Miscellaneous Musings

On Those Controversial News Items

Rarely has an industry been rocked as much the movie industry was on December 3, 2020, when Warner Bros. announced its intention to release its entire slate of films for 2021 on the fledgling steaming service HBO Max. In a move intended to inspire ease, it added that it would also release them simultaneously in theaters, although with COVID-19 still raging, it is anybody’s guess what this actually means. My guess is that releases will look eerily similar to those that occur during Oscar-season – meaning select cities, a small number of screens, and an expansion only if “demand” warrants it.

The reaction was what you’d expect it to be: The studio proclaimed its hands were tied and that the move was necessary to ensure its survival; Hollywood actors and directors decried its potential to hasten the death of cinemas, make it impossible to accurately assess a film’s profitability, and reduce big budget motion pictures to the status of made-for-TV productions, which, if we’re honest, is really what most films made for streaming services are. Meanwhile, collectors of physical discs lamented that even more films would be exclusively available online.

I suppose Warner Bros. could have lessened the blow by adding the words if the situation warrants it to their initial announcement. That would have put some of its detractors at ease by promising a return to the ways movies have always been released. Without such a caveat, the fear of a new normal was allowed to fester, though it should be said that some of the very voices criticizing WB’s plan have had no qualms about making films for Netflix and Amazon that will almost certainly never be screened inside a traditional movie theater and about whose profitability studios have been less that forthcoming.

On the other hand, what choice did Warner Bros. have? It is impossible to say how many movie theaters will even be around in a year’s time. Just this week, AMC announced it needs $850 million to survive, and even in Taiwan, where movie theaters have remained opened throughout the pandemic, poor attendance, coupled with the dearth of Hollywood blockbusters, has forced the temporary closure of numerous movie theaters. Perhaps desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures.

A week after that announcement came the long-awaited declaration that the Criterion Collection was releasing a box set of seven of visionary Hong Kong director Wang Kar-wai’s films, including As Tears Go By, Chungking Express, In the Mood for Love, and 2046. Fans were ecstatic – at least they were until they read the description of the Special Features. It included these frenzy-producing descriptions: Alternate version of “Days of Being Wild” featuring edits of the film’s prologue and final scenes, extended version of “The Hand,” and confirmation that scenes were removed from at least one other film and that several others had had their end credits and coloring tinkered with. Suffice to say, comments left on Criterion Forum were the opposite of positive.

What does it mean that so many directors have devoted so much time to revisionism – George Lucas with the Star Wars films; Spielberg with E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind; Coppola with The Godfather III (or The Godfather Coda as it now seems to be called), The Outsiders, and Apocalypse Now; Ridley Scott with Blade Runner and Kingdom of Heaven; Richard Donner with Superman II; Zack Snyder with Superman v. Batman and Justice League; and Peter Jackson with The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit trilogies (really, weren’t the theatrical versions long enough?). And I haven’t even gotten around to Troy, Alexander, Donnie Darko, Daredevil, Electra, The Abyss, and Zodiac. The list doesn’t even come close to stopping there. Even a film as disappointing as Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald somehow arrived on DVD and Blu-ray with seven more minutes of agony than it had in the theater. And now Wong Kar-wai.

Ultimately, it is a director’s prerogative to go back and rework a film. All consumers can hope for is that the original remains available and receives the same treatment as the director’s cut. And it is this that fans of Wong Kar-wai are most disappointed with, for most of the original versions of his films are out of print. History is being wiped away in an elusive and addictive pursuit of perfection, and we are all a little worse off as a result.

Finally, there was Disney’s big announcement, and it only confirmed what many pessimists – myself included - had already suspected: that Disney was putting almost all its eggs into two baskets: Marvel and Star Wars, with “roughly” ten new Marvel shows, including Falcon and the Winter Soldier, WandaVision, and Loki, 10 new Star Wars productions with such tantalizing titles as Rangers of the New Republic, Ashoka, Andor, and Obi-Wan featuring the return of Hayden Christensen as Darth Vader, as well as new streaming series based on Peter Pan, Pinocchio, and – I kid you not – The Might Ducks among others. There was even the announcement of a new Star Wars movie called Rogue Squadron and a resumption of films featuring Thor, Dr. Strange, and Ant Man. If you were a fan, you were likely salivating and writing the kind of glorious send-up that appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

If you’re like me, though, the announcements were met with more resignation than enthusiasm. This is what Disney is now – a company living on past glories, most of which are not even their own creations. And what of these tales that they seem so eager to present us? Will they enhance or expand what has come before? Hardly. Most are prequels about characters we have little or no investment in or ones that we have already seen the demise of. Where’s the fun in seeing the adventures of Andor, Wanda, and Vision when we know how they died? Where’s the joy in watching two beloved Star Wars characters pursue each other when we know that whatever climactic battle they eventually have will not yield a satisfactory finale? Where’s the fun in watching an alternate version of a character having adventures that had no bearing on what transpired in the movies he’s already been featured in? And where’s the joy in being told that to understand movies that we’ve already seen, we have to watch hours upon hours of new material? Enough already. Count me out.

Review - Solo

August 13, 2020

Solo: A Star Wars Story – US, 2018

I get Disney’s thinking on Solo: A Star Wars Story. The company was three films into their incarnation of Star Wars, and thus far, the results had been impressive – three films with box office grosses over a billion dollars. A film about the series’s most iconic character must have seemed like a sure thing. Their resolve was undoubtedly strengthened by the recent reboots of Spider-Man and the Hulk, as well as the fact that no live-action Star Wars film had ever lost money. I doubt Marvel’s aborted attempt to make origin films ever entered their minds, but if it had, they might have noticed similarities between Solo and X-Men Origins: Wolverine that would have given them reason to pause.

Wolverine had one major disadvantage: its core narrative had already been told – fully in comic books and piecemeal in the first two X-Men movies. Just why 21^st Century Fox thought audiences wanted to see it again is beyond me, but then again we’re talking about the company that decided it was wise to remake the Dark Phoenix saga rather quickly. Thankfully, Solo contains a relatively novel storyline, yet it never overcomes the second flaw of films in its genre – mainly, it never justifies its existence.

This may sound harsh, but think of other prequels – films like Dumb and Dumberer, Red Dragon, and the animated Clone Wars movie. They were hardly essential viewing, and seeing them did not add much to your understanding of the films whose success they were meant to piggyback on. Disney had gotten lucky with Rogue One – audiences were still jazzed by the return of Star Wars and they were curious as to how exactly events hinted at in the first film actually went down. And despite the fact that nothing in that film seriously impacted the audience’s understanding of either the original series or their prequels, they were generally pleased with the experience. Solo wasn’t quite as fortunate. It was released just five months after The Last Jedi, a film which wasn’t nearly as popular as its predecessor, with some detractors even calling for a boycott of future Star Wars films. In other words, there was a lot for Solo to overcome.

Solo is essentially an origin story. We meet Han (Alden Ehrenreich) on a planet whose inhabitants have been forced into a life of crime by ruthless slug-like overlords, and we follow him as he tries to escape the planet with his girlfriend, Qi’ra (Emilia Clark), (only he makes it out), joins the Empire briefly (a say-what? moment), meets Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo) in a scene eerily reminiscent of one in Return of the Jedi, reveals that he speaks Wookie (which makes you wonder why he never did in the later films), and joins up with a band of pirates led by Woody Harrelson so that he can earn enough money to return to his home planet to rescue Qi’ra. At some point – don’t ask me when - Han learns how to fly a spacecraft better than anyone else in the galaxy.

As the film progresses, we get answers to questions I doubt Star Wars fans ever really had, such as how Han and Chewbacca became a team and just what exactly the kessel run that Han ran in 12 parsecs was. The film also includes a few tidbits that I never even thought to ponder, such as how the rebellion was financed, and, like The Rise of Skywalker it includes the return of a character long-assumed deceased - without any explanation whatsoever as to why he’s walking around relatively unscathed.

Despite all this, Solo is still moderately successful. While it takes too long to find its rhythm, when it does, it can actually be quite fun. It looks like a Star Wars film, and it is hard to fault the admirable efforts of the cast. Sure, no one will ever be able to replace Harrison Ford, but Ehrenreich brings energy, heart, and a certain degree of fun to the role of Han Solo. He and Suotamo establish a realistic rapport, and there are some rather clever interactions between Han and Lando, here played by Donald Glover.

That said, the filmmakers made a billion dollar mistake – they included a storyline that audiences simply will never invest in. I’m speaking here of Han’s relationship with Qi’ra. After five films in which we have rooted for and been dismayed by the apparent collapse of Han’s relationship with Leia, it’s hard to care much for the collapse of a relationship that we know doesn’t last. It’s like watching a film called When Harry Met Helen, and asking us to invest in his attempt to woo the woman that eventually unceremoniously dumps him. And after what Han goes through as a result of Qi’ra, it is hard to imagine that she would have become such an afterthought. I guess that’s what happens when films are made out of order and not enough thought is given to continuity.

Much has already been written about the making of Solo, but it bears mentioning that the film underwent a directorial change mid-production, resulting in a real shift in tone. I say this because it shows. Long stretches of the film – many of which involve a rebellious android called L3-37 and her quest for the emancipation of her fellow robots - were clearly intended to be part of a comedy, while others – in particular, the film’s finale, have a much more serious tone. A few scenes try – somewhat unsuccessfully - to find a middle ground. For example, in one scene, our heroes are in serious danger of being eaten by some sort of space octopus while also being pursued by tie fighters. One would expect a serious demeanor, yet there Han is joking about Chewbacca’s age. The film never truly overcomes this imbalance.

It seems clear that Solo was intended to be the first in a series, for several storylines are left unresolved. The film does not establish a strong relationship between Lando and Han, at least not the kind that would make Han think he could go to him for help in The Empire Strikes Back. A big job is hinted at toward the end of the film, one which would have undoubtedly brought Han face to face with Jabba the Hutt. We’ll likely never know for sure. On top of the film losing money, Ehrenreich has said that he would have a difficult time returning to the role, and after the uproar over his casting, I can’t say I blame him.

I’m not suggesting that I’m clamoring for a sequel or that I had a burning desire to see a Han Solo movie in the first place. In truth, I probably would not be inclined to see a follow-up even if it were made. Which brings me back to Wolverine. Without a narrative to continue or better explain, the film just screamed cash grab. The same charge can be leveled at Solo – not that there’s anything wrong with that, provided that the final product is sufficiently entertaining. And Solo is marginally that. I’d even go so far as to award it the bronze statue. Yes, I am aware that may not seem like much of a compliment to some of you, but hey, it’s something. (on DVD and Blu-ray)

2 and a half stars

Review - Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

January 1, 2020

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

The dead speak! These are the words that greet audiences in the opening moments of the ninth and supposedly final chapter of the Skywalker saga, a tale that began all the way back in 1977 and – if we’re honest with ourselves – felt complete in 1983. “The dead” referred to in the introductory scroll is Emperor Palpatine, the same one who was assumed to have met his demise at the hands of Darth Vader in Return of the Jedi. And just where has the Emperor been all this time? Has he been lying low in some technologically advanced castle plotting and coordinating the movement of the First Order?  You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no. Instead, he appears to have whiled away the years in a dusty, dark cave without not only technology but also dentists and tailors. I’d almost swear he’s worn the same clothes for the last 35 years.

Palpatine’s presence must have seemed genius when the creative forces behind the film met. After all, almost no Star Wars fan would have expected it, and there’s a reason for this: His death made sense. Sadly, his reemergence never does – no matter how much director J.J. Abrams tries to explain it. To make matters worse, the character continues to rattle off ridiculous statements about having planned and coordinated everything, that everything is going according to plan, and that no one is coming to the aid of depleted Rebels making one final stand against him and his battalion of apparently rustproof Star Destroyers. It’s as if he’s completely forgotten about his fortunes the last time he made such proclamations.

His presence adds another complication to the plot. It further confuses the portrait of Luke Skywalker presented in Episodes 7 and 8. We’re now asked to believe that Luke knew of Palpatine’s survival and, despite knowing the threat he posed, still chose to exile himself on an island whose whereabouts were unknown but which he left a map to as a means of…oh, never mind. The point is that the Luke Skywalker Star Wars fans grew up with would not have run from the battle any more that Han Solo would. Check that. Abrams also made that happen.

The Rise of Skywalker finds Ray, Finn, and Poe continuing the struggle against the First Order. This time there’s a mole inside the enemy camp supplying the Rebels with confirmation of the Emperor’s survival and giving them clues as to how to find him. This involves finding a cube-like structure called – I kid you not – a Way Finder which when plugged into a space craft takes our heroes on a search for the Sith world that would have made Dante proud. All of this leads to one of those climactic battles that anyone who has watched recent action movies will be all too familiar with. There’s even one of those predictable moments when all hope seems lost just before the cavalry arrives to even the odds.

On the plus side, the film corrects one of the biggest mistakes of The Last Jedi, separating Ray and Finn. These are the two characters that the new trilogy is really about, and dividing them stunted their growth and removed some of the emotional draw of Episode 7. Here, their connection is much stronger, and we get a sense that their friendship has realistically expanded over the years. I bought their closeness, and it was refreshing to see. Also close are Poe and Finn, and this is to be expected given their history and the amount of time they appear to have worked together in the interim. Less time is given to other characters, some who had big roles in earlier films, such as Kelly Marie Tran’s Rose Tico, yet this is explained by giving them positions that mostly keep them away from the battle. It’s realistic, even as it is also a bit disappointing.

Previously, I criticized Episodes 7 and 8 for containing too many similarities to earlier films, and while there are scenes that will make you recall events from the other trilogies, copying is the least of my complaints about Episode 9, the biggest of which involves the expanding abilities of those who use the force. The expansion began in Episode 8 with Jedi ghosts being able to create infernos from beyond the grave and it continues here with the force enabling Jedi to heal people. Even more egregious is this: The force enables Kylo Ren to communicate telepathically with Ray and then to “grab” an item that she is holding in her hands, despite their being miles away from each other. It’s as if the force makes his hands a teleportation device. I guess the force can be anything now. I can’t wait for the film in which a Jedi turns sand into water to save a friend dying of thirst.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is at its best when it focuses on the new characters and just lets them talk to each other. This happens less often than it should, but when the film does slow down, we get some great emotional moments between Ray and Finn that demonstrate how much they are there for each another, humorous dialogue between Ray and Finn, and, finally, some actual emotional reactions to the death of a key legacy character. It was also a treat to see the return for Lando Calrissian, again played by Billy Dee Williams. The film is at its weakest when it resembles a video game, pushing its characters from one battle to the next without giving them or us much opportunity to breathe or digest what we have just seen and heard.

And maybe this is intentional because given time to reflect, it is likely we would be highly critical of what had transpired. Thoughts would begin to swirl around in our heads, ponderances that resembled the following incredulities: The Emperor’s back? Luke did what? Why, exactly, does the Emperor want Ray dead in the beginning but not the end, and why does the film reverse itself so many times? What can’t it just commit to its most dramatic moments? And why does nothing the Emperor says or does in the film’s climax make any sense? Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised at such thoughts, though. While many people cheered Abrams’s return to the series, I had my doubts. After all, he was the one who helmed the Episode 4 clone that is The Force Awakens. This is his sequel, and it’s actually a step down. Personally, I blame the Dark Side. (in theaters)

2 stars

Miscellaneous Musings

November 9, 2019

On When Reflection Diminishes Appreciation

Some time ago, I read a column by a film critic in San Francisco who had recently seen and written a review of 2013’s Man of Steel. The review was to be published in the upcoming Friday edition of the San Francisco Chronicle, but he confessed to being conflicted: The review he’d written was mainly positive - he’d given the film three stars - yet as time passed, he was finding himself increasingly critical of the film, and it had became harder for him to justify what he’d written. His question was this: Should he still give it 3 stars, or should the rating reflect his newfound reservations?

I imagine most critics have had similar experiences. I remember watching Roger Ebert’s opinion of the 2004 film In My Country go from thumbs-up to thumbs-down within minutes after hearing Richard Roeper criticize the film, and back in 1993, a reviewer essentially proclaimed that he must have been temporary insane when he gave Another Stakeout 3 stars. That review remained unchanged, but would he have been wrong to ask his editors to reduce it to 2 and a half stars in subsequent publications?

Back in the early days of this blog, I reviewed the first two versions of Ben Hur, and in the ensuing years, I’ve come to consider William Wyler’s 1959 version as being undeserving of the accolades I bestowed on it. (I gave it 3 and a half stars.) The film now seems bloated and simplistic, its creators unwilling to take any real risks. There are also long stretches in which nothing of significance happens, and its most famous sequence is unnecessarily prolonged, much like the pod race in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, and concludes with a completely foreseeable outcome. I even recall – or at least I tell myself I do – being relieved when the film reached its conclusion, and if asked today, I doubt I would recommend it.

Recently I went back and reread my review. (I must admit that it is one of the worst reviews I’ve written. It contains very little critical analysis of the film, the majority of it reading like a summary of the first thirty to forty-five minutes of the film.) I found myself tempted to edit the review in order for it to reflect my current opinion of the film, but I stopped myself. Then I considered adding a second rating and labeling it Upon Further Reflection, but this didn’t seem appropriate either. I ended up leaving it the way it was.

Ben-Hur, of course, is not the only example of films that I no longer appreciate as much as I did when I first saw them. Here are a few more and a brief explanation of why they fell from grace.

Hannah and Her Sisters - 1986

Watching this again after so many years, I was struck by the sheer convenience of it all. While Michael Caine’s storyline still resonates, it’s wrapped up too nicely with a throw-away line about how he much he indeed loves his wife. As for the Woody Allen storyline, it works until his character just happens to be walking past a record store where a woman whom he was once set up on a blind date with is shopping. They get to talking, and a scene later, they married and expecting a child. If you know Woody Allen’s films, the pattern isn’t entirely surprising. He has a tendency to throw in a convenient encounter as a way of providing a fairy-tale ending, and knowing that, it was harder to see this early use of the technique as innovative or sweet. I still liked the film, but it’s just a 3-star like.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens - 2015

Like many, I wanted to like The Force Awakens, so much so that I think I subconsciously blocked out the parts of the film that didn’t work and amplified the impact of those that did. Therefore, I talked about how great it was to see Han Solo after so long and to see that he hadn’t changed all that much. I liked the introduction of the new characters, and I particularly enjoyed the rescue attempt that makes up much of the last part of the film. However, as time went by, this appreciation began to be dwarfed by the film’s more questionable elements – the map to Luke Skywalker, the confusing status of the Rebel Alliance, the borrowed plots and scenes from previous movies, the helmet that we saw being reduced to ashes in Return of the Jedi. And as time progressed, the older version of Han Solo made less sense. Here, after all, is a man whose son has turned to the dark side, endangering everyone he knows and cares for, and he just leaves. Not only that, he adopts the carefree role of a man with no worries and a great sense of sarcasm. Sure, he gets serious later, but when you finally understand all that’s happened, it’s inconceivable that he would just pack up and leave. And doesn’t he know that nothing good ever comes of walking along a narrow lane toward a young man carrying a lightsaber? Everyone in the audience did. Needless to say, I like the movie much less than I initially did upon leaving the theater.

The Dark Knight Rises

When I saw the final chapter in Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, I liked what I saw a lot. Well, let me quantify that. I liked a lot of the first half. Films about the physical toll that being a superhero can take on someone fascinate me. For example, Logan was a stronger film because the lead character was a weaker version of himself; likewise, The Dark Knight Rises. Seeing Bruce Wayne limping and walking with a cane made the character human; making him shun billions because a creation of his could be used for nefarious purposes gave him a conscious. Add to that an interesting debate about the wealth gap in Gotham City and contrasting perceptions of Batman and Harvey Dent, and you had the potential for a different kind of superhero movie. I gave the film three stars because of all this.

However, the more I reminisced about the film, the most I focused on the extremely unfocused and poorly scripted second half – with Bruce Wayne being visited by Ra’s Al Ghul in a dream and being given a clue that turns out to be false; Bane’s shifting schemes; the odd way both Wayne and Bane travel to and from Gotham rather easily despite Bane’s proclamation that no one and nothing enters or exits the city; the ludicrous idea that the entire police force is sent to one place and then trapped there for who knows how long, yet still emerges in well enough shape to march into the center of town and wage war with both Bane’s henchmen and the apparently scant number of prisoners he released earlier in the film; and then there’s the ending, which no amount of repeat viewing will ever be able to clarify. These are the things I focus on now, and were I to rate the film today, it would be in the 2 to 2 and a half star range.

And that’s the peculiar thing about time: It clarifies, and the more we look at some things, the less sense they make and the less appeal they have.

Miscellaneous Musings

December 21, 2017

On an Unfortunate Case of Short-Term Thinking and the Diminishing of a Masterpiece

Let’s say you decided to binge-watch the Star Wars films. Where would you begin? Years ago, Lucas suggested that people start with Episode I, also known as The Phantom Menace, and if one did this, they would be starting the series with a film that is a bit of a narrative mess. On the one hand, the film wants desperately to appeal to the young; hence, the additions of Jar Jar Binks, the head of the Gungans, the focus on Anakin as a very young child, and the thrilling, yet unnecessarily long pod race. On the other hand, it surrounds these elements with a complicated tax dispute, a silent and brutal assassin, and a Jedi Counsel that without having seen the other films lacks context. Episodes II and III would make sense to the audience, seeing as they follow the story lines established in Episode I, while wisely lessening Jar Jar’s role and adding more darkness to Anakin’s character.  By the end of the third film, viewers would know a lot about the Skywalker family, such as the fate of Padme Amidala, Anakin’s turn to the dark side, and the fate of the twins the two of them had together.

And here it where it would get tricky – and a bit unpleasant. Episode IV would introduce characters that the audience knew a great deal about already, and that would make Leia’s kiss for luck more than a little uncomfortable. It would also change the way viewers saw Vader. The Empire Strikes Back would still be an effective film, despite another scene in which sister passionately kissed brother, yet the film’s climactic moment would be a letdown. Audiences would already know Vader’s big reveal. Return of the Jedi would still provide a fitting end to the trilogy, and the indelible image that closes the film would still inspire immense satisfaction and a deserved sense of closure.

Seen in this order, it is doubtful that Star Wars: Episode IV would still be considered a masterpiece by those who were discovering it for the first time. Episode V would have fewer surprises, and Episode VI, in which the truth is revealed to all in the Star Wars universe, would have less power, as it would be revealing facts long known by viewers.

I continue to think this is the wrong order in which to watch these films. Seen in the order in which they were released, the films would retain their power to impress. Episode IV would still blow people’s minds, The Empire Strikes Back would continue break their hearts, and Return of the Jedi would once again restore their faith in humanity. Episodes I and II would be a bit of a letdown, seeing as how the films seem intended for newer, younger fans. After all, the tagline of The Phantom Menace was “Every generation has its legend.” However, viewers who stuck in out would be rewarded with a series that grew in quality and ended on a surprisingly emotional note. They would understand its implications, and it may even alter their previous perceptions of certain characters.

True, these six films could be repetitive. The end of Episode IV, VI, and I all end in similar fashion, yet as long as viewers could set aside their incredulity that the emperor would create a second Death Star, leak its plans to the Rebels, and leave in its design a flaw similar to the one the fell the first Death Star, the films would still have the same enjoyment factor.

The same cannot be said, however, of The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi.  Imagine watching these films so closely after the first two trilogies. It’s hard not to picture jaws dropping, eyes rolling, and a strong sense of déjà vu overwhelming viewers. Another droid with secret plans. Another decent person appealed to for help. Another cantina-like club. Another rescue attempt. Another massive weapon with a critical flaw. Another death of a key character at the hands of the primary antagonist. I could go on, but you get the point. Watched in this fashion, The Force Awakens would come off as an uninspired copy, and its flaws would be glaring. Sure, what’s original in it is quite impressive, but the repetition would keep it from being the crowd-pleaser it seems to have been upon its release in 2015. Sadly, The Last Jedi would suffer the same fate, as much of its plot seems borrowed from The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi.

I have considered myself a Star Wars fan for much of my life, and I have no doubt that I will be sitting in a theater on the opening night of Episode IX. However, I wonder what I will tell my daughter about the series. I did not buy the Blu-ray release of the original trilogy, nor do I think I would ever update my copies of the prequel trilogy. And while I bought the Blu-ray of The Force Awakens, I have yet to watch it. In fact, it’s one of those films that has gotten progressively worse in my head since I first saw it. Would I feel differently if I saw it so soon after Episodes I, II, and III? Somehow I doubt it.

And this brings me back to Star Wars: A New Hope. It is a film that helped define a generation, and it permanently changed cinema as we know it. Yet there’s no denying that my enthusiasm for it has diminished. Perhaps that’s the natural consequence of taking a tight, beloved trilogy and diluting it with unnecessary prequels and sequels that seem far too familiar far too often. Star Wars seems less a milestone now than the zenith of a series that has as many highs as lows. This is what happens when a series becomes about profits and is no longer a labor of love. It becomes just another series.

Miscellaneous Musings: On Iconic Films and the Danger of Returning to Them

April 28, 2016

On Iconic Films and the Danger of Returning to Them

And so it begins.

There are images that live forever in the minds of most die-hard moviegoers – Rick and Louis walking into the foggy unknown at the end of Casablanca, Antonio Ricci escaping the wrath of the crowd under the protection of his son at the conclusion of The Bicycle Thieves, Mookie and Sal’s surprising optimism during the closing moments of Do the Right Thing. These are characters and moments that will live in perpetuity. They are ageless, for every person that sees these films will likely have those images etched in their memories forever. Sure, moviegoers noticed Humphrey Bogart age in movie after movie, yet Rick Blaine will always remain that optimistic romantic heading off into a life of danger and uncertainty. Antonio Ricci will eternally be a figure shamed in front of his son, yet perhaps lifted up by his strength in the face of adversity. Sal and Mookie will always be just about to begin a new journey, one much more complicated than it had been just a day before. The makers of these films were right to conclude their stories where they did, for this is how these characters should be remembered – in the moment, in the middle of unending life.

But imagine if their stories continued, if Rick and Louis were depicted twenty years later in another bar somewhere in Europe in which walked Ilsa Lund. Would the ending of the first film still have the same magic? How would we feel if Vittorio De Sica had seen fit to return to Ricci and show us him working as a successful store owner in an economically-rejuvenated Italy? Would we still be as moved as we were before? What would we say about Do the Right Thing if we learned that Sal had become a bitter old man cursing the young men who had destroyed his store so many years earlier and making broad racist swipes at all people of color? In truth, we would likely wish the sequel had never been made – not because its depiction of Sal would be outside the realm of possibility, but because most of us prefer to believe that change and healing was possible for those characters.

A year ago, my list of iconic moments in film would have included the end of Return of the Jedi and its endearing image of its heroes in a moment of joyous celebration. I was under no illusion that the destruction of the second Death Star had completely wiped out the Empire, and I always knew that more stories involving these characters could be told. However, I was glad they weren’t. In my mind, Luke would always remain the triumphant young man who had found the long-dormant conscience of his father, and Han and Leia would forever stay the couple who had finally found the path to true happiness. Now Luke is an aging recluse, and Han is gone. Alas, so too is the iconic image that had accompanied my memories of these characters.

And as this change occurred, I must admit that my attachment to the series began to wane. The original Star Wars trilogy acquired legendary status in my youth. Everyone had to see them, and if you knew someone who hadn’t, you made sure to bring over your VHS copies along with some popcorn and soda. It was simply a joy to share these films, and I remember the glee I witnessed on the faces of people who discovered them for the first time during their return to the big screen in 1997. The prequels dampened this joy somewhat, as did Lucas’s continued tinkering with the original trilogy. With each alteration, the films may have gotten closer to his original vision of them, yet they got further and further away from the films that had excited people so much back in 1977.

Perhaps it was inevitable that Star Wars would return. As revenue from physical products fell and film costs skyrocketed, Hollywood was always likely to turn to safe bets rather than untested inspirations. Remember, prior to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, King Kong had already been remade twice, Godzilla twice as well, and Dracula countless times, There had also already been reboots of Batman and Superman, as well as Spider-Man, James Bond, and Star Trek, so Hollywood was definitely not shy about hitting the reset button.

Yet there is a difference between rebooting a series after a long hiatus and starting it up again after just a two year break. And there’s a distinction between picking up a series after twenty years and completely diluting it of what made it so special in the first place.

Granted, there was a lot that we didn’t know about the characters in Star Wars. We never knew anything about Luke’s childhood, nor were we pricey to the fascinating details of just what caused Han to go into smuggling in the first place or to the countless exciting and harrowing adventures he must have had while in that profession. We also didn’t know how Han and Chewbacca met or the details of Leia’s childhood. In truth, they didn’t matter. We accepted the characters as they were the first time they appeared on screen. And we accepted that there had been a daring and costly mission to retrieve the design of the Death Star and that they had been placed in a droid that eventually made its way to Tatooine. We didn’t need to see it. I believe we still don’t.

In a perfect world, the Star Wars series would have stopped with Jedi, and Disney would have come up with an original story that would have dazzled and amazed this generation of moviegoers in the same way that the original trilogy did people in the late 70s and 80s. It would have been theirs, their legend filled with their iconic images. It would have been something they introduced their children to and spoke of with reverence when asked about the memorable moments of their youth. Instead, they get The Force Awakens, not a bad film, but one that is likely to give viewers a sense of déjà vu if they watch it so soon after Star Wars: A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back.

And that’s not all. Next year we get that story that no one was demanding in a film entitled Rouge One, a film that, judging by the trailer, is filled with the kinds of characters that regularly appear in adaptations of Marvel comic books. In fact, the description of Jyn that we hear in the first trailer could just as easily refer to the Ant-Man’s alter ego, Scott Lang. As if that wasn’t enough, two years later, we’re likely to get that solo Han Solo film. In other words, Star Wars is moving backwards, filling in plot holes that no one minded in the first place.

Will those films make money? Probably. However, with every successive Star Wars story, the original trilogy will lose a little more of what made it so extraordinary to so many people. Eventually, they will just be the best parts of a series that was extended not because there were more stories that demanded to be told, but because a studio decided it needed to make them to survive in today’s post-Internet world. I understand this, yet we must recognize what it means. Nothing is sacred, and no series is untouchable. Wolverine will eventually be played by a different actor, the reset button pushed on the X-Men; there will one day be another version of James Bond’s first case, just as we’ll soon get John McClane’s first year on the job. The upcoming reboot of Spider-Man is unlikely to be the last, just as Affleck’s Batman is unlikely to be the final one we see. Disney will continue to make live-action versions of their animated masterpieces, and movie studios in general will continue to comb through what has come before for that next big thing. Contemporary filmgoers will essentially be watching their parents’ masterpieces instead of having their own. Again, I get it from a business standpoint, and it appears that much of the movie-going public has no objection to it. I just hope it is recognized for what it could be – the end of each generation truly having their own cinematic legends.

Miscellaneous Musings

On Star Wars and Every Generation Having a Legend: Part 2 (after seeing the film)

December 18, 2015

There were no overnight campers for Star Wars: The Force Awakens, and lines on the morning of its opening day were steady, but not stretched down the block. This is not indicative of a lack of appeal, but rather a byproduct of the way tickets are sold in Taiwan. Many tickets are bought online these days, and movie theaters here actual assign seat numbers to tickets. Here, the person who is first in line may not get the best seat. In fact, he may not get a seat at all.

I had purchased my ticket a week earlier after reserving it about three weeks prior to that, and, in spite of that, I still arrived at the theater more than an hour early. It guess old habits do indeed die hard. Some things were different, though. There was a time when my pre-film ritual involved stopping at the concession stand for a overpriced box of Milk Duds and the largest coca-cola that they had. This time around it was just bottled water for me. I can honestly say I miss the days when I didn’t worry about cholesterol and calories.

At the movie theater, the presence of families was unmistakable. Some of the children looked young enough to be seeing their first movie in a movie theater, and if that is indeed true, then The Force Awakens will be etched in their memories forever. In line, two people who looked to be a couple were narrating the experience for a digital camera, perhaps for a blog or live web cam. The woman was explaining that one of the ushers had dressed up for the occasion, yet she failed to recognize just whose costume he was actually wearing. The man supplied the answer for her – a Jawa. I thought it could just have easily been a Jedi.

And then it was time to enter Theater #11 for the 2:55 show. There was a low murmur among the audience, and I don’t think they appreciated having to sit through five commercials and previews of The Good Dinosaur and Ip Man 3, starring Donnie Yen and Mike Tyson of all people. I could sense a tinge of excitement in the air as the moment of anticipation approached, but nothing happened to match the euphoria that I suspect greeted the opening notes of John Williams’ legendary score in the United States.

As you can plainly see by now, this is not a review by any stretch of the imagination, yet I’ve come to the part of my narration in which it is impossible not to talk about the film itself. So here goes. First, is it a good film? Yes, I believe it is. It is action-packed from start to finish, thrilling in the way a sci-fi adventure should be, and well acted all around, and it has a few interesting plot twists that came as genuine surprises. Also, in the film’s favor are the characters. Not only does the film bring back characters that fans of the original trilogy know and love, in particular, Han Solo, but it also more than adequately develops its new characters. We get a real sense of just who Finn, Rey, and Kylo Ren are, and there was never a point in which their actions seemed out of character or unrealistic. I’m still not sure how two of them can use a lightsaber as well as they do, but that’s just par for the course in a Star Wars film. I also appreciated that screenwriters J.J. Abrams, Lawrence Kasdan, and Michael Arndt avoided the temptation to rely on “funny” characters. This is not to say that there aren’t humorous moments in the film, but the humor comes during realistic conversations and in likely scenarios. It is not there just for the kids, as Jar Jar Binks’s jokes were.

As I've said, it's a good movie. Unfortunately, it is not a great one. At several points, I was overcome with a sense of déjà vu , as situations and scenarios from previous films seemed to be being rehashed far too often. It was as if there were a checklist of conventional Star Wars moments, and they were being ticked off as the film went along.  This created the uncomfortable feeling that what I was watching was an unholy amalgamation of a reboot and a sequel. I also thought there was a nice shot before the film’s finale that could have served as the film’s closing shot. I know why it wasn’t, but what came after it seemed like something that could have served quite nicely as the opening scene in the next film.

I know I’m being very vague here, but we are living in a time when the phrase spoiler alert has crept into office conversations and internet movie chat rooms. IMDB practically mandates that commentators inform people if their comments may give away important details. Plus, as I said in my previous post, I did not want any advanced information on the film, so it would be a bit hypocritical of me to rob someone else of that blessed lack of knowledge. I will end with this, though. While I don’t think this film will be one of this generation’s legends, it is a film that people will remember. I’m still on the fence about whether it was necessary to return to the series at all, but I find myself curious once again about Star Wars and Episode 8. In other words, Star Wars: The Force Awakens does exactly what it is supposed to do. It just doesn’t do it as well or as originally as it could have.