Movie Expectations

If you've seen or talked to me in the past week then my disdain for the new Indiana Jones movie is no secret. While I have a great analysis of the film after many conversations and debates, I'll spare you the essay. (Ask me in person or comment below if you'd care to hear/discuss.)

The question I almost always get asked when I dislike a movie is: what were you expecting? As if my standards are set to high or that I've become cynical and jaded. No, I WANTED to love this film as I go into EVERY film rooting for it, hoping it doesn't let me down. Nowadays, they rarely don't.

Was I expecting this film to be better than Raiders of the Lost Ark? Absolutely not. That movie is lightning in a bottle. But when a film is being developed for 19 years, has draft after draft of scripts written by industry heavyweights (Frank Darabont - Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Jeff Nathanson - Catch Me if You Can, David Koepp - Jurassic Park, Spider-Man 1 & 2), has hundreds of millions of dollars at it's disposal, and is a collaboration of the four BEST filmmakers (Spielberg, Lucas, Ford, and Williams) in all of the WORLD, I expect something great and I have every right to.

Have we become so barraged with crap that our expectations have plummeted? Have we become so used to flimsy and heartless stories with computer effects that we now applaud mediocrity? Should the slightly above average Iron Man be the new gold standard? Should we give Indy the thumbs up simply because "it was fun?" 19 years, millions of dollars, best of the business, and all they were able to provide was some fun for 120 minutes? Even my dog could accomplish the same feat. And while it may sound cliche, the ticket price of a movie has skyrocketed and the mild amusement aint worth it anymore. (Get those tickets back down to five bucks and you'll see expectations drop real quick.)

No, I believe films, filmmakers, and filmgoers need to set their sights a bit higher. Outrageous resources, large enough to change the course of small nations, are poured into these projects and people. To whom much is given, much is expected.

No Man's Land

At festivals, talking with other filmmakers and audience members, the question of the day is usually, "What are you hoping is going to happen with your movie?" Nine out of ten times the answer is some sort of distribution deal. Over the last few years, ever since Robert Rodriguez busted open the indie dream with a $7,000 film, there's been an surge of low, micro, and no budget films all competing for that grand distribution prize. But I believe that well has run dry. Big budget films are having a hard enough time competing with one another, along with video games and video on demand, and are given just over a week before being yanked away to DVD. Why in the world would studios take a risk on some low budget independent film? Speed Racer is losing money. George Clooney's Leatherheads was a whisp of smoke, here one second, gone in an instant. What hope do the little films have?

Here's more proof, via Indiepix blog:

• ThinkFilm, in a financial crises having overpaid for films that it can’t make money on in distribution, sells its catalog to a Canadian investor/speculator.
• New Line Cinema, respected for its having pioneered “edgy” films into the mass market, is closed by Warner Bros; 450 jobs in NY and LA lost.
• Picturehouse, run by top indie film distributor Bob Berney, is closed by Warner and titles folded into the studio.
• Warner Independent, the so-called “independent” arm of Warner managed by a former studio exec, Polly Cohen, is closed and folded into the studio.
• Cablevision, owner of the IFC channel, successfully bids an estimated $500 million for the Sundance Channel, now controls all cable presentation of independent film.
• Discovery Networks, after purchasing rights to and then declining to show “Taxi to the Dark Side“, Discovery is rumoured to be closing their independent film activity and may cut back on their support of Silver Docs.

Another example. Let's look at two projects.

Captain Blasto. Took three years to make. Cost $7,000, an additional $2,000 to have DVD's pressed, and roughly $1000 in advertising. To submit to a single film festival costs approx. $45, and we've easily spent hundreds on entering countless fests. If you're not accepted, that money just disappears. If you are accepted you now pay airfare, hotel, food, transportation, etc. A successful screening ends up being approx. 100 - 200 people. Often times that number lingers more around 40, and I've seen as low as 12. All that money for a few dozen people? Well, maybe there's a producer/distributor on the hunt at least. At Sundance sure, to bid on that William H. Macy movie he heard great things about, but they're not at the other eight zillion festivals looking for that goofy film from Munhall. In total, I estimate that approx. 3,000 - 5,000 people have seen Blasto in it's entirety.

Luigi Story. Made in just over two weeks. Cost $100 for some overalls and fake mustaches. Posted to YouTube and advertised the link on a handful of video game blogs. Currently the short has been seen on various sites by over one million people.

Times are changing. The new distribution model, whether it is video on demand or internet, has not solidified itself. We're entering a new season where people are going to be trying all sorts of stuff. Some will work, most won't. I know I've been giving my next project A LOT of thought. What is the best end product? Direct to DVD? Digital download? Web series?

Welcome to no man's land.

Never Again

This morning I got up early to get alot of work done on a current project. After 6.5 hours of work, without a single break, my computer froze for the fifteenth time. The project file became corrupted and everything I had done was lost.

I will NEVER do another film project on a Windows computer again. Never.

My apologies to the basket of blankets in the corner of our bedroom which suffered the wrath of Microsoft's incompetence.

Writing

Been writing all this week which means there's dozens of index cards lining our apartment floor. It's basically like a giant puzzle. So far the story has a REALLY strong first act, a pretty solid third act, and lots of great ideas in the second act that don't quite connect to one another just yet. I have to play around with the placement of current ideas, constantly contribute new ideas, and toss out ideas that no matter how much I may like them, just don't seem to be working.

Mercury Men is a tricky story to tell only because I know beforehand the production will have limited resources. It'd be easy to write, "the Employee dives through the sparkling window, catching the leg of the hovering helicopter moments before plunging to the street below," but making a scene like that happen is impossible. Therefore I have to force myself to come up with creative action sequences based in an office environment. No, our lowly office employee can't hang from the bottom of a helicopter, but what if he was attacked inside a small elevator without a weapon or an escape? That can be just as intense.

I also have to keep telling myself to keep the story incredibly simple. I decided to pursue this film strictly because it can be made cheap and quickly. I don't want it to get bogged down with a complicated story. Mercury Men is more of a fable or fairy tale. A simple story of a man who needed the very moon to come crashing down before he'd change his life.

The Day to Day

Figure I ought to take a break from writing about my thoughts on geeky movies and talk a little business here. The number one question I get asked lately is, "What are you working on now?" Well here's the skinny.

The Mercury Men feature adaptation. I began converting the Mercury Men short into a feature length project which takes a bit deeper into the Employee's life and the world of "The League." Think Die Hard meets Flash Gordon. It's a simple and fun film that can be shot in two weeks with a minimal budget. Planning on filming this before the end of the year.

For those of you who have yet to see the Mercury Men short, send me an e-mail at chris@captainblasto.com and I'll send ya a link.

Production Company. A few months ago I finally formed a production company, Mercury Men Pictures, to finance/produce small budget shorts, features, and web content. It's over at http://mercurymenpictures.com. The company is developing the Mercury Men feature and an untitled short project. It's long overdue, but anyone that knows me knows I'm not Mr. Businessman so I've been dragging my feet.

Captain Blasto project. I hate to be mysterious, but unfortunately I can't go into details on this just yet. I'll break word on here very soon. What I can say is Blasto will be coming in a new format and I'm pretty excited to see how it pans out.

Two VCR's

Nearly all filmmakers can trace their love of movies back to telling really bad, really funny stories as children on Super 8 or VHS camcorders with their friends as actors. I personally have a whole bin full of awful and hysterical old films. I know some of you out there will remember Lighthouse Superheroes, BR, Youth TV, and the ORIGINAL Captain Blasto episodes.

Curt sent me this great little showcase of childhood filmmaking, complete with some hysterical gore and kung fu fighting. My favorite part is to see how he had to do post-production and edit. I'm sure there's many filmmakers out there, myself included, who worked there editing magic with two VCR's.

Be warned the video drops a few f-bombs in the beginning, so I wouldn't have the volume too loud if you're at work.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiQE_Lb801U

Black and White

I'm currently in "black and white phase." It seems that everything I'm writing, filming, and even thinking up recently is in black and white, as evidenced by The Mercury Men. Over the past year, as I discuss the two features I've been developing with various people there is always great concern over them being in black and white. I have to confess I've never quite understood the prejudice towards it. People say "it looks old." What's wrong with something that looks old? And I'd say classic before I said old. Others say "it's really bland, boring." To that I say you're bonkers. Tell me the inserted shots from The Third Man and Sin City look bland or boring. Can you imagine Sin City in color?

Orson Welles called black and white "an actor's best friend," because it focused the audiences attention on the actor rather than the sets, the costumes, etc. Not only do I agree, but I'd take it one step further and say it's a director's best friend as well. Black and white illuminates the framing and composition. Since the brain doesn't have to take in and process colors it focuses elsewhere and it just so happens to land on the most important parts.

I found this clip on YouTube today of Frank Darabont discussing how he had wanted to release his latest film The Mist in black and white. He claims the studios wouldn't even entertain the idea. I realize nobody could say how audiences would have reacted had the film been released in black and white but I know one thing for sure: they would have noticed it. When the trailers for The Mist hit screens it looked just like every other horror movie. Had it been black and white audiences would have at least paid a bit more attention for the simple reason that it looked different. Moriarty over at Aint It Cool News claims that had the film been in black and white it would have made his top ten films of the year, rather than lying around somewhere in the top 50. If only the studios would have been a bit more brave.

Misc.

Thought I'd post some random film related stuff since the past few posts have mostly been Japanese related in some manner.

I just found out that Captain Blasto was the Jury Prize selection for Best Feature Film at GenCon 2007 Film Festival. That's right...2007. August 2007 to be precise. Unfortunately there was some miscommunication and I was never notified that it had won. I was not even aware that it had been accepted or was screening at all actually. I just happened to spot it while randomly checking a few sites yesterday. Regardless, it's an honor, and obviously everyone is thrilled. Throw another set of them palm branches up!

I'm heading to LA this Monday for meetings, meetings, and more meetings. I'm armed with two dozen copies of The Mercury Men and about as many of Captain Blasto. The Blasto DVD packaging was redesigned recently. The first packaging design seemed to confuse people into thinking the movie was animated. I've been swapping around the photos into different panels, so this image isn't final, but you get the idea.

Two DVD's which should be at the top of your list to watch. In the Shadow of the Moon, documenting NASA's Apollo program and the first moon landing, and King Of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, about a science teachers run for the Donkey Kong world record. Both are remarkable in their own ways. Shadow of the Moon features some of the most stunning archive photography I've ever seen. Kong features a great stuggle against some of the pettiest enemies film has ever offered.

Super Grover

For our first anniversary my wife Ashley bought me a framed poster of Super Grover (as seen above), painted by the indescribably talented Alex Ross. Super Grover's rare appearances were easily my favorite part of Sesame Street, which I chalk up as extension of my life-long love of Superman. I was even Super Grover for Halloween.

What I love about this poster, beyond simple nostalgia, is the combination of Alex Ross' mythic style with a silly little Muppet parody. This is how I imagine Grover would picture himself in his own mind. Not confined to only being seen from the waist up. Free of the those little sticks operating his arms. Soaring past us like the very hero he's imitating.

For me this poster illustrates a common super-hero theme and a belief I have long held: the hope that we can become more than our natural environment would normally allow. No longer confined by the situations or circumstances in which we find ourselves. It's a theme which I discover in all of my films and screenplays. Colin trying to break free from obscurity in Captain Blasto. The lowly office drone responsible for defending the universe in The Mercury Men. And in my own life, trying my damnedest to create a film career.

I can't speak for other arts or careers, but there is one thing that filmmaking has in abundance: criticism. It's nearly every day that you're being told what the value of your work is, that what your doing is foolish, and that you just aren't good enough. No wonder there's so many stories about egomaniacal directors. They had to build themselves up in their mind just to combat the onslaught of their early years.

And so in its own simple way, this poster serves as a reminder to me that even if I sometimes look or even feel like a silly Muppet parody, it's only a disguise concealing something far greater.

To Each His Own

One of the questions I often ask someone when I'm first getting to know them is what their favorite movie is. You can tell a lot about someone based on their favorite films. (It's a Wonderful Life is mine. Analyze away.) Favorite films illustrates a unique aspect of life: what one person may cherish, another may be completely indifferent towards.

Take the above picture for example. That's the house where I grew up. Without a doubt it is the most important place on the planet to me. But to you, it's a rusty truck next to a willow tree. Or how about when you attend a wedding. To the bride and groom that day will be one of the most important of their lives, and you're thinking "is the reception a buffet?"

Films, like some other arts, has the ability to bring a group together into a shared experience, and simultaneously polarize their feelings.

Miserable Artist

Found this at http://www.kerismith.com/blog/ and thought it quite accurate.

Never Wait

I'm a long time reader of a website containing dozens of great articles on screenwriting by Terry Rosio and and Ted Elliot (Aladdin, Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy). These guys GET what makes a great story.

I recently came across an article on the site that knocked me on my ass. Somebody working in a craft as uncertain and fickle as film production constantly needs fuel tossed into the fire. For all the rejection, criticism, failure, and self-doubt, you sometimes need a message that gets you through the next leg of the race. This article was that to me. It's VERY long, but well worth the read, and applicable to all.

"Never Wait" by Terry Rossio

Opportunity meets Readiness

I landed on Jenna (Pam Beasley) Fischer's mySpace blog today and found a great post with advice for those of us pursuing careers in the entertainment industry:

I have a great acting coach who says that success in Hollywood is based on one thing: Opportunity meets Readiness. You cannot always control the opportunities, but you can control the readiness. So, study your craft, take it seriously. Do every play, every showcase, every short film, every student film you can get. Swallow your pride. Be willing to work for nothing in things you think are stupid. Make work for yourself. Make your own luck. Don't complain. Hopefully, the work will find you if you are ready.

You can read the rest of her entry here.

The Story Behind the Film

I haven't been particularly discreet about my negative critique of Superman Returns. I've posted at least three blog entries explaining it's shortcomings.

I think I've been a bit too hard on the film.

Here's why. I watched a lot of the behind-the-scenes features on the film tonight. Within a few short minutes I noticed a few things about the cast and crew, Brandon Routh especially: they worked RIDICULOUSLY hard, treated the history and character with utmost respect, and had a lot of fun making it. How can I tear down an effort like that? Now I realize you're supposed to judge a film strictly on the film itself, but if that were how every film were judged, Captain Blasto wouldn't have received a fraction of the positive response it has.

A lot of people pull for Captain Blasto because of the story behind it. A first time director, a small crew, $7,000 budget, etc. Now that I've taken a closer look at the story behind Superman Returns, I suddenly found myself pulling for them. More than that all I could think of is, "I want to be there. I want to be working with them." They really were trying to make a great film. Did they miss the mark? Yes unfortunately. But it wasn't from lack of effort.

A great film is a stroke of magic that many directors will NEVER experience. Even Spielberg hasn't been able to call that magic at will. Lucas, with his billions, can't buy it. It can't be planned on. You can only try your damndest. And for the amazing attempt I was previously unaware of, an attempt that resulted in an decent film with some incredible moments, I'll support the next film wholeheartedly.

In the future I'm going to make sure I look further into the how the film was made before advertising it's faults.

Why Waste Your Time?

Back when George Lucas was under HEAVY criticism for his ridiculously boring return to filmmaking with The Phantom Menace, he was often heard using the excuse: I have to get through the boring part of the story to get to the good stuff.

Years later I read any interview by one half of the writing due behind another ridiculously boring film, Superman Returns. Here's what he has to say.

"I know that Bryan [Singer, the director] has said he's going to Wrath of Khan it, and by that he means, 'Let's take what we've already established--we've gotten that out of the way--and let's just make it shorter, tighter and more action-packed."

Get through the boring part? Get that out of the way? Here's a question: why even make that part? Why waste the time, money, and energy? Why have an entire film of exposition just to get to a sequel? Go right to the "good" movie and build what little exposition we actually need into it. Or better yet, show that incredible talent that got you to that point and make the boring movie exciting. Now when I say exciting I do not mean more explosions. I mean more power, more emotion. Even a quiet scene can be more powerful than a asteriod collision.

Audiences should NEVER be asked to sit through a boring scene to get to and exciting one, let alone and ENTIRE FILM.

Inherited Imagery

I've been reading alot of Joseph Campbell recently. He's best known for his studies on mythology and was made widely known to recent generations by his published conversations with George Lucas. In his book Primitive Mythology he discusses an idea brought about by a study conducted on newborn birds. As I read it, I couldn't help but connect his idea to the image of Colin being entranced by the strength and feats of Captain Blasto, or my own infatuation with Superman.

A wooden hawk would be flown over a baby chick by a string. The chick would instantly hide in fear. A wooden duck would be flown over the same chick and it would remain calm. Several different shapes of varying bird species were tried, but only the hawk would illicit the fearful behavior. The chick has NEVER seen a hawk, but still it is equipped with the instincts to take flight from it. The question posed by Campbell is this: if all hawks ceased to exist, would the chick still fear it's image?

Another question was also raised: what images may lie buried within animals and(or) man which they are equipped to fear, but have since vanished? Should those images suddenly reappear in some form, even art, would it illicit some seemingly irrational behavior? Does a child fear the image of a witch because they read fairy tales as a child? Or was there some creature long ago that are instincts tell us should be avoided?

The reverse of this idea, images that we are drawn to, could also be true. Take the imagery of super-heroes for example. Am I life long Superman fan because he was "given" to me in toys and movies as a child? Or were some great and terrible figures once present among humanity which we as children are inheritantly equipped to be in awe of? The idea of a super-hero is by no means new. It's traced down through characters like Hercules and Beowulf. Have we always been drawn to these characters, as the popular notion suggests, because they represent what we wish we were or could be? Or do generations keep rendering these ideas into our art because deep down it's written into each of us, although all traces of them once existing are now gone?

One Goal

Most of the creative projects I work on, both for my paying job and film work, involve working with a team of people. Sometimes it works amazingly. Other times, not so well. Beyond general working relationship issues, what is it that either makes or breaks the group project? The goal. Does everyone know the goal? Does everyone have the same goal? Is the goal still the same? The best I've ever heard it put was by Sidney Lumet, director of 12 Angry Men, Murder on the Orient Express, and Serpico. As a director he said his primary goal is to make sure "everyone is making the same movie."

My first exposure to this was while writing Captain Blasto. If I were to pitch a scene to Aaron and Ben one of them may spin the scene into action the other into slapstick. None of us were right or wrong, we were just coming at it from our own angle. It's my role as a director, not to make all of my own ideas rise to the top, but to facilitate all our ideas to make sure we're making one coherent story. If our goal is a comedy we'll lean into the slapstick, if it's a drama we'll lean into the action scene.

I've been involved in several projects lately where this was not the case. Either very few knew the goal, the goal consistently changed, or everyone had their own goal. What do you get? A schizophrenic project. It looks one way, acts another, and says something completely different. I can spot a schizophrenic project from a mile away and I avoid them at all costs, unless of course it's part of my day job in which it's not an option.

How do you make sure everyone is "making the same movie?" Here's my thoughts on it:

1) Make sure YOU know what "movie" you're making. No, you don't have to have every detail worked out. If you did, what's the team for? But you BETTER know the CORE idea and be able to talk about it at great length if so requested. If it's a film, what do you want the story to "say?" If it's marketing, what "feel" or "look" are you aiming for? Know that before you pull anyone else in. People don't like leading leaders.

2) Make sure EVERYONE knows the goal. Write it out. Print a banner. Do whatever it takes to make sure it's big, bold, easy to understand, and impossible to miss. For me it's typicaly a sentence. For the next script I'm working on I've got a simple sentence: memory and choices control identity. Every single person that works on this project will know that sentence and will aim their work at it.

3) Give people time to digest the goal. I've wrongfully held and attended brainstorm, writing, and graphics sessions where the goal has been presented and the team was INSTANTLY requested to provide ideas and(or) work that illuminated it. They barely understand it. How could they possibly spit out anything worthy of advancing it? The director may not realize that they've had this stewing inside for a while (hopefully), but to everyone else it's brand new. People need time to take in the idea, visualize it, and dream about how they can contribute to it. Depending on the project this is something that may be better measured in weeks than in days or hours.

4) Do NOT keep changing the goal, BUT IF YOU DO, make sure everyone knows the new goal. One of the most depressing things for an artist or creative developer is to have them spend time, energy, and resources on a piece of the project, only to have it either dropped because it doesn't match the new goal, or to have it stay but sit out there like an orphan without any tie to the rest of the project. If you say you're making a website that should look like an Etch-a-Sketch and your tech guys design a real working digital version of the famous toy, they're going to be REALLY frustrated and less likely to work as hard next time when you announce the site is now going to look like a Magna Doodle. It's just as bad if you keep the Etch-a-Sketch in the middle of the new design. They feel like they've contributed AGAINST the goal rather than with it.

This isn't to say you must be locked into a goal just because some work has already started and you're afraid to hurt some feelings. You just have to be aware of the pro's and con's of shifting your goal. If it becomes common practice, you're going to have a very difficult time getting people to contribute.

5) Make sure EVERY idea is aimed at the goal. Let's look at the movie The Incredibles. What's the goal? A comedy about a family of out of work super-heroes. What if I pitch a scene in which a villain uses a death ray to destroy the family station wagon. Does it fit the goal? It's funny and it's within the comic book genre. The idea is worth pursuing. What if I pitch a scene in which the family of super-heroes sacrifice their lives in stopping a terrorist from detonating a car bomb? Worthy of a super-hero, yes. Comic, absolutely not. It's an extreme idea, but I've seen many projects where ideas get developed and often times used that don't support or advance the goal.

6) Make sure you know the goal...still. When you get in the middle of the project it's incredibly easy to follow into details mode. When you're just taking care of the urgent details, don't lose sight of the big picture. Keep looking at your big old banner.

Agree? Disagree? Comments and such, post them here or e-mail me at chris@captainblasto.com.

Learn Something New Every Week

Each Sunday, when the estimated ticket sales are finally tallied up and released to the press, studio executives are often quotes as to what they have learned from the information. Today, when the estimated ticket sales for Snakes on a Plane was revealed to be just over $15 million, Brandon Gray of boxofficemojo.com released this pearly nugget of wisdom:

"This tells you that you need to have a compelling story or premise to get an audience for your movie."

Thank you Mr. Gray. Clearly you deserve whatever role it is you serve over at boxofficemojo.com.

My problem isn't the blatantly obvious statement, or the fact that Snakes on a Plane only pulled in $15 mil. It's that EVERY single Sunday the press, movie execs, and critics look at this weekend as a monumental lesson, a solid rule of the business to be followed from here on. When Mission Impossible didn't perform as expected it was "The movie has little connection to the show anymore. They've lost their roots." When Superman Returns didn't break every record it was "Superman is an outdated icon for a past time. Batman is the new hero for America." Now with World Trade Center failing to take the number one spot, what do we read? "The audience knows how it ends. There's nothing to captivate them." If that's true how did Titanic manage to rake in billions? Melanie and I probably account for at least a 1/3 of that.

What happens is studio execs force these new found rules on their writers/directors, and then when a new movie with the new rules comes out two - three years later, either 1) they were wrong or 2) the audience has changed. They give a 5 second assessment of what went wrong THIS time and make NEW rules for the future.

How bout these assessments. Mission Impossible III: Tom, we were sick of seeing your face EVERYWHERE in the months leading up to your movie. Cut back on publicity next time. Superman Returns: So you didn't break the records? Big freakin' deal. Not every movie breaks records. You can't plan for it and you can't make it happen. World Trade Center: I don't mind knowing the ending, but I won't spend an afternoon with Nicholas Cage in that stupid mustache. I realize people like Jennifer Aniston and Will Ferrel pull people to the theater. Some people like them so much they're see whatever movie they're in, regardless of it's story. Somehow Hollywood doesn't quite get that Nicholas Cage does not happen to be one of those people.

Let's try some future rules.

Beerfest: Following Mel Gibson's DUI, the mood of the country has shifted from glorifying alcohol.
Ghost Rider: Audiences weren't ready to relive a tragic story paralleling the Ben Roethlisberger accident.
Jackass 2: The teenagers that once flocked to the first film have grown up.
Hollywoodland:
Crossover: The miscasting of the Jan Elkins and Josh Wildman characters destroyed the validity of the story.
The Black Dahlia: People confused the film with the popular video game staring Dennis Hopper and Kevin Vinay.

Why am I so critical?

My wife hates going to movies with me. Why? Because once the credits roll and she inevitably asks if I liked it, nine out of ten times I reply no. On top of that I respond with 20+ areas where they went wrong, most of which revolves around the script structure. "You don't like ANYTHING," she says. Not true. It's that I LOVE movies that I'm so critical. I know what they CAN be. I feel like I'm showing up at Benihana's and they're handing me a Hoss' filet. Either they've got to make a better steak or I've got to realize I keep accidentally walking into Hoss'.

I like movies so intensely that I am frustrated by their general lack of quality and creativity. I expect more than they consistently offer. And considering the millions of dollars and hundreds of talented and well paid people behind them, is that expectation out of line? Everyone dislikes bad movies. I dislike mediocre movies.

There's a misconception that film critics and filmmakers don't like anything but old movies. Also not true. It's not that old movies were better, it's just that over the decades the good ones have remained while those mediocre ones have disappeared. You may have liked Scream or The Waterboy, but in 2030 it will be forgotten. The Lord of the Rings won't. When Casablanca was on screens I'm sure it was surrounded by mediocrity too.

The common movie goer defense is, "Well, it was entertaining." Sure, seeing Superman stop a plane from crashing is entertaining. Watching the tripod aliens blow up cars around Tom Cruise is entertaining. But I don't watch movies to just be entertained, comedies being the exception. I have video games and a puppy to do that. I don't pay ten dollars to be entertained for an hour and a half. I go to the movies to be affected, changed. To have questions asked. To face situations I have, haven't, can't, or won't face in my own life.

After any movie where I generally am the only person who disliked the movie I am constantly asked what I was looking for. What was it lacking. There were good actors, there were good scenes, it was funny, the effects were great, etc. What were you looking for? It's incredibly simple. Beyond all the actors, scenes, effects, etc., I want a well told story. Every great film is a story well told. How is a story told well? Here is my opinion, backed by a history of successful films. I write this just so those of you reading this get a better understanding of the reviews I make on here and the films I hope to write.

Ask yourself if your favorite films follow this model. I will also use Captain Blasto in my examples just to illustrate how I try to write, not to compare it to great films.

The film illustrates how the main character typically lives their life. Luke is a down and out farmboy. Rocky is a hitman. Rick is a shady nightclub owner in a seedy little African town. Colin goes unnoticed.

Something happens throwing the characters life out of the normal, either in a positive or negative way. Luke buys R2D2 and C3PO. Rocky gets the call to fight Apollo Creed. Ilsa walks into Rick's Cafe. Colin is scared into doing something by Daryl.

The character seeks to find a solution, reach their goal, obtain the prize. They are opposed by a series of obstacles. Luke and crew are taken into the Death Star and must escape with the Princess and the plans. Rocky trains, opposed by his own feeling of worthlessness. Rick arranges a flight for himself and Ilsa to America behind the backs of her husband, Maj. Strasser, and Capt. Renault. Colin stages robberies as his hero Captain Blasto continually having to avoid both detection and police.

The obstacles change the character, preparing them for their final obstacle. Luke goes from farmboy to fighter pilot. Rocky swaps his lonely life for a relationship with Adrien. Rick begins to shed his selfish ways as he returns to his relationship with Ilsa. Colin, braver and more, becomes noticed as his fictional counterpart.

Equipped with everything they've learned throughout the question, the character faces one final obstacle with everything on the line. Luke flies down the Death Star trench pursued by Darth Vader. Rocky fights Apollo Creed. Rick holds Capt. Renault at gunpoint. Colin stands up to Evan.

The hero either succeeds or fails in their quest. Luke blows up the Death Star. Rocky loses to Apollo but learns his self worth. Rick gives up his tickets for Ilsa and Victor Laszlo. Colin slams Evan.

The total quest changes the character for good. Luke becomes the hero. Rocky becomes a national underdog "champion." Rick is back in the fight. The classroom falls quiet as Colin enters.

The total quest raises a question in our own lives. Would you be willing to jump into a righteous fight if great odds were against you? Would you be able to step out of you hum drum life to attempt something great? Would you sacrifice your own well being for someone you love? Have you sacrificed your dreams for the boring responsiblity of life?

What movies follow this besides the ones I've mentioned? Raiders of the Lost Ark, It's a Wonderful Life, Chinatown, Bridge on the River Kwai, Wizard of Oz, The Incredibles, Gladiator, Braveheart, and Jaws to name a few more.

Now, will something like Superman Returns stand up to the decades? Unlikely. Why? What did Superman want? We don't know. What was opposing him from reaching his goal? Nothing. There was conflict, yes, but none of it related to anything other than watching him do neat stuff. How did Superman change as a result of his quest? He didn't. What was the point of watching the movie then? To see Superman do neat stuff. Three hundred and fifty million dollars and twenty eight years later just to see Superman do...neat stuff? Sorry I expect a bit more.

The Decline of Western Theaters

Here's a topic I've been ridiculously interested in for the past few months: the consistent fall in theater attendance. Studios and theater chains are freaking out. Not as many people are going to see movies as much. Why? Well according to the "experts" out in Hollywood, here's the top reasons, in particular order.

1. Cell phones ringing during films
2. Lack of advertising
3. People would rather watch DVD's and iPods
4. Price of tickets
5. Bad movies

Which of course is further evidence that Hollywood is crazy. Cell phones? That's numero uno? Sure, it's annoying, but that doesn't happen enough to make it number one. I can count how many times it's happend to me on one hand. But the biggest joke of them all: lack of advertising. Would you describe movie advertising as "lacking?" I tell you, I just can't get enough of these commercials for that groundbreaking gymnastics movie Stick It and it's hilarious trailer line "It's not called gym-nice-tics." My favorite is when movie advertisements take over whatever web page your on. You thought you were looking up Yahoo and then suddenly Freddy Krueger slashes through the page, "Check out my trailer or I'll cut you in your dreams!" Thanks Freddy, I wasn't in the mood to read FoxTrot today anyways. But if you don't want to see the ad, don't worry, there's that microscopic Close link hidden somewhere on the ad, which of course is much harder to find than Waldo or Bin Laden.

I could be wrong, but the iPod? You're really blaming it on the iPod? Would you rather watch Spider-Man 2 on a theater screen or your iPod. Who's taking that two and half inch screen over theaters? Sure DVD's might take a bit away, but that's only because 1) you don't leave movies in theaters long enough so we probably missed it (see previous post) or 2) you can buy a DVD for the same price as 2 tickets to the theater (and then sell it to Blockbuster if it sucks to make a few bucks back.) Which brings us to the conclusion and CP's Top 5 list of reasons for the demise of theater attendance:

1. Bad movies
2. Bad movies
3. Bad movies
4. Bad movies
5. Price of tickets

Movies are awful ninety percent of the time. Make better movies, we'll pay to see them. Keep making bad movies, then you better lower those ticket prices so we don't feel like we're taking such a gamble. Example: Stealth. Otherwise known as Jamie Foxx's quick paycheck. A robotic fighter jet that turns on it's creators. The only thing I will pay $9.00 to go see that's THAT bad in this town is the Pirates, and that's because the OTHER team might do something exciting. What can a good movie accomplish? Look at the original Star Wars. Most people went and saw that +5 times in the theater. I racked up 15 myself. That's $135 bones for ONE MOVIE. What about the new Star Wars movies? Once. Saw them once, and even that was too much. That's $9 Mr. Lucas. Better movies are more profitable.

But sure Hollywood, keep on pumping out stuff like The Day After Tomorrow, Pink Panther, Final Destination 3, Big Momma's House, and RV. And we'll keep NetFlixing things like Casablanca, Lawrence of Arabia, Chinatown, and Rear Window.