Monthly Archives: August 2011

A Look at Stylized Flicks, Genre Films, and B Movies.

The other day I finally got around to seeing Edgar Wright’s Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. It was sitting on my “To-See List” for too long so I decided to sit down and watch it. It was quite an experience, simply put. The story, which is based off of a series of comic books by Bryan Lee O’Malley, follows a 22-year-old slacker/loser by the name of Scott Pilgrim (played by Michael Cera) as he endures the hardships of young adult love in Toronto. He eventually meets the love of his life, Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), but quickly finds out that if he is to be with her he must defeat her jealous and violent Seven Evil Exes. The geeky nerd in me got a kick out of the story’s format, which plays like some sugar-hyped hybridization of a comic book and a classic arcade game. You can never look away, because there’s always something so visually stunning that it’s like a roundhouse kick to your eyes.

Unfortunately, that’s all the film really has going for it. Some of the dialogue is eclectic enough to keep you entertained and some of the characters are humourous, but the story seems rather patched together and the characters are very one-dimensional. But, in a world where everything plays like a comic book/videogame is that okay? Does anything have to make sense? In this case, does style trump basic storytelling?

This is difficult to address. As suggested in my previous posts, I value character development and solid storytelling above much else. However, I still enjoyed Scott Pilgrim even though it was rather lacking in these qualities. I don’t know if this makes me a hypocrite, or if I can just appreciate the execution of style.

In fact, lots of movies tend to rely on their style for support, and that isn’t necessarily bad. Just look at genre films: they rely heavily on particular tropes to set the mood and convey their story. (That’s not to say that all stylized films are genre films, but it’s a considerable portion.)

For example: Films that fall under the category of noir all tend to utilize lighting to set the mood of mystery with shadows and the contrast between dark and light, good and evil. Their stories follow the same basic set-up: a lone protagonist who’s been jaded by life, a femme fatale who gets in the way of his crime-solving, and other supporting characters who tend to be one-sided yet help the protagonist with clues that lead up to him solving his case. The plot is detailed but the characters aren’t, yet the dark setting helps keep the viewers intrigued.

This brings me to a new discussion point: B movies. Generally speaking, they’re low-budget films with little publicity and commercial tastes. They usually don’t have big stars in them, yet they’re not considered “artsy” enough to fall into the category of a serious independent feature. More recently, the terms has been used to describe multiple types of genre films and even exploitation films. These, too, tend to focus more on their style than anything else.

Many people associate B movies with bad tastes, but that is not always the case. Just look at films like Primer and π, whose films have gone deep into their subjects of time travel and math/numerology, respectively. They were made on very small budgets, had at the time no-name actors or directors, and used many techniques such as lighting and music to set their offbeat, chaotic moods. They weren’t trying to be very artsy, but just immersed in their science fiction.

That isn’t to say that all B movies are what we might consider “good”. In fact, some are terrifically bad (Plan 9 From Outer Space, anyone?).

But their being bad isn’t necessarily a bad thing. They don’t aim high to begin with, and they don’t expect you to expect much of them. They’re the kind of films where you can sit back and say: “This is so stupid, it’s funny.” A. O. Scott of the New York Times described them as “…the cheesy, campy guilty pleasures”, yet fears that “those cherished bad movies” are nearly a thing of the past. In a 2005 article he noticed how what used to be considered B movie material is now moving into the A-list arena, describing the process as how “…the schlock of the past has evolved into star-driven, heavily publicized, expensive mediocrities”. Is it bad that genre films and B movies are getting more mainstream attention now? No, but it is annoying to see all that money wasted on films that focus in on the negative aspects of B movies instead of the positive. It’d be nice if those two categories stayed a bit more separate, instead of having the A- and B-movie lines extremely blurred.

In conclusion, stylized, genre, and B movies are vital aspects of cinema. They are meant to fulfill a simple purpose, whether that is to keep you visually/thematically entertained or give you cheesy enjoyment. And if that purpose is served, it’s a success.


Movies That Make Me Laugh

Hello, fellow readers. I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus, so I thought I’d start up again with an easy piece.

People who are well-acquainted with me know that I have a very particular taste when it comes to comedy. Even I can’t always describe it that well, much less at least assume which films will make me laugh. This leaves me with very few comedies that I actually find funny, and even fewer that I continue to laugh at after multiple viewings. Those few that do make me laugh time and time again, though, are cherished additions to my film collection, and thus worthy of sharing. The following have been attempted to be placed in an ascending order of favoritism.

10. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Pure, quality, and hysterical British comedy at its finest. When I first saw it in eighth grade or so, I didn’t know what to expect. I left amazed at how crazy it was. It was a different form of comedy than what I was used to seeing at the time, one that seems to dabble in parody without becoming bogged down with the cheapness of it. This was also my introduction to British humor, and it didn’t make a bad impression at all.

9. Burn After Reading (2008)

The first time I saw this I was at a party with a bunch of friends. I was laughing my ass off at the movie. My friends weren’t. They complained that they didn’t understand what was going on or what the main idea behind the film was. It’s simple, really: all of the major characters are selfish and a bit stupid and through their greed/stupidity their lives become a bit worse off than they were at the beginning. Plus, there’s a good chemistry between all of the leads that when placed in the story’s whacky situations and with the Coen Brothers’ excellent dialogue, it’s a joy to watch it play out. I don’t see how one couldn’t like it.

8. Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006)

This is more or less on here because this was probably the first Will Ferrell movie I saw and it made an impression on me before I could find out that he plays the same character in every other one of his movies. The comedic timing and delivery in this film was spot-on, which is what keeps me laughing every time I view it.

7. The 40-Year-Old Virgin (2005)

The only Apatow-directed movie I’ve seen, and that may or may not be a good thing. With Apatow’s movies (and I’m counting the ones he produced with this description), it’s very hit or miss. His style of humor seems to take the traditional vulgar comedy routines and put a certain sort of charm, if you will, on them–sort of like a refresh. Sometimes this works, sometimes it’s just mediocre. This one works, particularly because of Steve Carell’s terrific performance as the friendly-yet-socially-awkward Andy Stitzer and the great dialogue that he’s given. That, and the decent supporting cast of Seth Rogen, Paul Rudd, and Romany Malco basically set this film up for non-stop laughs. Apatow had a good directorial debut with this–and can’t much speak for the two films he succeeded this with.


6. The Simpsons Movie (2007)

As Homer points out at the beginning of the film, who would want to see a movie in the theater that everybody could see on television for free? Apparently many people did. The Simpsons have always been a source for sharp, witty satire, but their style is to blend that with parody and that combination is usually successful only in half-hour fragments. Even though this film seems like the combination of three or four individual episodes with a basic plot to hold them together, it never starts to become trivial. The jokes retain their quality and stay pretty fresh. Predictable? Sometimes,but boring? Never.

5. Kick-Ass (2010)

Ultra-violence, comic book references, and geek humor? Sign me up! It’s not really a comedy, but Dave Lizewski’s (played by Aaron Johnson) dialogue and narration both as himself and his superhero alter-ego Kick-Ass is at times awkward to the point of being comic gold. Add his friends and the mysterious and violent superheroes Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage channeling Adam West) and Hit-Girl (Chloe Grace Moretz) and you’ve got a perfect laugh-cringe flick.

4. The Big Lebowski (1998)

I thought this would be higher (even though this is a stoner film, no pun intended), but there were too many other ones to still fit in the list. However, this cult classic has it all: witty dialogue, terrific characterization, and wacky situations that are handled once again with perfect comedic timing by the Coen brothers. Plus, bowling never seemed so trippy before. This film, Dude, definitely abides with me.

The Dude and his companions.

3. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)

What do you get when you have three dumb but good-intentioned escaped convicts trudging their way through the 1930s South and involving themselves with all sorts of tom foolery? A great comedy. It basically has everything that the previous Coen brothers films have that make it so great, but this was the first of their films that I ever saw, so it left a special imprint on my film tastes.

2. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)

Not only is this one of my favorite comedies but it’s also one of my all-time favorite films. It’s a perfect blend of laughs and mystery, a comedy with a neo-noir twist. Robert Downey, Jr. and Val Kilmer have great chemistry as a East Coaster out of his comfort zone and a hard-as-nails and gay private detective, respectively, as they try to solve a case of murder and deceit in Tinseltown. Not only that, but this benefits from Shane Black’s sharp writing and terrific direction when handling this cross-genre flick. He knows how to get you to laugh even in the darkest and worst situations. And for that I applaud him.

1. Pineapple Express (2008)

I know, you’re probably thinking: “Seriously? This guy chose this film to top his list, and nothing that would be considered more or less a classic?” And my answer to that is a solid YES. You don’t have to be high to appreciate this great comedy. This Apatow-produced film centers on bromances, and though there are only two main ones–Seth Rogen and James Franco (and later Danny McBride), and Craig Robinson and Kevin Corrigan–they are terrifically acted out that it makes it not only convincing that these guys are best buds but that they are also true and sometimes dumb stoners. The action is choreographed and the dialogue is written so perfectly and hysterically that you cannot not watch this film and have a smile creep across your face. This film picks me up and makes me laugh no matter what mood I’m in. This film is the bee’s knees, man, and that’s why I place it as my favorite comedy of all time.

Animation Test.

I threw together a test animation over the past few days. It’s not very long and it’s not even that good of quality, but it did put into perspective how much time I’ll have to set aside for animated projects.

For your viewing pleasure:

Like the video description says on its YouTube page, I use the software Pencil to animate and Audacity for sounds. I also use the Wacom Bamboo Pen and Touch Tablet to draw my animations–a low-end but affordable tablet for simple projects like this.

Hopefully this was enough to help kick-start my filmmaking once more. I have some time before I head off to school, so expect to see a project or two before then.

Escapism Through Sequels: Substance May or May Not Be Included

Updated: 08/13/2011 (slightly edited for grammar)

After writing my previous post, my attention was directed at an interesting opposite viewpoint.

The m0vie blog thinks that film buffs’ criticisms at Hollywood’s overabundance of sequels is low. He admits that not all sequels are good, but says neither are many originals either. He thinks it’s unfair for moviegoers to immediately judge movies based on their sequel status. He also says it’s bad to label original movies “good” by default. (Sturgeon’s Law is brought up to validate his point.)

I have to concede to his argument to some degree. Yes, there are many creative and original movies that are crap. And yes, we do tend to forget those original movies that were crap. Why? Because they weren’t worth remembering and odds are nothing new will come of them.

The blogger also states that it’s unfair to claim that independent films are better. Yes, sometimes independent films can be too esoteric for their own good. Yes, sometimes they can be too artsy for anyone to relate to and enjoy. And yes, sometimes there are studio films that are better than the indie ones. But he’s forgetting the problem with sequels: familiarity.

It’s the studios that are hitting low here. They’re dishing out multiple sequels and bad adaptations because of audience familiarity. They assume that moviegoers will think: “Hey, I know those characters!” “Isn’t it fun to see them in a movie?” This allows the studios to cheaply throw something together in favor of recognition than creativity. And it’s a practice that’s becoming rather upsetting.

When a movie is good, it leaves us with an everlasting effect. We as viewers enjoy the characters and script, as they contained a human element. The characters were more than one-dimensional and the story was strong and worth following. Those elements made the film feel genuine and thus provided a fulfilling and enjoyable experience. Thus, we expect any sequels to this film to live up to the original’s grandeur.

But when studios release many of these sequels, it’s offensive to the original film’s legacy. Characters become cardboard cut-outs as action sequences and special effects become the movie stars. Plots simply become maps for the new stars. Actors and other filmmakers behind the scenes are simply names to help in advertising. We might recognize the name of a character, but everything else has changed. It is no longer the film we knew and loved.

The fact that studio heads believe that moviegoers like this cheap garbage is infuriating. Whatever happened to escapism with substance? Why does originality and creativity have to be discarded after a series’ first entry? At times it seems as if that’s all we’re being served. And the studios are serving it with the attitude of: “It’s all that’s available. Take it or leave it.” And that mindset is starting to grow old.

The Plight of Originality in Sequel-Ridden Hollywood

Twenty-seven. Yes, that is the age at which many musicians die, but that’s why it’s important. Twenty-seven is the number of movie sequels that are being released this year. An unprecedented and disappointing record, it marks the beginning of the end of original storytelling.

Sequels (which in this definition also include prequels and reboots) are getting undeniably worse. This is not to say that all sequels are bad. Many have expanded on their original source material and are considered good or even better. “The Godfather: Part II”, “The Dark Knight”, “The Empire Strikes Back”–all are considered classics. The trend of poor sequels, though, has been an unfortunate Hollywood plague of recent times.

The reason for this overflow of sequels is strictly economical. Around the 1980s, studios realized that they could cash in big on film franchises. Aided by the recent success of blockbusters, studios started producing films to pander to fanbases. This would ensure that a movie would still get an audience of devoted viewers. Odds are more people will see a movie with familiar characters and story arcs. Investing in new, original material is too risky.

However, in the pursuit of top-grossing flicks quality was lost. Sequels started losing the solid writing that held together the originals, and characters became stale. They were placed in slightly different situations to purvey the idea of being new. Special effects became the new movie star, and intellect was disregarded. Ideas were recycled, yet the cash came flowing in. The big studio heads could care less about what the critics think.

The economic climate of recent years hasn’t helped the situation, either. With people tightening their belts, they’ll be more wary to spend money on movies. When they do, they’d rather go see movies they know they’ll probably enjoy. Thus, studios started rehashing old classics as reboots and churning out sequels at astounding rates. They’ve also been turning to another cash cow: other various intellectual properties.

Today in Hollywoood, rarely any scripts aren’t simply adaptations or sequels of already-established properties. Rarely will you find a big studio backing an original story. Why? Because there’s no guaranteed money in it. Adapting a popular series of books or comics will attract the masses. An original crime drama will not. If you’re looking for money, which option would you choose? (Not all adaptations are bad–I’m just pointing out how there are few original scripts.)

Major studios need to market their films to as many viewers as possible. They invest a lot of money in their projects and distribute them across the country. They need to ensure that their films cater to as many people as possible. Singling out large groups of people is bad for business. However, in this studio-controlled bleakness, there is still some hope.

Independent films are finding outlets much better than in the past and locating interested audiences. Without studio heads breathing down their neck with expectations, the filmmakers have more creative control. They are able to experiment with original stories and non-traditional genres and storytelling tropes. And some of these films become quite successful (think “Juno”, “Once”, and “Little Miss Sunshine”). If interest in these types of films increases, originality could still thrive.

However, originality is sadly coming to an end in mainstream Hollywood. The audiences are eating up the sequels with an insatiable appetite. Property after property is being adapted. Original scripts either suffer through the cliches of genre or get tossed away. Film is just as much of an art medium as anything found in a museum. And no one wants to keep looking at the same paintings over and over.

In Defense of the Archetype

In the last post I argued against archetypal stories and in support of “exciting” ones. I stated that a person who enjoys one of these stories that follows a conventional plot line and includes many common storytelling elements may easily enjoy another of similar construct based on familiarity, and because of this they may be timid to investigate stories that go beyond these boundaries. However, this is not always the case.

For example, some stories that could be classified under our established meaning of “exciting” focus on the plot more than archetypal stories and try to change things up–sometimes quite drastically. The example that I immediately think of is Christopher Nolan’s Memento. The film is about a man with short-term memory loss who doesn’t remember anything after his wife was murdered, and he embarks on a revenge-fueled quest to find her killer and pay him some retribution. Known for its elaborate storytelling, the plot of the film is actually displayed in reverse, as if we are going in reverse through the protagonist’s short little clips of memory. To add to that, the exposition of the film is also shown through short clips that act as flashbacks throughout the entire film. While this film is an incredible feat of storytelling with a gritty noir-like style, it lacks where most stories of the same ilk do in character development. The main character doesn’t go through that much change (or he does, but he then forgets about it), as do the supporting characters who keep reappearing throughout. In stories like these, the plot is the main character and everyone else is just a device used to help keep it in motion. Stories of any kind provide a form of escapism to the reader/viewer, a chance to experience the life of somebody unique yet relatable (chances are a person has experienced a basic plot structure sometime in their life where they face a major problem and change afterwards–for better or worse). And if the characters in the story aren’t well-developed or fail to go through any sort of change one fails to connect with them.

Other pros of the archetypal story structure is the ability to allow more focus on the style of the piece. The “exciting” stories tend to be plot-driven, resulting in the necessity of many (if not all) things brought up or even vaguely referenced in the story to have some sort of subtle meaning or importance to the plot. Other stories that stick to the basic format can deviate from this necessary importance and add elements that help better support the setting of the piece or add to the genre, allowing one to produce a strong mental image while reading or view a vibrant and rich set of a movie. When focusing on the plot, these can’t be so much enjoyed as they must more or less be scrutinized or tossed to the side. An example I can think of is J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. Besides the many details she throws in there that are important for the understanding of the plot as the series develops, Rowling is able to eloquently elaborate on the magical world that she created by sticking to a conventional story structure. She describes the characters and the setting in so much detail that one almost feels immersed into her wizarding world.

Finally, the archetypal stories tend to have messages and morals that are more straightforward compared to the “exciting” stories. Usually, one need not dig as deep into standard fare as one would into unconventional fare to understand what the author is trying to convey. A person may enjoy this, as they can clearly understand the author’s moral lessons and don’t have to sift through piles of analysis just to understand a specific action of a character. These stories are effective in leaving the reader/viewer with a strong understanding rather than a confused assumption.

The archetypal story structure isn’t a bad thing at all. It allows aspects that can’t be easily attended to in the “exciting” stories to rise to prominence, while allowing creativity to flourish. And if one wants to read or view a story like this, then who am I to criticize?

Sir, You Forgot Your Side of Familiarity!

In the last post I covered why many people say they enjoy “exciting” stories when in reality they just divulge themselves in rather trite, stockish fare. However, I forgot to touch on why these people like the archetypal stories in the first place.

It’s simple, really: because they’re simple. That may sound a bit weird, so allow me to elaborate. Simple stories with basic plot lines and common literary elements are easily recognizable by the public, and thus more readily embraced. Familiarity is preferred over the unexplored vastness, especially when it comes to something that demands a considerable amount of one’s time and attention. People would rather sit through a movie or read an entire book if they had a pretty good feeling that the protagonist would triumph, and that the sequence of events occurred in a timely manner and remained unchanged (Exposition, lots of rising action, climax, a bit of falling action, and a denouement to top it all off–ooh, and throw in a romance! Everybody loves a romance.). And if they like one story that follows these standard guidelines, odds are they’ll like others that are similar. These people will have a more difficult time enjoying stories that are unconventional and break the rules because they’re afraid to journey into the unknown and try something new, to risk a bit of effort to discover what breaks the standards.

Please don’t misinterpret me–I am not saying this archetypal story structure is the Great Plague of Literature or anything like that. In fact, I enjoy this structure in both book and film form from time to time as a bit of relaxation from the heavier pieces. However those heavier pieces allow me to be more intellectually involved, to dig deeper into them and analyze their messages more thoroughly, and to experience tales that don’t fit into the standard mold. But, sadly, relaxation turns into escapism for most and once getting lost in that they rarely ever venture back out. I guess they could use a better map.