these exhibitors, the calendar is the only factor at play—and sometimes, their coming attractions don't even have trailers, which simplifies things even further.

Maureen McHugh: The Illusion of Authenticity

2010-04-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

It’s funny, but stories on the internet often evoke stronger emotions than stories on television and movies. That’s not to say movies and TV don’t make people feel. Field of Dreams probably made more men cry than all the funerals the year it was released. It’s my sense that people feel that interacting with a character—by email or phone, for example—makes it all feel more real. I never thought much about it, just accepted it as fact. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I think that it’s true that interaction plays a big part. But I also think that in twenty years, the effect will have worn off.

No Mimes was at a joint conference between USC and UCLA at University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts in March. The conference, called Transmedia Hollywood, was a long and interesting day. Many smart people. The thing that we do, tell distributed stories on multiple platforms using interactivity, has a bunch of names, transmedia being one of them. There are lots of long discussions about what we do, what the essential components of the artform are, and whether or not it is an artform, all of which are pretty interesting.

But I’m not going to talk about that because I think it’s an impossible question.

During the day of panel discussions, one of the words that kept coming up was ‘authentic.’ Comments like, ‘It works if it’s an authentic story.’ After awhile it was a little like listening to Stephen Colbert talk about ‘truthiness.’ Susan Cowan and I talked a little about it later at dinner. She has a lot of historical training and for her the word ‘authentic’ often refers to historical accuracy. And indeed, one of the panelists used the word that way. But most of the others seemed to be using ‘authentic’ to mean ‘makes an impression’ or ‘feels real’. An authentic story is almost by definition an oxymoron. Sure, there are true stories. But we were talking about fiction. About The Matrix, and the Batman movies. About Blair Witch.

As a novelist, I know techniques to create emotion in a reader. They don’t work one hundred percent of the time, but they’re pretty tried and true. Shakespeare and Homer used a lot of them. Listening to all of these people say ‘authentic’ made me think about technique and in particular about an actress, Eleanora Duse. She was the Meryl Streep of her era (she was born in 1858 and died in 1924). She was ‘natural.’ She was ‘moral.’ She didn’t wear make-up and she didn’t use the conventional gestures of her day. She is remembered for her work in Ibsen’s plays. But of course, most of her acting jobs were in contemporary plays, most of which we would now consider melodramas.

The anecdote I read and which I now can’t find, I’m sorry to say, described Duse acting in a melodrama. She played the wife of a man who was about to abandon her and their small son. The account describes how the convention worked, that the woman, on being told by her cad of a husband that he was leaving her, would fold her arms theatrically across her chest, her head back as if she might faint. Duse was standing, the child actor against her, his back in her skirts as if leaning against her in apprehension. The ‘husband’ delivered his news, and Duse leaned down and gently folded the boys arms across his chest, instead of doing it herself. The audience gasped, many sobbed.

Obviously they were moved to strong emotion. Obviously this was ‘authentic’ as many of the Transmedia Hollywood panelists were using the word. And why was this authentic? Well, it isn’t, of course. It is possibly true that many people used the gestures of melodrama in real life, just as it is true today that we sometimes learn behaviors from sitcoms. But what made the audience react was that they knew the convention, and like most conventions (which are really clichés) they didn’t feel much when the convention is acted out. What Duse did startled them. It was close enough to the convention to be recognizable, but it was novel. It was unexpected.

Transmedia has that advantage today. Almost every project I’ve worked on has drawn on a completely new and therefore naïve audience. While there are conventions to ARGs—the countdown, for example—the stories seem most effective when the plot of them is rather conventional. Too unconventional and the novelty of form and story feels overwhelming for the audience. But if the audience has a sense of where they are in a story—oh this is the part of the story where something criminal happens, oh this is the part of the story where the hero rescues the scientist, etc—then they can follow along, just as everyone knew that crossed arms and hands flat against breast meant that the heroine had been dealt a harrowing emotional blow. But just as Duse’s doing it with the boy’s arms felt fresh, learning that the girl has been kidnapped in an email feels intimate, startling, novel.

So achieving ‘authenticity’ requires novelty in an established convention. The audience needs some level of comfort and some elements of surprise. For now, Transmedia is pretty much always surprising for the audience. I suspect that in ten or twenty years, we may have to work harder at it.

I, for one, intend to milk this moment for all it’s worth. - Maureen McHugh

TV Directors: Doing everything Movie Directors do, only faster (sometimes).

2010-04-15T06:57:00.000-07:00

The next time you watch Lost, try setting aside the theories of good and evil, the intricacies of electromagnetic fields, the crush you have on Josh Holloway. Focus, instead, on the camera angles.

Consider, for instance, the airplane sequence in this season's premiere, "LA X." It re-created scenes from the 2004 pilot, but with differences small and large: a guy gets one bottle of vodka instead of two; someone's on the plane who wasn't there before; and oh, yes, there's no crash. It was the viewers' first glimpse of an alternate reality, and it was intended to be unsettling and surreal. That's why, for certain shots, director Jack Bender put his camera on a rocker plate, allowing it to tilt and swoop eerily around a character's head. "I just wanted something to be a little off," he told me.

Casual viewers might not have even been conscious of that movement, but Bender knew it would affect the mood in the way he wanted. It's the kind of technical choice that a good director makes, and it's the reason why, in the movie world at least, directors get power, glory, and ample credit for their creativity.

In television, however, directors work in relative obscurity. They're listed at the end of the opening credits but rarely become household names. TV is known as a writer's medium, driven by the people who devise plotlines and character arcs. The auteurs are the show creators and the show runners, who oversee all aspects of production. The Sopranos was considered David Chase's show; Boston Legal was David E. Kelley's; Grey's Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes.

But on ambitious TV shows—an ever growing category—directors are far more than just baby sitters who tell the actors where to stand. Directors help to establish a visual language for individual episodes and for series as a whole. They're responsible for choosing camera positions and drawing out performances from actors. Bender describes his role as cooking a meal from a recipe the writers have provided.

Rod Holcomb is among the career directors who have worked on a broad range of shows, shifting continuously between genres and styles. After starting his career in the ABC mailroom—really!—he worked his way up to a producing position on The Six Million Dollar Man, then started directing episodes of Battlestar Galactica, B.J. and the Bear, and Hill Street Blues. He later became one of a subset of TV directors who specialize in pilots; his include the first episodes of The Greatest American Hero, China Beach, and ER. For the ER pilot in 1994, Holcomb devised the show's trademark verite style. Action scenes were designed to convey a feeling of organized chaos—the camera was constantly moving, and the actors had to work to stay in its view. It was an idea he drew from visits to real emergency rooms, where long stretches of boredom were punctuated by sudden bursts of manic activity.

Pilots establish the look and feel of a series, but early episodes continue that work, and there, too, directors can have a major influence. Bender didn't direct the Lost pilot—that was J.J. Abrams—but he helmed the second episode, "Walkabout," and set some ground rules that have largely endured. Handheld cameras shouldn't be used unless they serve a real dramatic purpose. ("I said, 'OK, let's not become the handheld show,'" Bender says.) Blues and greens, the main colors on the island, should largely be kept out of the flashback scenes. During the filming of "Walkabout," Bender also made subtle changes to the script in order to heighten the drama. One scene, set on the beach amid the ruins of a crashed airplane, called for a knife to fly through the air and land in the trunk of a tree. Bender decided to send the knife into a seat cushion lodged in the sand, while a character sat in the adjacent seat.

Bender is also an executive producer of Lost, overseeing the filming operation in Hawaii (which includes managing the series' other directors) while the writers and show runners toil in Burbank. Show runners Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse leave many of the day-to-day decisions about props and sets to Bender and count on him to maintain a consistent vision and tone. "The ultimate goal—and this is more Jack's responsibility than it is ours—is that when you're watching an episode of Lost, you're immersed in the experience of watching it,'' Lindelof says.

But even directors who swoop in to helm a single episode often have power to block scenes and modify scripts. They just have to learn to navigate different show runners' styles. Aaron Sorkin, creator and writer of The West Wing, barely writes stage directions at all, says Lesli Linka Glatter, another longtime TV director. He'll produce pages of dense dialogue and leave directors to sort out the motion. Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner, by contrast, writes scripts filled with physical descriptions, specifying when Don Draper picks up a glass of Scotch and when he takes a sip.

But Glatter says she's learned that Weiner is open to suggestions, too. She can tell him, "Matt, I understand that Don Draper is taking an emotional beat there. Can he look out the window versus taking a sip of Scotch?" The answer tends to be yes. "He just needs to know you know what the subtext is," Glatter says. "And once you do, he gives you a lot of freedom."

On a series like Mad Men, that freedom translates into the ability to direct what is essentially a small independent film, choosing shots that set a tone and send a message. In the Season 3 episode "Guy Walks Into an Advertising Agency"— for which she won a Directors Guild of America award—Glatter made the decision to film a charged scene between Don and Joan Holloway as a "two-shot," without cutaways or close-ups. She also storyboarded the grotesque-yet-hilarious sequence when a runaway lawnmower crosses the Sterling Cooper offices and runs over the foot of a British executive. For the pivotal moment when blood spatters onto three Sterling Cooper employees, Glatter pulled a trick to ensure that the actors would look genuinely shocked. She told them fake blood would be thrown on them on the count of three. Then, when the camera was running, she had it thrown on "two."

It was jolting, but also just right—as Glatter notes, the entire episode "was about expectation and uncertainty." A director's job, she says, is to establish that kind of overarching theme and to do so at the breakneck pace of television production. Compared with film directors, TV directors work through a lot more material, a lot more quickly. On many shows, directors have a scant eight days to prepare for an hour-long episode and eight more to shoot it; two-hour feature films are often produced over the course of months.

"You need to know what the $5 scene is and what the $1 scene is," Glatter says. "You have to know … the scene that turns your story and what you want to spend your time on."

Sometimes it's the small scenes that benefit most from a director's touch. Holcomb has directed his share of boffo action sequences, but he also talks with pride about a segment in a recent episode of The Good Wife, the CBS legal procedural starring Julianna Margulies as a politician's wife who returns to the work force after her husband gets caught in a scandal. The scene features Margulies and Josh Charles, who plays a law school friend—and possibly an old flame—who is now her boss. They're discussing her role at the firm, but there's ample subtext: jealousy, mistrust, and unrequited love.

"I want to be here," she says.
"I want you to be here," he replies.
"Then … then I'm here," she says.
"OK," he says.

The dialogue is spare but the scene takes up a lot of time. Holcomb says his chief contribution was to insist that the actors not rush it: "I just simply said, 'Too fast. Too fast. Slower.' " When the camera lingers on their faces—the slight smile on Margulies' lips, the wistful look in Charles' eyes—it's clear that the director knew what he was doing. - Joanna Weiss

Alan Sepinwall tells us why Conan's move to TBS was the "right choice"

2010-04-13T07:46:00.000-07:00

From Alan Sepinwall: In announcing his stunning decision to abandon negotiations with Fox in favor of doing a talk show on TBS starting in November, Conan O'Brien joked, "“In three months I’ve gone from network television to Twitter to performing live in theaters, and now I’m headed to basic cable. My plan is working perfectly.”

But the best jokes all come from truth, and the truth is that the TBS move, while a shocker, is probably the smartest one Conan could have made once NBC squeezed him out of "The Tonight Show" chair.

Going to Fox would have been Conan repeating the same mistake he made in wanting "The Tonight Show" so badly, and in going through with that plan even after NBC poisoned the well for him by putting Jay Leno on at 10.

Conan wanted "Tonight" because of what it once was - the Johnny Carson version he grew up watching in an era when the broadcast networks ruled all - rather than what it had become by the time he was due to inherit it. Conan's audience was not the "Tonight" audience, and at 11:30 viewers who might otherwise be on Team Coco were used to watching Stephen Colbert or Adult Swim, while viewers accustomed to 17 years of Leno-fied "Tonight" soundly rejected the new guy. (Since Leno reclaimed the show, the overall audience has gone up, but so has the median age of that audience.)

Everyone assumed Conan would go to Fox, but that was only because Fox was the last of the Big Four networks without some kind of presence in late night from Monday to Friday. But that kind of thinking is what led to Conan trying and failing to be accepted by the Leno crowd.

Sure, the broadcast networks are still the biggest game in town, but they're not as big as they used to be, and success in television these days comes as often from finding and satisfying a niche - which Conan did splendidly for so many years on "Late Night" - as from trying to bring in a bigger, more diverse, less engaged crowd.

TBS doesn't have the audience Fox has, but it has more money to spend. It's one of the biggest outfits in cable, and cable has an unfair financial advantage over the networks: where broadcasters like NBC and Fox only make money from advertising, a TBS makes money from both ads and cable subscriber fees. So they can afford to spend more on Conan (all reports on Monday suggested the TBS deal was much bigger than anything Fox was offering) while also living with lower ratings, where NBC had to pull the plug on Conan's "Tonight" (which was getting viewership numbers much higher than he'll likely get on TBS for a while, if ever) after only a few months.

Fox, on the other hand, not only had to limit its financial risk, but had to battle with local affiliate stations to air a Conan show at 11 or even 11:30, when many of those affiliates would rather air lucrative repeats of "Seinfeld," "The Simpsons," et al. TBS has no affiliates to please; when Conan's show launches in November, it'll be on at the same time everywhere you get TBS, which is virtually every cable supplier in the country.

(And in the process, Conan will push incumbent TBS latenight host George Lopez to midnight. But where Conan balked at NBC's attempt to push him back to midnight by a Leno return to 11:35, TBS' official party line is that Lopez asked Conan to come on board. If true, he no doubt figured that a show at midnight with a Conan lead-in was a better long-term bet than a show at 11 with sitcom reruns as a lead-in.)

If Conan went to Fox, he'd be fighting for a slice of the same aging (and less lucrative) pie that still turns to the networks for late night comedy, and he'd be starting out with a show that, at best, would have aired at 11 o'clock in 70% of the country. Every tenth of a percentage point up or down would have been analyzed to death by the media, and chances are it still wouldn't have worked.

At TBS, he's suddenly the channel's biggest star, and yet overall expectations will be much lower than they'd be at Fox. He'll also hopefully have more freedom to experiment with the form, and to focus more on the things he does best (absurdist comedy) and less on the traditional areas where he's not that interesting (the promotional interviews).

Conan can joke about going from broadcast to basic cable, but the fact is we're on at least our second generation of Americans to grow up with cable in the home, and for whom TBS and CBS are two equal channels in the same DVR programming guide.

In his final, moving moments as host of "The Tonight Show," Conan asked of his viewers, "Please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism - it's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

A cynic might suggest that Conan was settling with this decision. But in the long run, I suspect he's going to be much happier - and in a much better position from which to attempt amazing things - than if he'd gone to Fox just because he felt he had to stay in the broadcast network game.

Making A (Science Fiction) Movie On A Shoestring: Where Can You Cut Corners?

2010-04-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

You're maxing out your credit cards, or you've found an investor. However it's happened, you've got money to make your film. Now the question becomes: how to make that money last? Where do you spend, and where do you save?

I've had lots of occasion to grapple with these questions during my time in film school, and I've learned the hard way that the less money you have to spend, the harder you have to work to make it effective. The mantra you should be thinking about is, "You get what you pay for."

Where to spend:

Director of Photography:

If you're a beginning filmmaker, chances are you don't have as firm a grasp on cinematography as you would want. I'm not saying that to be dismissive or rude, I'm saying that as a compliment to talented cinematographers, because it's a very specific skill set. A good DP will come to your project with a willingness to help you execute your vision, but also a viewpoint of their own, so they'll be able to make suggestions you might not have thought of to bring out the story better.

Yes, you can use a student DP and I know three amazingly talented student DPs that I would hire in a heartbeat for any project, no questions asked. But this is a place where using someone with great experience and knowledge will elevate your film and educate you as a filmmaker. Total win-win situation.

Camera:

You want to use the best camera you can afford. Yes, your story is the most important thing. Yes, the crew and the talent you bring together to bring that story to life are extremely important.
But don't cheap out on the camera in favor of any item on the "save" list. Because the better camera you have, the better the picture will look with the poor lighting you're probably going to be working with, and the less the audience will have to strain to suspend its disbelief.

It's not a perfect world. Audiences only have so much tolerance for grainy, ill-defined images, even if there's a great script. Film is a visual medium. Make sure your visuals are as top notch as they can be.
And some people disagree with me here, but if you have the cash to spend, there's still nothing that quite beats the look of real film, except perhaps the Red . Digital is good, and it has its own look to it. So really think about that choice and what look is best for your story.

Sound:

You might have some issues with George Lucas these days, but his insistence that sound is a fundamental part of the filmmaking experience is absolutely right. So please take this from somebody who has learned the hard way time and time again: get good sound equipment and somebody who knows how to use it. Or, get a good sound mixer/recordist and ask them what they'll need to supplement their own equipment.

Your script can be amazing, but if nobody can hear it, it doesn't matter. Sound is not as easy as you think. A good sound person is like a good DP — they'll elevate your project and help you learn how to make your own vision even better.

Script Supervisor:

Somebody on Twitter asked me the other day how important a script supervisor was to a low-budget indie project. Now, as a script supervisor, I'm obviously biased, but as I told them, it's MORE important the lower your budget and the more your constraints. The less budget you have, the more prone you are to cut corners and the likelier you are to have mistakes creep in. The more disorganized you get, the more hurried you become. Your script supervisor's job is more than just maintaining continuity (thought that's a large part of it) but also to help you make sure you've shot everything you want to get, that there are plenty of accurate script notes for the editor, that everything will cut together properly in the end... the list goes on and on.

To learn more about what a script/continuity supervisor does, "That Continuity Guy" has a wonderful section called Continuity 101.

Even if you find somebody willing to work for free or a very low rate, you should be willing to pay a "kit rental" fee to help them offset the cost of their consumables (binders, paper, pencils, etc) and the tools they provide to do their job (digital cameras, printers, laptops, scanners, etc.)

Food:

In one of my first film classes, a working professional came in to give a talk to the class. He told us that there was one golden rule of filmmaking, never to be broken:

Always feed your crew.

I'm going to say it one more time so you realize how important this is:

ALWAYS feed your crew.

Film sets are strenuous places, and the people who are working for you are working hard and doing it all for the glory of the director's vision, maybe it's because they believe in the project, or maybe they just need the work. But no matter what, they deserve to eat.

If you're shooting in the morning, have coffee (and maybe juice for people like me who don't drink coffee). Have lots of water available, because it gets really hot under the lights and because you don't want people dehydrated and sick. Have snacks for people to munch on.

But the big thing: if you're shooting for more than a couple hours, have a meal. If you're shooting for more than twelve hours, have two meals. Ordering up enough pizzas to feed everyone is perfectly acceptable, that's pretty much the standard on student shoots. But feed your crew. If you don't, it is a one way ticket to grumpy workers, sluggish movement, and bad performances. The simple act of making sure people have food will work wonders, and let you get away with low, low budgets on everything else including their paychecks.

On the bubble:

Lights:

If you're shooting mostly outdoors, you can probably get by with very minimal lighting equipment just to diffuse or bounce the sunlight the way you want it.

If you're shooting inside, you might be able to get by with lamps and the lights in the space. But you probably will need at least one lighting kit. Lighting is so key that it's hard for me to say you don't need much of it, but a good DP will be able to help you find ways to light your scene without costing you a fortune. This is a case where the amount you'll need to spend on lights is directly related to how good your DP and your camera are.

Post-Production:

Having a professional take care of your color correction and sound mix are just good ideas. You can learn it and do it yourself in a pinch — most people I know do. But in the end, there's just no substitute for somebody who has real talent and skill making sure your final visual and sound are downright perfect. Sometimes, you can enter contests and festivals with your almost-finished film where you can win money specifically for these finishing tasks.

Where to save:

Actors:
I should probably duck and hide on this one. But there are just so many wonderful, talented actors out there that are looking for experience and as long as you feed them (see above) they'll come out and give you a damn good performance. Put out a casting call and you'll be surprised at what you get. I'm talking professionals, too — not just casting your friends in the part because they'll do it for free.

I'm putting this at the top of the list though because if you can afford to pay your actors, you really should. They're bringing your vision to life, and they're the public face of your story. But there are a lot of actors just looking for good stories to perform, and if you treat them well they'll give you something amazing.

Locations:

You can find a lot of locations that are happy to let you film just so they can get their logo in the film, or see their name in the credits. Think about how to dress spaces to make them look different from what they are if you need to. (Try to avoid having your starship's engineering room look like a beer brewery, for example.) But feel free to make your friend's apartment look like three different houses with careful camera angles and decoration.

Your local film office might have a directory on their webpage of locations that are willing to let film crews in, though some of them might have a rental fee. But if you explain your project and they like it, they might be willing to work that out as well. Think about what you can offer the place in exchange. But make absolutely sure that no matter where you go or how much you paid them that you treat the place with respect and restore it to 100% when you're done. If you damage it, offer to fix it or pay for the repair. If you spill something, clean it up.

Production Assistants:

You can practically throw a rock and hit somebody that will be a production assistant. Don't get me wrong, a good PA is worth their weight in gold, but at the same time, a lot of people are just looking to get credits to their name and get some experience. If you just need somebody to fetch coffee and empty trash cans, get one of your friends to help. If you want somebody that is working with the camera crew, see if your local university has a film program and ask them how to post a listing to their students. My school has a listserv where volunteer jobs are posted all the time.

Other crew:

If you hire a good DP and sound mixer, then they might be able to help you fill out your crew with students from local film programs, or other locals that aren't as expensive because they're just getting started. I hate to say it, but media jobs are scarce right now so posting on Craigslist should get you plenty of responses from people who want the work to keep their skills sharp. Just be aware that the more inexperienced your crew, the longer your shoot is going to take, and the more of an ordeal it is going to be. Your camera crew especially shouldn't be all newbies, because the DP doesn't have time to explain what a c-stand is (if you can afford c-stands).

Makeup/Hair:

Like other jobs on the list, you can probably find somebody who is looking to start in the business and is willing to work for cheap on Craigslist or the like. But it's in your best interest to make sure you have at least somebody on the set to help the actors not just look their best, but look like normal human beings. Cameras have a way of making normal, healthy skin look weird in one way or another. Like script supervisors, it's polite to pay for their consumables and kits.

Special effects makeup is trickier. You can do a surprising amount of stuff yourself if you study up, or get somebody vaguely knowledgeable. But the materials are more expensive, and unless you intentionally want it to look bad (which is a valid style) it might be best to get somebody with experience.

Costumes:

When you're hiring your actors, ask if they would mind wearing their own clothes for your shoot. Depending on the style of the project or the style of the character, that might not be possible, but for most things it's pretty easy. But always ask politely, and if they don't want to, respect their wishes.
BUT, if you do use their stuff, make sure that you take care of their clothing and reimburse them for any and all damage that happens during the course of the shoot .

If you're doing something that requires a particular style of costume or period, there are a lot of ways to borrow things. Maybe a local shop or clothing designer is looking for some advertisement (seriously, offering ads and exposure is always good). Ask local theatres and university performing arts departments if they might be willing to loan costumes.

Set dressing/props:

You'd be amazed the weird and fun things your friends might have in their basements and garages. For a one-act play I directed, it called for all kinds of weird props like a steering wheel, a huge empty picture frame, a nightstick, and a head of lettuce. The only thing I didn't find in my parent's basement was the head of lettuce.

While you might want to avoid a situation where you use a razor as a communicator, at the same time props can be almost anything if you paint them or change them properly. I know you've probably sat and watched sci-fi series and movies and tried to figure out what some of their props actually were, so apply that kind of thinking. If you need help coming up with ways to create props cheaply and well, make friends with some cosplayers. They also could help on the costuming end of things.

Editing:

Editing software is another case of "you get what you pay for." If you really want to edit like the pros and do the absolute best post-production job that you can do, you want Avid Media Composer. Only slightly behind is Final Cut Pro. As much as people love to praise it for being such a cheap option, it still has a very hefty price tag (especially if you don't own a Mac and have to buy one of those). But in the end, if you're editing this piece yourself, you might not even know how to use the best features on those programs anyway, so why pay for them if you aren't going to use them?

There are several cheaper options, like Pinnacle Studio, which I haven't used myself, but I've used a similar product by the same company and liked it. Lifehacker has a rundown of some of the options that are out there.

But I'll tell you right now, that you shouldn't use Windows Movie Maker. When it comes to real editing, it's junk. You can string together your home movies using it, sure. But film editing? Never. Most people with any experience editing feel similarly about iMovie, but it does the job, just not in a very pleasing way once you're used to real programs like FCP and Avid.

Music:

There are a lot of local bands and musicians online that will work for free just for the exposure. It's a marketing tool for them, and you just have to dig and find them. There's also some surprisingly good music for low prices on sites like iStock. But don't use copyrighted music if you can help it, because its way more trouble than its worth and it means that you'll be in trouble if you want to submit your film to festivals or charge at screenings. Even YouTube could take it down if you use music without permission. It's dumb to risk it if you don't have to.

And last word of advice: please be prepared for your budget to disappear when you're not looking. Even the most well intentioned people end up spending money in places they never expected. So maybe you should only max out one credit card, so you have another to buy last minute props and set dressing.

"Instructions" by Neil Gaiman

2010-04-10T18:07:00.001-07:00

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
front door,
as a knocker,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat
nothing.
However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the
wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's
realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the
wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-
growth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle.
Inside it are three princesses.
Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-
man will take you.
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.
Know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
one's lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your
journey started,
you will recognize it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.
And rest.

Katzenberg On The 3D Sophomore Slump?

2010-04-10T15:05:00.000-07:00

Jeffrey Katzenberg is repeating history, almost 20 years later.
His "sophomore slump" memorandum. which was one of the first pieces of internal Hollywood industry correspondence published by a media outlet without authorization - in Variety, though there is no trace of it from searching their website and we are still working on finding a full copy of the memo from 1991 - was all about how the high concept studio that he and Eisner perfected in resurrecting Disney was about to become bastardized, overused, overspent, and devalued.

He was dead on.

And now, in Variety - yes, they can still get a studio head to do an interview between blog leaks - he is at it again. And I am quite sure that he is right again.

" We are asking the moviegoers to pay a 50 percent premium to come see these films. So I think (there will be a) backlash. It will be a whiplash. They will walk away from this so fast."

Yeah. 50% isn't true, but close enough.

Now, I have to call bullshit on JK a little. He seems to be suggesting that since he built this thing - and only Jim Cameron's fingerprints are as firmly connected to Nouveau-3D - that he should be allowed to decide who gets to milk the cash cow.

He beneficently gives Alice in Wonderland a pass... buying into the spin that Tim Burton designed a second of it for 3D... but Clash of the Titans is just too much for him!

"the revenue (today) from a successful 3D release net to the studios is greater than the erosion in the DVD market over the last two years."

Yes... for that ONE film. But not for the industry overall. He runs a company now that is 3D Animation Only. His one or two films a year are clearly benefited. So studios that release 15 films a year need to back off so he can be safe generating his increased profitability?

The bottom line is that most big studio films are shit, have been shit, and will be shit. Alice wasn't any better because of 3D, whether it was shot for the projection system or not. There may be another movie which feels as good in 3D as Avatar again... though I would still argue that Avatar was no better in 3D than in 2D. But those movie experiences are few and far between.

"For the last four or five years, the raging debate here has been the inability of Hollywood to convince exhibition, because there's really nothing in it for exhibition. It doesn't change the economics of their business. They can't charge more for a digital experience. The thing that finally got everybody off the dime was when there was something in it for exhibition, which was 3D.

So now take that 3D out of the equation and you derail that (digital) train. And who's the biggest beneficiary of digital, of a full digital platform? Hollywood. So when you want to talk about the effect of actually blowing this, it's unbelievable."

Again... a bit of hyperbole. What got the theaters off the dime is that the studios finally agreed to pay most of the bill for the new projectors. Indeed, there are hundreds of millions and as much a $2 billion per year to be saved by studios by having digital exhibition. That train has left the station and is not coming back. It would make no sense for the studios to get in their own way.

For the first time in almost a decade admissions are way up. Almost all of it can be attributed to 3D. There's a reason to get out of the home and go back to the movies.

More spin. Almost all of it can be attributed to Twilight 2, The Hangover, The Blind Side, and Avatar.

That said, every $100 million domestic animated film other than The Princess & The Frog happens to have been in 3D. But if you look at 2008's $100m animated grossers, only one of which was 3D, they were less than 20% behind the average domestic gross of 2009's six animated $100m films.

Can anyone legitimately say that 3D was the difference? No. And has been pointed out, as discussed many times here, admissions is a blurry, blurry stat. Did admissions really go up a lot? I don't really know. What I do know is that there were 6 films that grossed over $200m domestic in 2008 and 10 in 2010. Is that 3D's fault?

I am convinced that there (is) a high road to take, and that it would produce the best opportunity to come along for our business in a decade. I'm even more convinced that if we take the low road, we'll be out of the 3D business in 12 months.

The "low road" is everyone jumping on the bandwagon. The "high road" is 10 films a year... without quality police. Keep the novelty. Keep the bonus pricing.

JK is dead right. This will blow up. It will sink. And not because this movie sucked or it was 2D conversion that was never meant to be 3D or whatever. 3D was the new fad in town this year. And as I have written before, the opportunity is being raped more quickly than I have seen any other phenom get raped. But when 3D matures... like IMAX... it is a niche' thing, not a new standard. And if the industry keeps acting as though it is some new standard, it will die like the dodo. And as Katzenberg says... it will happen faster than you can say, "DVD."

Naked Honesty: Why mumblecore nudity will never go mainstream.

2010-04-04T19:49:00.000-07:00

Greta Gerwig is usually nude at some point in the movies she appears in. This fact was addressed by New York Times film critic A.O. Scott last weekend in an article about Gerwig's breakthrough performance in the Noah Baumbach movie Greenberg: "When she takes off her clothes—which is not infrequently—it does not seem teasing or exhibitionistic but disarmingly matter-of-fact." Scott argues that Gerwig's unaffected nude scenes in Greenberg share the aesthetic of her earlier work in so-called mumblecore films—ultra-low budget, often-improvised movies about lost twentysomethings. He sees Gerwig as carrying the "loose, no-big-deal" mumblecore aesthetic into Baumbach's film and believes she has the potential to take it even further into the mainstream "Ms. Gerwig, most likely without intending to be anything of the kind, may well be the definitive screen actress of her generation," Scott writes.

Greenberg does occasionally achieve the loose feel of a mumblecore film, thanks, in no small part, to Gerwig's performance. Yet it is a mistake to equate Gerwig's nudity in Greenberg with the nudity in mumblecore movies like Hannah Takes the Stairs, Humpday, Nights and Weekends, Tiny Furniture, and Alexander the Last. Gerwig could become the definitive screen actress of her generation, but there are limits to how much of her aesthetic she'll be able to bring to more mainstream pictures—and it's especially hard to imagine Hollywood ever really adopting the approach to nudity that's been a hallmark of her mumblecore work.

When Gerwig is naked or semi-naked in Greenberg, it is always in a sexual context. Much has been made of the supremely awkward sex scenes between Gerwig and Ben Stiller, particularly their first encounter. As Slate's Dana Stevens describes it, "Baumbach throws the two together on a cringingly bad sort-of date that segues in a matter of minutes from a shared Corona to a truncated act of cunnilingus." Gerwig's nudity in that scene is anything but matter-of-fact: Baumbach seems to be going out of his way to make her appear ungainly, outfitting her in an unflattering bandeau bra that Stiller's character has trouble removing. Furthermore, there is a visual imbalance between the pair. Gerwig's character is half-clothed, while Stiller remains completely dressed. That Gerwig is a relative unknown while Stiller is one of the most famous, recognizable men in the country further exacerbates this imbalance.

Actors in mumblecore movies get naked to have sex too, and they have a lot of it. But the nakedness really is matter-of-fact—there's a sense of intimacy that feels authentic and nonjudgmental, though it's not always pretty. In Nights and Weekends, the opening scene shows Gerwig and her co-star Joe Swanberg, bursting into a dingy, post-grad apartment and having sex on the floor. They are a couple in a long-distance relationship who have not seen each other for months, and without any dialogue the two convey their excitement. Both are equally naked in this scene and Swanberg is obviously aroused. For the viewer, there is again a sense of recognition: This is probably what I look like having sex. In a mumblecore film, there are no manicured Hollywood caresses, and the bodies portrayed are not Hollywood bodies—one Variety reviewer described Lena Dunham's figure in Tiny Furniture as "Neither model-thin nor obese"—but they're not made out to be freakish, nor are they especially sexualized. They just are.

What's more, actors in mumblecore movies are often nude in nonsexual contexts: They're taking a shower (Nights and Weekends) or walking around their apartment in their underwear (Tiny Furniture). The nakedness doesn't titillate; it's mundane—the viewer thinks, This is probably what I look like while I'm brushing my teeth in the morning.

This is not to say that the nudity in Greenberg has no mumblecore DNA at all. Gerwig didn't do several months of yogarobics to be naked on-camera—in a very un-Hollywood turn, she gained 15 pounds for Greenberg—not because Baumbach requested it but because she felt her character, Florence, was someone whose "thighs rubbed together when she walked." Usually when an A-list actress agrees to be nude in a movie, it is only after being assured that she will be shot in the most flattering way possible. In the recently released Atom Egoyan movie Chloe, for example, Amanda Seyfried and Julianne Moore are both fully nude, but they both have "ideal" bodies and are made to look as glorious and erotic as possible.

In those rare instances when nudity is shown in a nonsexual context in a Hollywood movie, it is rarely casual. Sometimes it's a very big deal, like Julianne Moore's famous pantless scene in the Robert Altman film Short Cuts [link very NSFW]. She's having a major argument with Matthew Modine's character, and when he registers that she's half-naked, he screams, "You don't have any panties on!" In other instances, nudity is played for laughs—this is often the case with male nudity. In a DoubleX article from last summer, Willa Paskin noticed the trend of flaccid penises showing up in comedies like Forgetting Sarah Marshall. In that film, Jason Segel's character surprises his girlfriend naked when she walks in the door after a long trip. When he realizes that she is dumping him, he demands that she break up with him while he's still unclothed.

Even if a mainstream movie wanted to employ the casual nudity of a mumblecore film, it would be difficult to pull off. Mumblecore movies are highly collaborative affairs, often made by close friends. Typically, the actors also have writing credits and do some work behind the camera. Director Joe Swanberg, for example, is naked on-screen in Nights and Weekends and in his Web series Young American Bodies. Lena Dunham, the writer, director, and star of Tiny Furniture, a recent festival darling, told me over the phone, "I've never gotten naked for another director, which for me is defining." She appears in varying degrees of undress in her first feature, Creative Nonfiction, and in Tiny Furniture. Her co-stars in Tiny Furniture are her real-life mother and sister, so when she is walking around with no pants on it's that much more of a safe space. This intimacy would be tough to manufacture in a big-budget movie, not just because it's rare for A-list actors to know one another so well, but also because there are so many more crew members involved in a bigger productions.

Perhaps the most significant reason true mumblecore-style nudity is unlikely to ever really make it into the mainstream comes down to money. Mumblecore movies are so small that they do not get rated by the Motion Picture Association of America. If they were rated, most of them would likely get the dreaded NC-17. A quick perusal of the top-grossing NC-17 films shows that the rating means comparative box-office death.

The earthy feel to the films that Greta Gerwig and her cohort have developed may "blossom and cross-pollinate with other, older strains in American cinema," as Scott tentatively predicts in his essay. And while true mumblecore-style nudity might never show up in a box-office blowout—as Dunham says, "It's not like you're going to see a James Cameron movie with chubby girls naked"—it could show up in smaller, lower key mainstream productions. If directors are looking for an example of how this might work, though, they should skip the painful sex scenes in Greenberg in favor of one that really does capture the spirit of the Gerwig aesthetic. Toward the end of the movie, on the eve of an emotionally fraught event, Gerwig dances drunkenly around her apartment in tights and a shirt. She's not naked but looks like she's taken off an uncomfortable skirt in order to relax after a trying day. Who among us has not performed this sort of half-clothed ritual alone in our rooms? It's as vulnerable and true as that Corona-sipping sex scene is brutish and contrived. - Jessica Grose

Why this whole 3D business is starting to offend us (and others)

2010-04-03T06:35:00.001-07:00

The new Clash of the Titans hits theaters this weekend in 3D — not because the filmmakers wanted it that way, but because Warner Bros. could charge more for it. Which is just plain wrong.

Listen, Hollywood, I know that we're in a recession and theatrical attendance is down, and you're all gaga over Avatar's titanic bottom line — which was undeniably goosed by the fact that moviegoers had to pay extra to see it in 3D. But, you know, this is starting to get silly.

lash of the Titans boasts some of the worst 3D of the modern age. Remember that 3D episode of Chuck? Better than this. Why? Because it's a movie that was shot in 2D, force-converted into 3D. Again, we ask why? Greed. Not because the film would play better or look better or achieve a sensory experience unattainable on a "flat" screen. Simply so that it would make more money.

And, of course, Hollywood's in it for the greenbacks. I get that. And I don't have a philosophical problem with 3D, either. When done well — in the aformentioned Avatar, How to Train Your Dragon, Coraline, Up, even Beowulf — 3D can be a wonderfully transporting, enveloping tool. But when it's done with all the deftness of a fingerless mercenary...I call bullshit.

Have a little more respect for me, the audience. Earn my cash with glory; if you deliver unto me true spectacle, I'll gladly deliver unto you my money. But don't reach in my pocket just because you can. Or I'll...I'll...I just won't leave the house. So there.

Off Topic: Decades-Long Physics Mystery Sparked by Ice Cream

2010-04-03T06:05:00.000-07:00

So every now and then, we here at Weatherlight like to take some time away from Film and Culture to point out interesting stories. Our friends over at Science/Sci-Fi Blog io9 have posted a very interesting piece on the mystery behind the science of ice cream (and freezing boiling water).

How did a love of frozen treats lead to one of the greatest mysteries in physics? Find out in our tale of the Mpemba Effect, a still-unexplained phenomenon where boiling liquids freeze faster than cool ones.

In the 1960s in Tanzania, a high school kid wanted ice cream enough to do something unscrupulous. Who among us can blame him? Most of io9's readers are adults, and it's a safe bet that a number of them are willing to do something unscrupulous right now to get ice cream, just because they're reading about it. Young Erasto Mpemba's ethical lapse was far more minor. His entire class was making ice cream from scratch. They had to boil the milk, let it cool, and then store it in the freezer so it could freeze. Mpemba watched his classmates filling the freezer with their cooled milk, while his was just-boiled and still steaming. He didn't want to risk missing out, so he put his milk in the freezer even though it was hot.

To his surprise, his teacher's disbelief, and the no-doubt smoldering resentment of the kids had who let their milk cool and missed out on ice cream as a result, Mpemba's milk froze fastest.

Mpemba remembered this phenomenon well into adulthood, studied past instances in which people observed that warm liquids froze faster than cold ones, and worked with other scientists to verify this. They found that under certain circumstances, the Mpemba Effect does work. Hot liquid, especially water, freezes faster than cold liquid when it is placed in a freezer.

Why should this be possible?

Because the problem is so complex, there hasn't been a definite explanation. There are many posited theories, however. Cool water, when placed in a freezer, insulates itself. A layer of ice forms at the top, preventing more heat from escaping. Hot water does not form the layer of ice as quickly, and so it cools faster. Hot water in a frosty freezer melts the ice underneath it. Soon, however, the ice reforms around the dish that the water is put in, and wicks away the extra heat. Since cool water doesn't melt the ice underneath it, it sits on craggy frost, instead of a fitted sleeve of ice. The surface area between it and the ice is reduced, and heat won't escape as quickly
Only two theories, though, have passionately valiant defenders. These two theories are currently battling it out Rocky I, II, III, or V style.

The first theory features Io9's old friend, nucleation. Disgusting, yet unseen, pieces of dirt in water form sites on which ice crystals can accumulate. Different kinds of filth form crystals at different temperatures. The high-bidder piece of refuse, the one that forms crystals at the highest temperature, will determine what temperature water freezes at. James Brownridge, an independent researcher, believes that the nucleation temperature of water determines whether or not the Mpemba Effect will occur. If the impurities in one container of water are such that, it freezes at least five degrees higher than another container of water, then when the first container of water will freeze faster than the second if it is heated.

In other words, if you have two glasses of water, and you put them both in the freezer at room temperature, and the Wolverine Origins glass of water freezes at five degrees higher than the Thundercats glass of water; thaw them out, warm up the Wolverine glass to eighty degrees, and bet someone twenty bucks that it will freeze first.

But there's another contender for the title.

Apollo Creed to Brownridge's Rocky, or Mickey to Brownridges' Paulie, or perhaps the Robot Butler to Brownridge's Adrian – it's tough to make Rocky metaphors – is Jonathan Katz.

His theory rests on another property of water. Water doesn't just have invisible specks of grime floating in it. It also has little specs of grunge dissolved in it. Whether they are salt, or carbon dioxide, or magnesium, they merge with the water to form a briny muck that freezes lower and boils higher than water should. Heating water will shake free some of these substances, claims Katz, and will cause the Mpemba Effect to occur. Whether it occurs or not will depend on the composition of the water, the container, and how much the substance was heated.

The debate rages on. Perhaps someone reading this will finally put the question to rest.

More likely, though, they will go out for ice cream.

How to win or lose on movies' box office prospects

2010-04-02T07:21:00.001-07:00

Two companies are proposing exchanges for betting on movie box office receipts. It's similar to how investors now trade on futures for corn and other commodities.

Trend Exchange from Veriana Ventures would require higher minimum investments than the Cantor Exchange from Cantor Fitzgerald. That means movie fans and other amateurs would more likely be able to participate in Cantor's system, which would be accessible through a Web site.

In Cantor's case, a so-called hedger — such as an investor in the movie or just a fan — would sell futures contracts to a speculator valued at $1 for every $1 million in expected U.S. and Canadian ticket sales during the first month.

So if the market believes the next "Harry Potter" movie would make $175 million, a futures contract would initially go for $175. That opening price would be determined in an auction about six months before a movie's release.

That contract would trade higher and lower as expectations rise and fall. If box office estimates rise to $200 million because of good reviews closer to the movie's opening, holders of existing contracts could resell them for $200, making $25 in profit. Or a hedger could sell a new contract for $200 to a speculator.
If "Harry Potter" ends up making $250 million when the month is up, the speculator would gain $50 for every contract bought at $200. That $50 would be paid by the hedger. However, if the movie makes only $150 million, the hedger would pocket the $50 difference — paid by the speculator.

Multiple those figures by hundreds or thousands of contracts, and Hollywood investors could cover a good part of their risks.

Theory of the day: How Apple's iPad Will Save Comics and Crush Dreams

2010-04-02T07:14:00.000-07:00

Apple's iPad — known to some as the Savior of Everything — drops in a few days. As every industry figures out how to deploy its shininess, here's how comics oughta roll.

With Apple's Slab of Wisdom and Justice about to drop on our unworthy society on April 3rd, those who both work in comics and read them voraciously have seized upon it as a focal point around which to finally figure out how comics will evolve into the digital world. There are scores of comic-reader apps floating around, including offerings like LongBox, Panelfly, graphic.ly, comic.x, and others. Which are all well and good — and some, like LongBox, have a lot going for them — even if they're kinda missing the point.

What's needed is not a program that'll replicate the experience of reading a comic book — heck, the copious torrenting of books shows that people don't care how they ingest the content, just that they do — but rather will offer them the one-stop ease of experience that, say, the iTunes store provides. It's as much about the content as it is the delivery of that content. What's needed is what noted digivore John Rogers calls a podcast-style management tool. Let's say you wanna read The Walking Dead. You buy a year's subscription in one fell swoop and it just shows up on your iPad, just like the latest Fresh Ink podcast shows up on your iPhone. Sure, you'll still be able to buy singles and collections ("graphic albums"), but you'll want to have your pull list automated — fire-and-forget comics intake.

And to think that Apple's gonna let anyone mind this particular shop but Apple is to betray a fundamental ignorance of the way Apple's done business for the last thousand years. If the iPad is going to be the salvation of comics in the Digital Age, then I'm real sorry, lads, but I don't think there any room left at the inn. - Marc Bernardin

Why is Frankenstein so hard to do right?

2010-04-01T11:46:00.000-07:00

There have been movies based on Mary Shelley's classic for almost as long as there have been movies themselves. But why are so few of them any good?

With the news that Wanted director Timur Bekmambetov is set to adapt The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein — Peter Ackroyd's novel which posits that Percy Shelley and Victor F. were classmates at Oxford University and one goads the other into breaking nature's laws — we got to thinking about the legacy of the Modern Prometheus.

There have been at least 60 filmed adaptations of Shelley's 1818 book — perhaps the first true science-fiction novel— from the sublime (James Whale's 1935 The Bride of Frankenstein) to the silly (1973's Blackenstein). It's drawn the eye of filmmakers like Kenneth Branagh, Mel Brooks, Tim Burton, and Andy Warhol and captured the imagination of actors like Boris Karloff, Robert De Niro, Christopher Lee, and the great Clancy Brown, who've all played Frankenstein's Monster.

I think, however, you'd be hard-pressed to need two hands to count the number of truly excellent Frankenstein films. Heck, even just thoroughly entertaining ones. But why? What is it about the Frankenstein mythos that is so attractive and yet so frustrating? Is Victor so sterile as a protagonist — devoid of passions or obstacles that aren't directly related to his scientific pursuits — that he's just boring to watch? (Not for nothing has the creature become known as Frankenstein; the true bearer of the name is a bit of a pill.) Is it that the most interesting character — the Monster itself — doesn't show up until too late in the story? Is it that there are so few surprises, to a modern audience, that the tale just feels rote?

I don't know the answer. I wish I did, as then I'd be rich beyond the ken of mortal man. But the proof is in the undead pudding. I hope that Bekmambetov cracks the Frankenstein code: It's a shame that one of pop culture's most enduring characters doesn't have a film made in the last 70 years equal to his stature. - Marc Bernardin

Running out of "Movie Stars"

2010-03-30T13:22:00.001-07:00

One of the running gags at Saturday night’s 24th annual American Cinematheque Ball was how strange it was to be honoring a movie star who hasn’t yet cracked 40. “What can you say about Matt Damon that hasn’t been said about Brendan Fraser?” roasted Jimmy Kimmel. “You’re here tonight because were running out of stars.”

He’s right. Truth is, while plenty of older stars and filmmakers deserve awards like this (Clint Eastwood routinely turns them down), Matt Damon is one of the few movie stars with the stature to command the necessary support from the studios and agencies which must wrangle clips, buy tables, line up video tributes from such pals as George Clooney (who pretended to be undergoing a prostate exam), ex-president Bill Clinton (who lauded Damon’s humanitarian work for Haiti and Water.org), Ben Stiller, et al. Damon fit the bill perfectly, boasting two studios with Damon franchises. Universal (Bourne) and Warner Bros. (Oceans) both came through, along with the Weinstein Co., Morgan Creek and WME. The best footage came from Entourage (Damon hocks Chase for a big check) and Jimmy Kimmel (Sarah Silverman’s “I’m fucking Matt Damon!”). “The worst thing I could say is, you know, Matt Damon is like, maybe he’s a perfectionist,” said Silverman.

Casey Affleck was even funnier than brother Ben: “He’s always been a guy imagining that he was a movie star who pretends to be a good guy,” Affleck said, and then displayed a strategically doctored nude photo of Damon (small black rectangle) and himself (large black rectangle). Damon turned beet red.

Among the few folks who stayed dignified in the roast atmosphere were Clint Eastwood, who directed Damon in Invictus (for which he earned a supporting actor Oscar nomination) and the upcoming Hereafter, and Paul Greengrass, who flew in from London to make the Bourne clip intro.

Damon pointed out in his hilarious acceptance speech that whenever he cracked Green Zone jokes, everyone laughed except the studio suits at the Universal table. As Damon talked about first meeting Clinton during Good Will Hunting (for which he and Ben Affleck won the screenplay Oscar), he nailed his impersonation of the president. Robin Williams thanked Damon and Affleck for giving him his “Oscar moment.”

Long-time Affleck/Damon mentor Harvey Weinstein warmly greeted the duo with a bear hug. He recently bought Affleck’s next, Company Men, and told me one of the other TWC movies he’s high on is Butter, starring Jennifer Garner.

Affleck’s wife introduced her husband as “half of one of the greatest love stories ever told, not with me,” she said, reminding that Affleck and Damon grew up together and still talk incessantly about the Red Sox. Damon’s “hetero life-mate” Affleck added that he was not receiving this award, but presenting it to the guy who would soon be playing Liberace’s boyfriend. “As some of you may know, I started out at the same time as the guy.”

In this terrific Q & A with Damon, he talks about working with the Coens on True Grit, why he and Affleck made their deal at Warner Bros., why he didn’t make Avatar and how much he looks forward to directing. In that arena, at least, Affleck is ahead of him: Damon said he has seen The Town, which Affleck directs and stars. “It’s amazing,” he said.

Whats Really Funny Anymore?

2010-03-28T22:17:00.000-07:00

Annie Hall opens with a great joke, "two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." No set up whatsoever, all you have is Woody Allen staring at you as if you met him at a party and he slings a zinger at you trying to win you over in order for you to hang out with him for the rest of the night.

And it works, you are enamored with the charm and the wit of this man that you can't help but wait to hear what he has in store for you in the course of two hours. And where does the charm come from? Yes the joke is funny in its own right but there is something in it that lures you into the humorous anecdote. And I think that I found out what it is and it took me nearly a year to figure it out.

It's that it is clean.

No sexual innuendos, no crass language nothing that implies any type of filth in it. Now far be it from me to be demean any writer who uses language in their dialogue to emphasis a joke, which is what those words are supposed to do. And I admit that I do love the expletives in several exchanges in some of my favorite movies and plays. George Carlin, God bless him, became famous on the words that too taboo to say on TV.

Martin McDonagh has implemented choice words and phrases in his pieces that truly fit the characters and allow the language to roll off of the actors tongues as if it was apart of the Bard. And its damn funny, as seen in a dialogue example from "In Bruges"

Ken: Harry, let's face it. And I'm not being funny. I mean no disrespect, but you're a cunt. You're a cunt now, and you've always been a cunt. And the only thing that's going to change is that you're going to be an even bigger cunt. Maybe have some more cunt kids.
Harry: [furious] Leave my kids fucking out of it! What have they done? You fucking retract that bit about my cunt fucking kids!
Ken: I retract that bit about your cunt fucking kids.
Harry: Insult my fucking kids? That's going overboard, mate!
Ken: I retracted it, didn't I?

The sincerity of the lines from Ken, as crass as they are, are validated cause he is genuinely trying to give an honest opinion. And the humor comes out of the fact that Harry doesn't even defend the fact that his kids are "cunts" but that he would rather leave them out of the argument in order to make a point.

In movies nowadays you hardly are able to get a great bit of dialogue without the gross out toilet humor that we frequently see in the "Scary Movie" franchise or "Superbad" which brings me to the thought that some writers are sacrificing good jokes with just toilet humor in order to garner a laugh.

The Marx Brothers themselves were able to use simple jokes in order to distinguish themselves as a great comedians such as:

"Last night I shot an elephant in my pajamas, what he was doing in my pajamas I don't have the slightest idea."

I think I am able to respect people who are able to use clean dialogue to make me laugh. It requires someone with great comedic timing and charm in order to make something so simple seem so funny.

Which allows me analyze why recent films use dirty language blanketed in "fucks" "shits" and "cocks" that have been layered throughout the movie "Cop Out" and several others ones through the recent year. And it all comes down to one thing, cheating.

"Cheating" in my sense of the word when it comes to writing is when a writer bombards their scenes that are comedic with the language that we are often so fond of. It shocks the audience into an uncomfortable position that they have no other choice but to laugh. Its definitely a cop out. Speaking of which lets examine a scene when a grown man interrogates a ten year old kid from the movie "Cop Out"

Paul Hodges: Now we need to know about the Mercedez
[Jimmy looks on with a grin]
Paul Hodges: that was stolen a couple o' nights ago, in the back of a Mini-Mart, in Bay Ridge!
Tommy: I ain't tellin' you shit! You can't DO shit, cause I'm a miiiinor
Jimmy Monroe: Heh heh heh heh
Tommy: Fuck you too, Professor Ass-Licking Mother Fucker!
Jimmy Monroe: You are an angry young man.
Tommy: Yo, you're messin' with my business, bitch.
Paul Hodges: Whose car is this?
Tommy: Yo Momma's!

I am not too sure but when I look at this exchange it kind of irks me that the laughs seem manufactured and it is just the product of lazy writing. Not to mention the topical mention 'yo momma' as a slam, man I remember the 90's too. The dialogue results in not only a frustration with the characters but also a frustration with the audience and not in a good way. This scene has the potential to be funny, the scenario itself is ripe for comedy and could be lengthened to a much more than a minute and a half.

The possibilities of great comedy are there in the premise but they are diluted with language that lowers the scene, the comedy and the actors themselves on an entirely different level. The result of a badly written comedic scene can only be blamed on the poor taste of the writers and the laziness of the production company for not being able to see the apathetic approach to making a good comedy.

There aren't really too many incarnations of previous classical comedy writers such as Woody Allen or Steve Martin, the only ones that I can specifically point out now are Tina Fey and Ricky Gervais. Their use of comedy is poignant and presented in a pleasant way that doesn't make you feel like you need to take a shower immediately after watching one of their shows.

I just hope that in the end the audiences are able to find the humor in alot of the intelligent dialogue of what the joke can be and not just the words that emphasis the scene.

Hollywood tells Directors "You want to direct this movie? You’re doing it in 3D, motherfucker!"

2010-03-23T23:28:00.000-07:00

The aforementioned quote is from James Cameron who describes Hollywood executives' current attitude toward their big money generating tentpole films. Cameron, along with Michael Bay, features in a rather lengthy and somewhat depressing Deadline Hollywood piece about 3D in which the directors continue to slam 2D to 3D conversion.

First up, Michael Bay is apparently under pressure from Paramount Pictures who want him to 3D-ify his forthcoming "Tranformers 3." The director, who did some initial test shooting with 3D cameras but decided they were too heavy for the kind of work he generally does, isn't sold on the conversion process: "I am trying to be sold, and some companies are still working on the shots I gave them. Right now, it looks like fake 3D, with layers that are very apparent. You go to the screening room, you are hoping to be thrilled, and you’re thinking, huh, this kind of sucks. People can say whatever they want about my movies, but they are technically precise, and if this isn’t going to be excellent, I don’t want to do it. And it is my choice.” Regarding that last statement, it will be interesting to see who blinks first between Bay and the studio.

Bay goes on to say what we've been saying all along, "This conversion process is always going to be inferior to shooting in real 3D. Studios might be willing to sacrifice the look and use the gimmick to make $3 more a ticket, but I’m not. Avatar took four years. You can’t just shit out a 3D movie. I’m saying, the jury is still out.”

As for Cameron, who conveniently leaves out the fact that's converting "Titanic," he says, "Now, you’ve got people quickly converting movies from 2D to 3D, which is not what we did. They’re expecting the same result, when in fact they will probably work against the adoption of 3D because they’ll be putting out an inferior product.”

Not only that, the director is worried about virgin 3D directors and is offering his services as a "crisis counselor to any director who asks." Cameron even goes so far as to suggest that Marc Webb, who he was rumored to be meeting with, had 3D shoved into his lap for the "Spiderman" reboot, "Sony says, we’re doing Spider-Man in 3D.’ The director doesn’t say, `Hey, I want to make the movie in 3D.’ The studio says, `You want to direct this movie? You’re doing it in 3D, motherfucker!' That’s not how it should be."

So just what upcoming films are being considered for 3D? "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides," "The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader," "Gulliver’s Travels" and "The Hobbit" are among those being eyed. For the latter, director Guillermo Del Toro is apparently leaning on going 2D but Warner Bros. want to pump as much money out of the franchise as possible and the decision on whether or not 3D-ify the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy will depend on "The Hobbit" decision as they don't want Del Toro's film to appear as being visually inferior.

We can't really say we're surprised by any of this, but if "Alice In Wonderland" is any indication -- taking the top spot at the box office three weeks straight -- audiences don't care about craft. And as long as audiences keep making 3D converted films tops at the box office, studios will keep shoving them down our throat. - Kevin Jagernauth: The Playlist

Silence in Films

2010-03-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

With our fast paced world of quick thoughts and quicker words, we often find ourselves lost. We live in jump cuts and sudden, unexpected thrills. Meanwhile losing a handle of the most important things in life. What are these important things? Well there are the certain contenders such as family and relationships in general. However, the one I chose to outline over here is the beauty of silence. In the cluttered world we live in we barely get a chance to breathe and see the world for what it has become. Rarely do we listen to silence anymore and ingest moments from the day.

You wake up with the radio, move into traffic, travel through coffee shops with lines on either ends, and finally end up at your work place with clutter and more clutter. You come home and check your favorite blogs and your facebook page. You didn't get to sit down and think did you? People don't get to do much of that. It sounds like a guitar thats been strung to death. Yes we know you have complaints against the importance of silence and solitude.

Well not quite. It's your life isn't it? I rather not tell you what to do. Though I am a film maker and I find it necessary to write a blurb about the silence in film. back in the day when things were calmer and people had longer attention spans there were moments in film that developed forever. Now if there isn't a cut in less than thirty seconds we feel as if the film has gone on too long. What the audience seems to be looking for these days is a montage that outlines developments in a plot, rather than scenes.

There is the physical development of a plot, and than there is the emotional development. People seem to completely forget the second aspect of it. Think back to the days before texts and chats, those past versions of ourselves use to sit and talk. Weather it was something insignificant or something as serious as a confession of love.

Scenes in a film represent scenes from life. The day you got courage to say "I love you" to her, wasn't cut into fifty pieces before the three minute conversation was over. There are the awkward pauses, the moments when nerves get the better of you, and more. All this has to take time to develop. A good director knows when his audience needs a second to ingest a tough scene.

Girl asks for a divorce, the guy is taken back by the unexpected moment. The audience needs a second to realize what has happened. The film, the plot, the character needs that extra few seconds. Hence, the importance of silence. Silence is crucial in film. A writer writes dialogue and hands it to a director, trusting that the director along with his actors, will be able to figure out the dramatic beats to conversations. It is this silence that makes everything in life more real.

Action packed films are made more interesting with those moments and dramas cannot breathe without them. Every beat of silence makes the audience ever so eager to get the outcome. The best thrillers entirely depend on these moments of silence and non action, to jolt the audience, with the next bit of trickery. It's something that every filmmaker should be aware of.

Never underestimate the importance of silence.

Mother: Reviewed

2010-03-20T19:34:00.000-07:00

The films of the South Korean director Bong Joon-Ho operate like slyly constructed Rube Goldberg machines. His 2007 The Host, which made my list of 10 best films for that year, was a Godzilla-style monster movie that popped open to reveal a ghost story and a touching family drama hidden inside. Now, there's Mother, a Hitchcock-ian murder mystery that unfolds into a maternal melodrama worthy of Joan Crawford, shot through with bursts of black humor. Bong's ability to sustain three or four different tones in one movie without betraying the emotional truth of the story is nothing short of amazing: He can pat his head, rub his stomach, and break our hearts all at the same time.

Do-Joon (Won Bin) is a man in his late 20s who still lives, and shares a bed, with his widowed mother Hye-ja (Kim Hye-Ja) in a rural Korean town. The virginal, goofy Do-Joon is mildly mentally handicapped, but don't call him "retarded"—he'll fly into a rage and deck you with a Bruce Lee-style karate kick. Because of his friendship with a local hood, Jin-Tae (Jin Gu), Do-Joon sometimes gets in minor trouble with the police, but when he's accused of murdering a teenage girl, the whole town is shocked. The night of the murder, Do-Joon was so drunk that he can't provide a reasonable alibi, and a golf ball signed with his name is found next to the body. Confused and intimidated by the cops, Do-Joon signs a confession even as he maintains his innocence and is sent to jail to await sentencing. His mother sets out on a mission to clear her boy's name, teaming up with one of her acupuncture clients to investigate the background of the murdered girl, who, as it turns out, was part of a schoolgirl prostitution ring.

Mother is a weird wild ride of a film, one that asks the viewer over and over again to let go of the movie we thought we were watching. As the twisty plot progresses, with the night of the murder returning in flashback from various witnesses' points of view, the audience's sense of security starts to unravel: Can we trust the mother? Can we trust the son? Can they trust each other? Kim Hye-ja is both funny and fearsome as the unyielding, overprotective, eventually near-deranged mother, and Won Bin, a former teen heartthrob in Korea, pulls off the difficult task of showing a simpleton's hidden depths. The movie's final image echoes its opening one: Hye-ja, the primal mother, dances, first alone, then absorbed into an ecstatic crowd. It's a fitting coda for a movie that begins as a comedy, segues into a murder mystery, and builds to an emotional catharsis that's reminiscent of Greek tragedy. - Dana Stevens

The Movie Studios' Big 3D Scam

2010-03-16T13:00:00.000-07:00

Are we ready for 3D? As CG supervisor and avid moviegoer, I'm sad to say that I'm not convinced we are. Yet. And the worse is yet to come, as studios try to milk us all for these half-baked goods.
The only time that I have felt it was worth it was Avatar and even then I wanted to yank the damn thick-rimmed glasses off my face every 3 minutes.

The good Avatar 3D experience happened because James Cameron is a technically savvy director, and thus the 3D aspect of Avatar was technically well executed. When done right it allows the viewer to more seamlessly enjoy a 3D film. Done poorly and all it does is get in the way. One of the reasons I'm not digging it is that many of the stereoscopic movies have been made 3D after they were shot, which can cause heaps of distractions in the final product. Even if the film was originally shot 3D it takes someone knowledgeable in the field to make it effective. Decisions on convergence between the left and right eyes are just as much a part of the visual storytelling as lens choices, lighting, rack focusing, etc. If you overlook that you get a sloppy 3D experience. 

The problem with fake 3D

The process of making a movie 3D after it was shot is a complicated and time consuming process but can be somewhat convincing. The problem is it will never reflect the same results as if you were filming using two cameras, simultaneously, from slightly different perspectives. Endless rotoscoping provides layers that can be separated to fake a different perspective for the second eye, but that's what it looks like, layers. So yes, you can push things away and pull things forward and enhance the depth, but the content within each layer has no depth. We use our eyes everyday and whether you know the geek stuff or not it's just not what we are used to seeing. The stereo technicians involved in bringing the images to us in 3D in the best possible way have their hands tied in some ways, they're not often working with two true perspectives. 

The problem is it's expensive and difficult to do it right. Double the camera gear means double the footage and often doubling the camera crew. It also doubles much of the visual effects work as you have to render everything twice. A lot of the old gags we once used to do our "movie magic" no longer work in stereo films.

But what you get is the real thing, a true stereo view of everything in the frame. Just like a director or cinematographer chooses to focus the camera to direct the viewers eye you must make the same decisions in 3D to direct the convergence of the two eyes. Not doing this right (or having to do it with a faked perspective in the second eye) is like overlooking composition or sound design, it's crummy movie making.

Avatar hit this right. They shot it stereo and kept all the depth within screen like it was a window into another world and never tried to wow you with shoving stuff into the theater at you. When you bring elements of the image into the room you run into the problem of the edge of frame cropping the content. During the end titles for Alice In Wonderland they created a false black edge to the screen so that when content did break frame and bring things into the theater they weren't cut off. But this isn't an option for the duration of the movie unless you're willing to give up valuable screen space. IMAX helps relieve this by filling your field of view but we are all far from having IMAX theaters at every cinema and you still have a limited view from within the frame of the glasses.

Milking the 3D cow

This problem will get even worse when you all get sucked into buying a 3D TV for your living room where the size of the screen fills even less of your view. And now there's talk on the rumor mill of re-releasing Titanic in 3D? Watch out for a flood of classics being shoved down the fake stereoscopic pipeline and into your Blu-ray player for an extra $10. Hopefully Cameron will continue to help set a higher standard.

And there's the final nail in this absurd 3D show: The eyeglasses. Simply, watching a $200+ million dollar movie with $.03 crappy plastic glasses is just silly. They are not only optically poor but they take almost a full stop of light out of the image. That's almost half the amount of light! None of the prints or projectors I have seen 3D movies in properly compensate to counteract that loss of light. When I saw Alice In Wonderland at one of the industry screenings—where you think it would be dialed in just right—the image was still painfully dark. The situation in a majority of theaters out there is as bad or worse. - Alexander Murphy (io9)

400 Screens, 400 Blows - Distribution Blues

2010-03-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

You go to the multiplex and scan through all of the titles and decide that there's "nothing good." And sometimes it's true. If only there was a multiplex that let you decide from among all the movies in the world. If viewers knew the number of titles that never make it to the United States, their heads would spin. And you might assume that we get the "best" of all the films, but that's not necessarily true. Some of the greatest cinema masters in the world have trouble finding distribution here. Their films are not easily marketed, and probably not worth the financial risk, even if the rewards would be far greater than financial.

Right now we have one to celebrate: Alexander Sokurov's The Sun (3 screens) very recently snagged U.S. distribution, even though it was made all the way back in 2005. (I reviewed it for Cinematical back in 2006.) Sokurov earned some distinction and a minor arthouse hit with his Russian Ark (2002), which was filmed in a single shot. But aside from that feat, Sokurov is a wonderful filmmaker with a very vivid, painterly style, whose first major films were made in the early 1990s. Ironically, The Sun is the third part of a trilogy about world dictators, the first two parts of which did not get distribution (though the second film, Moloch, is on DVD).

In the 1990s, the Taiwanese filmmaker Hou Hsiao-hsien was roundly declared the greatest filmmaker in the world. He had been working since the early 1980s, and critics discovered him in the mid-1980s. He kept getting better and better, culminating with masterworks like The Puppetmaster (1993) and Flowers of Shanghai (1998). Yet to date only three of his 18 films have received theatrical distribution in the United States. The first two made it because they starred Shu Qi -- otherwise known as that hot chick from The Transporter (2002) -- and Flight of the Red Balloon, which contained Juliette Binoche's finest performance to date.

Unfortunately not even a star is a guarantee of distribution. The latest film from great Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr, the wonderful The Man from London, has still not seen U.S. theaters, despite the presence of Oscar-winner Tilda Swinton. And even a recent film from the old-time French New Wave director Jacques Rivette, The Story of Marie and Julien, went straight to DVD even though it starred the exquisitely gorgeous Emmanuelle Beart.

Two of the top rated filmmakers of the 2000s, Pedro Costa from Portugal and Hong Sang-soo from Korea, did not have a single film distributed, even though they earned some of the most enthusiastic acclaim of any filmmakers during the past ten years. Some of Hong's movies made it to DVD in the past couple of years, but trying to find anything by Costa, even if you had an all-region DVD player, was frustratingly futile. Happily, the Criterion Collection will distribute a trio of Costa films on DVD in just a few weeks. (Colossal Youth is picture above.)

Many American journalists have traveled abroad or attended film festivals, have seen movies by these filmmakers, and have managed to draw some attention to them, but even that is just a drop in the ocean. It's mind-bending to think of the brand-new masterworks out there that we will never see. - Jeffrey Anderson

Hate Filled A-Holes of the day: Proposed Law would deny Tax Breaks to Films that feature Gay Characters

2010-03-10T08:23:00.000-08:00

Well, our hopes for a sequel to The Birdcage just got dampened. That's because a new bill that increases tax incentives to lure television and movie production to Florida would deny those tax breaks to films that feature gay characters. And unlike the ultraconservative Republican politician in The Birdcage, it doesn't seem the bill's sponsor, Rep. Stephen Precourt, will have a change of heart anytime soon.

Current laws prevent tax breaks for films that feature smoking, sex, nudity, or profane language. The proposed changes make Florida guidelines seem even more like the Hays Code that censored Hollywood from the the '30s to the '60s. Thankfully, Precourt hasn't borrowed more ideas from that censorship office and written in language that would also disallow interracial relationships, suggestive dancing, and "lustful kisses."

"Precourt says he's not targeting the gay community but that shows with gay characters would not be something he'd want 'to invest public dollars in,' " reports the Associated Press.

Besides not offering tax breaks to films that "exhibit or implied act" of nontraditional family values, films with gratuitous violence would also be left out.

In recent years, Florida has slipped from third in the country in terms of film production, only behind California and New York, to out of the top ten. Other states have aggressively offered more generous tax credits.

Recently, the cast and crew of the show Burn Notice, one of the few TV shows to actually shoot in Florida, lobbied the legislature to increase tax incentives for show business productions. They claim they've paid nearly $25 million in wages to Floridians and booked more than 7,000 nights in hotel rooms during the shooting of the show. The show received about $5.2 million in tax breaks last fiscal year but could find itself out of luck depending on how the "gratuitous violence" clause is interpreted and wouldn't be free to introduce LGBT characters.

The bill, which also has a companion bill in the Senate, still has to go through various committees before it reaches the House floor. - Kyle Munzenrieder

Are You Weird Because You Don't Like The Godfather?

2010-03-05T14:06:00.000-08:00

We love watching films. We love taking out the time and experiencing a reality that we haven't experienced before. Now the key to creating that reality obviously is to ground it in something that we have experienced before. The everyday speech patterns, occurrences, and blunders make a film beautiful. Heroism and cowardice exist in everyday life and it is these acts magnified that make the spectacle. Now the question we must ask ourselves is where does our interest lie. Why do we watch films? The answer should be different for everyone that ventures into that question, barring the obvious facts of attraction.

The subject became ever so demanding when a few friends decided to arrange movie night. What is it about wednesdays that leads to such activities? So the four of us sat down and started to decipher our tastes in film. Most of us agreed to watch the classics, to better aquatint ourselves with the art of film. And than there was Hasburger (not the real name). Hasburger's tastes vary quite a bit. He doesn't agree with a lot of the classics. He doesn't care for Sean Penn, Woody Allen, Jack Nicholson and more in the category. He also has certain questionable (by me) taste in films.

Who doesn't like Good Will Hunting? Scratch that, Who in this world doesn't like, nay love The Godfather? I guess Ciudad de Deus (City of God) could go either way, even though I don't know how that is possible. Not everything I love has to be loved by there rest of the world. But I thought there were certain films that everyone had to love. Then again we wouldn't be human if we all loved the same things.

So what is it that draws us to films? The question that has been ailing studios for decades, and publishers for centuries. But we all have always known the answer to that. It's good stories. Blahh. What does that mean? Good stories are telling of the human condition, the struggles and more. It is these stories that make us see ourselves in these extravagantly constructed lives.

Now after a few hours of ideas we were able to come up with certain genres that we can agree on. Anything that has to do with Sci-fi or Samurai's is something that he would be interested in. Which again made me think. Do movies only appeal to us when it boils down to our personal likes and dislikes. I didn't care for Midnight Cowboy too much, perhaps because the subject matter didn't please me much. I loved Seventh Seal, but then again I'm a sucker for philosophy.

An acquaintance of mine recently decided to lecture me on films. He hates the likes of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. He says that they are not real. He doesn't quite grasp that it is the fictional construct of these fantasy lands that help glorify the human traits that are so necessary for any good film. He even went as far as to say "Hurt Locker, what is that? That's not real. That's Afghanistan." Needless to say the comment had us screaming with laughter. Though his choices brought up a good point. The man loves math and science. He is a business man and he thrives on perfect equations. It made sense that he didn't love the venture into the land of imagination and make believe. He is a realist.

Just like Hasburger who is a gamer and has developed affections towards the worlds that exceed reality. He appreciates well made films, however almost alway they have to go through the filter of his existing likes, that surpass the film world. He associates with the creation of other worlds because to him these worlds are quite normal. They are not superstitious at all, they are a part of his every day reality.

Same goes with actors. Most of the ones I know tend to favor strong performances. They love to see the world created through emotions and they love to see their counter parts raise up a storm. Directors look for well shot sequences in the films, writers favor plot points. So on and so forth. Everyone seems to have a filter of their own. It's not necessarily a good versus bad filter, rather its a very personal biased filter. Things that are a part of your everyday life, the comfort zone if you may call it, become a major part of this filter.

Now that brings up a more interesting thought. Do critics have the same filters? Absolutely. They have the same filters and often their filters are biased in somewhat of a similar way seeing that most of them have been watching movies for a while, and have lived a similar life to their counterparts. Makes you think if we wouldn't be better off getting a Plumber, a Mechanic, a Soldier, and an Athiest to be the judging panel for a film's well being. At least there is diversity there. Sure they wouldn't admire the art of film as a well taught critic. But films are not made to serve the critics, are they? they are for the mass audiences.

So I shall go out on a limb and say: chances are that films about labour unions would appeal to factory workers, films about prisons would appeal to those incarcerated, and films about sports would appeal to athletes. Now that is not to say that the rest of us can't appreciate a true struggle of an athlete to become the best he can be, because we are all trying to do that in our own fields, or can at least admire it. It just means that an athlete may connect to it on a different level. Just like Hasburger loves well created worlds that let you escape from the constricting reality that we abide in.

We all have biases. The festivals have their biases. The academy theirs. You rarely, if ever see a comedy nominated for a best picture award. These biases are real, and to undermine them is folly. To understand them is impossible. However, to accept them is perhaps the sanest way to live. You have to find your own taste and hope you find people that share it. Chances are you will never find a perfect match, otherwise it would be love wouldn't it. Maybe my next article will be about how to find the love of your life through ten simple films. Stay tuned.

Down the Rabbit Hole with Alice

2010-03-03T10:26:00.000-08:00

When a film transgresses from reality to find a fictional, shall we say dreamlike, world to tell of the human condition, it almost always is a struggle. First there are many who rather see a work of realistic fiction, second it's almost impossible to strike a balance at any given time. The worlds collide and the audience either finds itself too much in the wraps of things or too little. Now a good film leaves you wanting to explore the world further, but it also gives you the satisfaction in this trip. Yes the gondola ride could have been longer, but nonetheless you found it very satisfying.

Pan's Labyrinth wove an intricate association between the two worlds as the audience travels from one to the other. There was a delicate balance and a heavy correlation between the two. It made sense and more so helped the story along. It changed the way the audience perceived this little girls world. Like most often it was a story of growth of realization, about dreams and their relation to day to day life. There were always subtle visual techniques that brought the two worlds in sync even when we were in the realm of reality.

Hollywood has always somewhat leaned towards fantasy (Sci-fi being a part of it). Though it seems that recently they have taken a more realistic turn into the magical realm. It pays the same dues as Sci-fi by creating real human characters that suffer the faiths that we all do, in a different light. The struggle of heroism in day to day situations, or the struggle against ones self as our perceptions of the world fall by the way side.

It is perhaps the escapist aspect of these stories that give the audience that much desired pathos. Being caught in an unreal world when the current one might pose too many real problems gives the audience a chance to breathe. The stories of Avatar are widely relatable. They have been seen and heard numbers times. However, you regenerate them in a fictional world that draws the viewer in, and you have the master piece.

Alice in Wonderland is another one of these stories. It is the key that unlocks most of them. It is the reference that we use for every other story. Statements like "down the rabbit hole," originate in the world where Alice literally takes the plunge. So yes when you see it, it might seem a bit used but it is original. The recent release with Johnny Depp again tries to capture that lightning in the bottle; that Pan's Labyrinth did so well and others fail to do immensely over and over again.

Alice does what every one of the sub real films should do extremely well. It creates a fictional world but gives the characters real motives. Makes them question the meaning of love, destiny, and faith. The over arching theme, used many times before, is that one cannot escape their destiny. Now the beauty of the film is that ever scene makes you question if that is the theme. The events unfold and they seem to take wings.

This is not to say that Alice in Wonderland is a flawless film. It has its ups and downs. Yet for what it is, it is something worth watching and worth admiring. It delvers a beautiful, talented young actress, with a well matured cast such as Johnny Depp and Helena Carter. Every character is carefully conceived with an interesting back story. It tries to avoid cliches and reinvents them when they do come up. There is no doubt about the fact that the source material helped the creators of the film, but there are many novels turned films that are absolutely horrendous.

The ending is a bit contrived, though everything else seems to coexist in its own harmony. Above all the characters seem real. They have their moments of constraints and their moments of liberation. They find themselves in binds and find ways out in unique fashion. They reinvent themselves over and over until their destinies are achieved. There are lines that repeat themselves and there are thoughts that string together to form this film.

By contrast a film like Immaginarium of Dr. Pernasus suffered from its lack of coherency and its attempt to tackle themes bigger then itself. Though it does cary a larger than life cast, the film seems to fail in its attempt to create something magnificent. It brings up philosophical thoughts but leaves them unfinished. A film of this nature does not need to be high in philosophy, rather it has to complete the ones that it does chose to tackle.

Heath Ledger's death during the filming couldn't have been much of a help. Though it still seems that the story could have been salvaged to a certain degree. Since it is a film about dreams, it could have found its way to a better conclusion. Fortune has it that it didn't and Terry Gilliam found his post Monty Python adventure a bit stale.

It is always hard to draw that line between everyday life and dream. The best ones are when the elements of real life are clear in the dream. Because when we dream we dream of real emotions and real events happening in obstructed setting and disheveled orders. Dreams are surreal, they give you a world that is hard to understand, but they give you emotions that are anything but.

Alice in Wonderland finds its marks and hits them very well. It marries the realm of fantasy beautifully with true human emotions. It does fail to break the mold completely, which would have made it a great film. Yet, it fills the mold perfectly and therefore creates a film that is definitely worth a repeat watch. The conception the creation, the nuances and the not so subtle outburst of visuals, make it a wondrous film to experience.

What Will The Post-Lost, Post-Heroes Era Look Like?

2010-03-02T15:33:00.000-08:00

Two genre TV shows really broke out of the pack and captured the popular imagination in the past half-decade: Lost and Heroes. They both showed how genre TV can rule the DVR era. What's going to happen when they're gone?

We still don't know, of course, if we've seen the last of Heroes. It could come back, either in the fall or in January, but if it does, it'll likely be some kind of "final chapter" miniseries, wrapping the show up. Whether we get to see Sylar channeling Daniel Day Lewis in The Unbearable Lightness Of Being one more time, though, it feels like the era of Lost and Heroes is coming to an end with this TV season.
It's hard to remember now, but there was a time when Heroes was up there with Lost, and both shows were among the dozen or so most discussed series on television. Heroes' first season was a phenomenon, for similar reasons to Lost's success — a sprawling family drama, dark mysteries and unpredictable characters (like HRG and Clyde).

Both shows managed to thrive, in the era of TiVo, by being watercooler viewing. If you missed the newest episode of Lost or Heroes, you'd have to listen to your coworkers talking about it the next day. The challenge of DVR viewing is especially huge for shows that capture a large nerd audience, probably because nerds are early adopters. I always think it's funny when TV execs tout the large numbers of people who watch their shows via DVR after the fact — sure, it adds to the overall number of viewers. But when genre shows have large numbers of late DVR viewers, that's not good news. It means those shows aren't addictive enough to be same-night viewing.

(And also, of course, the "watercooler" thing is probably way less effective for shows that air on Friday nights, in which case you have until Monday to watch them, even assuming your coworkers are going to talk about them anyway.)

In the past half dozen years, a lot of other shows have had strong opening weeks — followed by sharp drop-offs. I've argued before that science fiction movies and TV shows show the same pattern, in fact. A blockbuster opening weekend, fueled by buzz and spectacle, and then catastrophic drops in successive weeks. SF shows with record-breaking huge pilot ratings have included Bionic Woman, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, FlashForward and V. Pilot episodes tend to be mini-movies, too, directed by actual film directors or hired-gun pilot directors, and featuring huge special effects budgets. It's always a bit of a letdown when a show settles into its normal pattern of smaller-scale adventures, after a huge blockbuster pilot.

By contrast, Heroes started off with 14 million viewers, and then actually built up to 16 million viewers over the course of the fall. By the time its first season finale aired, it had softened slightly, but still managed to score close to 14 million viewers. Season two bowed to nearly 17 million viewers and managed to hold on to 11 million of them.

And Lost launched with nearly 19 million viewers, garnering 23.5 million viewers for its second season premiere. As recently as season four, it was garnering 17 million viewers, and the final season premiere won an impressive 14 million viewers.

With both these shows gone, there'll be no model on television for how a science-fiction show can gain a mass audience and sustain it over weeks and years.

So how did Lost and Heroes buck the trend and convince those 17 million Americans they were must-watch TV? A few things suggest themselves: They're both shows about ordinary people in an extraordinary situation. They don't try to adapt the "police procedural/CSI" model to science fiction — as so many other shows have tried to do. The characters aren't experts, and in fact they usually know less than the audience does. (I think this might be key for the "water cooler" factor, actually.)

Instead, both shows are what you might call "paranormal soap operas." (I'm using the word "paranormal" loosely here.) As I mentioned above, there are sprawling family sagas in both shows — in fact, they both feature a blonde illegitimate daughter who unknowingly meets her bio-dad's family. There are also mysteries within mysteries — remember when we were dead curious about the shadowy "Linderman" on Heroes, before we found out it was just Malcolm McDowell being campy? — and characters whose allegiances were unclear.

The tone and composition of the shows varied a lot — Lost was a good deal darker and more literary than Heroes turned out to be, and tough guys like Jack, Sawyer and Locke turned out to be a lot more watchable than the mom-obsessed Petrelli boys. But it does seem significant that the two most successful SF shows of the past six years follow a soap-opera model. You can see why, with the success of shows like CSI, the idea of a CSI-X-Files hybrid might have felt like a no-brainer. But in practice, it seems like TV audiences only want to watch experts at work in a few very specific contexts, like hospitals and crime labs.

So what will the post-Lost/Heroes era look like? We posted a list of 18 upcoming shows that could be the next big thing, but many people seem to think it'll be a bit of a wasteland. In any case, the end of Lost, in particular, will leave a huge vacuum. At some point, the wheel will turn again and one of the "big four" broadcast networks will be willing to take a chance on another potential juggernaut.

What will the next Lost or Heroes look like? It's always hard to predict these things, of course. But there are a few possibilities:

1) Another sticky soap opera about ordinary people to whom weird shit happens. I'm racking my brains — has anybody actually launched a show that meets this description since Lost and Heroes? I guess FlashForward tried to do that — but the soap-opera elements have felt like weak tea, and "FBI agents investigating weird shit" isn't really the same as "ordinary people who get swept up in weird shit."

2) A show about a single ordinary person who gets swept into an extraordinary world could also work. But I feel like Bionic Woman met that description, and the new Jaime Sommers wound up just feeling like a tool of the mysterious organization, and she also stopped feeling like an ordinary person pretty quickly. I would imagine that's a peril of the "single ordinary person in an extraordinary world" format.

3) Something that capitalizes on the success of the other geek-oriented show to build an audience in recent years: The Big Bang Theory. From around 8 million viewers in its first season and 10 million in its second, the nerd-comedy show has been getting up to 16 million viewers lately. If someone finds a way to do a version of Big Bang that includes more overtly science-fictional elements mixed in with the nerd humor, it could be equally huge.

There's one thing that won't give us the next mega-hit, I feel confident in saying: A show about FBI agents investigating stuff. If a duo of FBI agents were going to be the next Jack Shephard and John Locke, then it would have happened by now. And if the "CSI-meets-X-Files" thing was going to bear fruit, then Fringe, a truly excellent show, would be getting 15 million viewers a week.
But it's entirely likely the next huge genre mega-success on television will be just as unexpected and hard to predict as Lost and Heroes both were. Let's hope it's as great as both shows were in their heyday. - Charlie Jane Anders

Remakes, The Ultimate Nightmare

2010-02-27T16:34:00.001-08:00

Thursday was the premier of the new trailer for the remake/re imagining of "Nightmare on Elm Street" from the company Platinum Dunes, who in the past several years have brought us the remakes of classic horror films no one asked for, so far they have chalked up "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" "Friday the 13th", "The Hitcher" and "The Amityville Horror" to their list of franchises that they feel need to be updated. In my personal opinion I have never really had any intention to watch any of these remakes for fear that they would tarnish the memories I have of the originals scaring the cum outta me.

Since the premier of the new trailer for NOES I have watched it at least three times. The reason being that there is something in this film that peaks the interests of mine and reminds me of the attitude I had when I was thirteen years old when I watched the original, even before I saw it when I was a little kid I remember being afraid of this charred and scarred character before even being formally introduced to him thanks to home video.

Since then, I have been intrigued with the story of Freddy Krueger, of course as the years and sequels and ridiculous puns, jokes, comebacks, "Now I'm Playing With Power!" (NOES: Freddy's Dead) have gone by there really hasn't been a real memorable NOES except for the original and a GREAT follow up that took nearly ten years to make with "Wes Cravens New Nightmare"

Why is the new "Nightmare on Elm Street" different for me?

It all comes down to origins of the character and the story..and no I am not proposing a prequel to when Freddy was a custodial engineer (or a janitor if you wanna be a dick about it) at a school in Springwood.

I am talking about the real reasons as to why Wes Craven had done the original. Now the story goes that a group of Cambodian refugees from Hmong tribe to escape Pol Pots Khmer Rouge to seek refuge in the United States. Once they fled they began to have horrific nightmares and refused to sleep, and once succumbing to the exhaustion and eventually falling asleep, the refuges would wake up screaming and would immediately die. The total number of people who had suffered from this and eventually die was three.

These instances would be documented in an article by the LA Times during the early 80's, which were read by Wes Craven and thus the idea of being subject to harm by something created in your dreams enticed him to write "A Nightmare on Elm Street" and from that a franchise was born.

Now, how can a horrible thing that has happened in Cambodia translate into an American horror movie, simple. The movie itself lends itself to the negligence of parents to their calls and cries for help from their kids. Their constant shrugs off of the teens desperate calls for help were merely overlooked as "teenage drama" and Craven captured how parents pay little attention to their children.

Now with this being said it raises the fear of thinking that the world that you are able to create inside of your dreams could in fact harm you and quite possibly lead to your death. And to me thinking that some of the things that I dream about nightly could kill me leads me to the validated fear that my own phobias and scenarios that I can conjure up in my own brain were lethal. And to know that you are your own worst enemy is frightening on its own.

And that's what makes this movie so much different and eccentric than "Friday The 13th". The Voorhees saga of blood and brutality followed the predictable formula of chase hot slutty teens and inflict carnage on a monumental scale. The Friday series never lent itself to any social opinion or commentary of the time and never meant to allow itself to be poignant with its story, if there ever really was one to follow in the series.

Craven had such a great and creative way in allowing the social contexts to become a huge part of his horror genre and much like he did with the post Vietnam War America that was analyzed in "Last House On The Left". NOES was able to make a visceral feeling of dread of what the mind was capable of doing, comparatively the horror films nowadays tend to not make a resounding impression on contemporary society with buckets and buckets of blood as the classics from yore. With the only exception being "The Mist" that was released a few years ago, that was possibly one of the best movies of the year that no one had seen.

The slasher genre was given a new standard with NOES and that is what makes it unique in the horror genre and which is why I have such a high standard and admiration for NOES. Now, the remake or whatever I will only hope to be able to retain that type of origin that propelled the original story several years ago. It can be said for many movies nowadays on whether or not they provoke some sort of commentary on contemporary American society and its even harder as a horror film to be effective and entertaining in its terror while at the same time commenting on modern culture or issues as well.

With the movies nowadays we have to be able to see the forest for the trees.

"A Nightmare on Elm Street" is one of the few remakes that I am looking forward to because of not only the legacy that it has but also of the intelligent metaphor and themes that encompassed the story to begin with, as long as they are able to keep that and are able to honor that in this remake, count me in.

Ali Murtaza breaks down Hollywood Directors

2010-02-27T07:13:00.000-08:00

Why can't someone like James Cameron create real heartfelt dramas? The answer is quite simply in the arbitrary division of directorial styles commonly used in the industry. There is the technical director and an actors director.

Quite simply put someone like Clint Eastwood, with a background in acting knows, or rather thrives on their collaboration with actors on set. They care more about the performance of the actor than the angle of the shot. It is not that these people are simply more concerned with the emotional range of an actor. In actuality they are more in tuned with it because either like Clint they have been on the other end of the camera, or they have a natural knack for dealing with actors.

On the other hand you have technical directors that know how to set up great shots and sequences that will wow the audience, but when it comes to subtlety of emotion they are at a loss. These directors can create a spectacle to be admired but cannot get the best out of their actors. They are lost in creating their world. Every once in a while they are blessed with the sense to pick great actors and that helps the process, but in the end they live in another dimension of film.

James Cameron can be categorized in the second category first and formats by Titanic, the greatest spectacle of its time. The movie blew box office and every entity that witnessed it. It starred two actors that since have made their mark in the industry. Yet, it failed to get them an Oscar that year. 11 Academy Awards and not a single one for acting. It is clear that there was something missing in the equation. We know that it wasn't the ability of the stars. It must have been the director.

As if that wasn't enough this year we were witness to the birth of Avatar. Another revolution in film. Cameron does it once again, blows his audience away. The box office is in the billions around the world. The reactions are great. yet not even a single Oscar nomination for acting out of the nine total nominations. What is going on here? Does Cameron not have luck? What is he missing? - Ali Murtaza

Walmart Buying Vudu Online Movie Service

2010-02-25T15:14:00.000-08:00

Online movie and TV service VUDU, the Santa Clara, CA-based digital provider, has been acquired by Walmart, the retail giant announced today.

VUDU’s technology, which delivers access to movies and TV shows directly through television, allows customers with broadband access and an Internet ready or Blu-ray player to purchase movies without using a computer or cable/satellite service. An article in The New York Times today valued the deal at $100 million and indicated that the two entities have begun informing studios and television manufacturers.

NYT also reports that the integration could also give Walmart the chance to one day sell various products via people’s televisions through VUDU’s technology.

VUDU has licensing agreements with major movie studios in addition to what Walmart calls “dozens of independent and international distributors” that offers some 16,000 movies. Walmart is already the largest seller of DVDs in the U.S.

“The real winner here is the customer,” said Eduardo Castro-Wright, vice chairman for Walmart in a statement. “Combining VUDU’s unique digital technology and service with Walmart’s retail expertise and scale will provide customers with unprecedented access to home entertainment options as they migrate to a digital environment.”

“We are excited about the opportunity to take our company’s vision to the next level,” said Edward Lichty, VUDU executive vice president in a statement. “VUDU’s services and Apps platform will give Walmart a powerful new vehicle to offer customers the content they want in a way that expands the frontier of quality, value and convenience.”

Hollywood movies follow a mathematical formula... DUH!

2010-02-25T15:11:00.000-08:00

Psychologist Professor James Cutting and his team from Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, analyzed 150 high-grossing Hollywood films released from 1935 to 2005 and discovered the shot lengths in the more recent movies followed the same mathematical pattern that describes the human attention span. The pattern was derived by scientists at the University of Texas in Austin in the 1990s who studied the attention spans of subjects performing hundreds of trials. The team then converted the measurements of their attention spans into wave forms using a mathematical technique known as the Fourier transform.

They found that the magnitude of the waves increased as their frequency decreased, a pattern known as pink noise, or 1/f fluctuation, which means that attention spans of the same lengths recurred at regular intervals. The same pattern has been found by Benoit Mandelbrot (the chaos theorist) in the annual flood levels of the Nile, and has been seen by others in air turbulence, and also in music.

Cutting made his discovery by measuring the length of every shot in 150 comedy, drama and action films, and then converted the measurements into waves for every movie. He found that the more recent the films were, the more likely they were to obey the 1/f fluctuation, and this did not just apply to fast action movies. Cutting said the significant thing is that shots of similar lengths recur in a regular pattern through the film.

Cutting believes obeying the 1/f law makes films “resonate with the rhythm of human attention spans,” and this makes them more gripping. Films edited in this way would then tend to be more successful and the style of shooting and editing more likely to be copied. Films of Cutting’s own favorite genre, the Film Noir, do not generally follow the 1/f law, with shot lengths tending to be more random. By contrast The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and the 2005 blockbuster movie Star Wars Episode III (which Cutting considers to be “just dreadful”) both follow 1/f rigidly.

The researchers concluded that over the next few decades film makers may take more care to follow the 1/f law to try to boost audience engagement.

Machinarium

2010-02-25T15:06:00.000-08:00

Machinarium, a point-and-click adventure game set in a strangely recognizable robot city, is one of the most beautiful games to hit home computers in a long time. It achieves this with the barest possible technology: colored pencil drawings, ethereal music, and crude pictograph dialogue. The atmosphere is almost filmic, like Metropolis and Jean-Pierre Jeunet filtered through The Triplets Of Belleville, but the gameplay is joyously inspired.

The story of a little robot who must escape from prison, find his girlfriend, and prevent a bomb blast is told through puzzles. Many are single-screen affairs in which everything you need is before your eyes; others have the ’bot wandering the city with an item in hand. As the puzzles reveal plot, animations reveal character. The game is essentially dialogue-free, but you’ll develop an immediate affinity for the hero, based solely on his movement and range of expression. With a shake of the head, he’ll refuse to follow impossible orders. What orders he does follow are undertaken with a sly, self-effacing physicality that belies the rudimentary animation bringing him to life.

When a solution appears maddeningly difficult, there are two ingenious hint systems. One is a simple picture that shows what you should be trying to achieve. This is less a hint than a glimpse into your robot’s thought process. The other is a book that will explicitly spell out how to solve a problem, but you’ll have to beat a little arcade game before accessing it each time.

The only serious limitation here is tied to the game’s Flash chassis. The right-click action has long been a staple of adventure gaming, to cancel actions and deselect items. That isn’t an option in Flash; it only brings up an ugly, intrusive menu. Furthermore, Flash may freeze briefly, causing you to miss frames of animation. But if Flash is what it takes for Amanita’s Jakub Dvorsky to make an uncompromised creative title on his own terms, the hiccups can be called minor.

Discuss: Getting Audiences to See Long Movies

2010-02-20T08:03:00.000-08:00

The six-hour gritty crime drama The Red Riding Trilogy is slowly making its way around to big cities. It's really three movies, based on four novels by David Peace, adapted by Tony Grisoni and directed by Julian Jarrold, James Marsh, and Anand Tucker. Each entry takes place in a different year, 1974, 1980 and 1983, and some characters cross over from one movie to the next. The whole thing played on television in the UK, and as of now I'm still not sure just how the U.S. theatrical release will be handled. Will moviegoers buy one ticket for all three films? Do they sit through all six hours at once, or can they come back on a different day? Certainly the press screening here in my hometown happened all in one six-hour chunk, though I opted to watch the film at home on a screener. (I'm only one-and-a-half movies in at this point, but I like it a great deal so far.)

A few years back, an Italian mini-series called The Best of Youth was released theatrically in the U.S. as a six-hour film. It showed in two parts, and required two separate admissions, and it was a small scale smash-hit, selling out and extending runs. But a year earlier, Lucas Belvaux's three-part The Trilogy (On the Run, An Amazing Couple and After the Life) opened without much of a splash. One of the most highly acclaimed movies of the 1990s, Bela Tarr's seven-hour Satantango (1994), never got its own theatrical release. Those who were lucky enough to see it did so at repertory houses during retrospectives and festivals. Now it's on home video and viewers can watch at their own pace.

Similar problems cropped up in the 1980s for movies like Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Berlin Alexanderplatz (15 hours), Krzysztof Kieslowski's The Decalogue (10 hours), and Claude Lanzmann's 9-1/2 hour documentary Shoah. Some repertory houses came up with interesting ways of packaging these movies in manageable bites, but sometimes requiring more than one ticket. Needless to say, all of these movies seem more suited to DVD.

On the other hand, Gone with the Wind is nearly 4 hours long and is still the (adjusted for inflation) all-time box office champion. No one has ever had one second's hesitation about seeing that movie in a theater, nor any problems about distribution or ticket selling. Likewise, I'm sure plenty of devoted souls have seen the entire stretch of Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings in one sitting. So let's hear it, dear readers! How much movie would you be willing to sit through in a theater? What kind of movie would it be? Would you mind subtitles? How much would you pay for tickets? - Jeffrey Anderson

Quentin Tarantino keeps a classic movie theater open; who’ll save the rest of the country’s Indie Theaters?

2010-02-20T08:01:00.000-08:00

The New Beverly Cinema in Los Angeles is a great place to see a movie. Not because it is the most comfortable theater or the most state of the art, but because it is operated and attended by people who really love movies. I’ve only been there a few times, but the experiences have been great: seeing Wet Hot American Summer with David Wain in attendance, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3 with Frank Darabont and Chuck Russell, and catching a marathon of three Friday the 13th flicks.

Quentin Tarantino bought the New Beverly when it fell on hard times, but his involvement with the theater has been known in detail only to some of the most dedicated friends and patrons of the business. Now Tarantino and the family that runs the theater are talking about the process of keeping it alive.

THR has a long report on the process that began when Quentin Tarantino offered financial help to Sherman Torgan, once the New Bev’s operator. He started giving the theater $5000 per month to keep it open. But when Sherman Torgan passed away in 2007, the theater faced closure, prompting Tarantino to buy the space outright. “I always considered the New Beverly my charity,” he says, “an investment I never wanted back.”

Tarantino said one thing of his ownership of the New Bev that really sums it up how grand his patronage of the long-running movie house really is:

As long as I’m alive, and as long as I’m rich, the New Beverly will be there, showing double features in 35mm.

Now this is the place where I have to lecture. Did you read this story and think, “wow, that’s awesome”? If so, and you have a local indie house that you don’t visit on a regular basis, what’s wrong with you?

I understand that a great many people don’t have a local theater like the New Beverly to visit, because most have closed. Many others are on the verge of closing. The Plaza in Atlanta has long been threatened with death. The Brattle in Cambridge, MA has had trouble over the years. These are great places. I finally saw Street Trash on the screen thanks to The Plaza, and met David Lynch thanks to The Brattle. Many other similar places provide great film experiences for their audiences, but still have troubles of their own.

I’m not really here to chastise people, but there isn’t a Quentin Tarantino to go around for all these theaters. And not all of them are the Alamo Drafthouse. Some are better than others about promoting their schedules, and some are more inviting than others. But if you knew the sheer amount of work that goes into operating a truly independent theater, you’d know that all are run by people with a deep love for movies. It’s impossible to do the job otherwise. It’s just too much work.

So, please, if you’ve got an indie theater nearby spend some time in the seats. Go once or twice a month, even to a matinee. DVD is great. Netflix and Hulu and On Demand are all wonderful. But movies still belong in theaters, where you can see them in the dark with a crowd. OK, lecture over. - Russ Fischer

I have something to say: No one’s a Cobbler anymore.

2010-02-15T18:27:00.001-08:00

“No one’s a cobbler anymore” he said, “you never hear someone say that today”
“Why would you want to?” she replied.
“I don’t know, just a sign of the times I guess”

This is a line from something I’ve been writing, and before today I did not realize the depth of that statement. Today I read an article informing me that the film Taxi Driver is going to be remade (possibly), and in part by the original director and actor no less. At first I found it difficult to articulate why that information upset me so much, but as I was trying to put my feelings into words, I thought about the above quote. Truth be told there are cobblers in the world, but very few, and due to mass production lines we no longer have use for them. To be a cobbler in the world today is a brave thing, no matter which way you spin it because you’ve said to hell with mass production and the way of the world. You clearly have to like shoes, you have to care about the way they’re put together and know how to keep them new, but lastly, and this is important, you’re aware that there are other people out there that have a pair of shoes they care about and don’t want to see them ruined or have to throw them away.

Is Martin Scorsese a cobbler? He is taking something old and making it new again after all, but is he a cobbler? The answer is No. Cobblers maintain and they stand apart from the status quo in being cobblers. If Scorsese was a cobbler he’d simply be doing a film transfer of the original print to maintain the film as it was originally made and preserve the cinematic qualities from fading. And you would certainly want to keep the leather of the shoe fresh, not slap on an older, decaying leather (older Robert DeNiro). Can it be justified that both are defying the status quo by being “brave enough” to remake a beautiful, classic film? No insult to either the actor or the director in terms of talent, and my goodness, its vast talent, but this remake signals the dominance of the status quo and solidifies the divide of filmmakers.

Many online news sources have comment sections at the bottom of each article and while trying to find as much information as I could about this possible herald of the end times I did not see a single optimistic or positive comment about this news, and believe me, as one to always needs a devil’s advocate for any thought I had, I looked. And reading them I realized that they’re all film related websites. Filmmakers and film junkies visit these sites regularly and comment regularly, but what will the mainstream think? Will the majority of moviegoers under the age of 20 even know this is a remake when they go to see it upon its release? Probably not.

Now I don’t have to see these remakes, I don’t have to pay money to enter the cinaplex and watch, and I won’t, but they’re still there. Other people will see them. One of them things I used to tell my students is that when you make the choice to do one thing, you make the choice NOT to do something else. So what is not being made in order to make these films? What is not being funded? If you look on the indie film blogs you’ll find the answers, they often post notes from filmmakers sharing their experiences with studios and the changes they wanted them to make to their projects in order to even consider just an option for funding. How many films like “Once” or “The Brothers Bloom” or “Wendy and Lucy” or “500 Days of Summer” or “Brick” aren’t being funded? Now some of these films don’t need to be made for a lot of money, and they aren’t, but for the price of just one “Scary Movie” you could make dozens of “Bricks”. You could breed difference and variety like you had a supply of miracle grow.

By now you’ve heard this argument before from someone you know, some filmmaker or fan out there who is bitter or angry, and they have a right to be, but the fact that this argument keeps being made says one thing; there has not been a change. The divide gets bigger and bigger and bigger. And out of bitterness and anger comes passion. Comes drive. These are the silver linings.

With every remake and sequel Hollywood pumps out they tighten their grasp on the market and re-enforce their system. They become less risky, make more cowardly moves, turn their backs on creative progress and keep our imaginations cyclical. But just as there are companies like Nike and Adidis, there are cobblers. There are filmmakers who make films outside of the studio system, or make them within, using studio money, but keep them original and bold. These are the cobblers. These are the filmmakers who make films for fans of originality. For fans of directing, fans of acting, fans of writing, of the lost art of cinematography, of production design and sound, of editing. These are my people. I don’t need to go into all the examples of indie filmmakers who have had the chance to direct a remake or take part in a franchise with a poorly written script or those who have decided to distribute their own films, but there are many. Perhaps one day I will make a film with studio money, or write a sequel to a sci-fi franchise, but if that day comes, I will use new leather, I will make sure the laces are tight, that the stitches are in the seams and that the SOUL is strong. And as long as there is an audience to watch these films and as long as there are peers who support each other in our efforts, I will make these films. I will cobble.