#917. Warrior, The National, “About Today”

 

2011 ended up being a crazy year for me. The last movie I saw in theaters was Warrior that September. But, oh was I rewarded.

Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton play brothers who end up fighting in an MMA tournament by the end of the movie, and of course in the final round they face each other. It’s the definition of classic filmmaking, possibly the last time Hollywood revisited its Golden Age successfully. 

It’s a sequence pumped full of drama, and the denouement is pitch perfect, in part because of the song playing in the background, “About Today” by The National.

Now, because by 2011 pop rock had all but disappeared from radio and pop culture in general, I knew nothing at all about The National, and didn’t pursue them on their own terms for more than a decade. In fact it wasn’t until last year when they had one of those compilation discs attached to a music magazine that I finally did, promoting their latest CD, which I also subsequently got.

If all this had played out just a few years prior, it would’ve been very different. 2011 was the beginning of a whole downturn in my circumstances, so I had very little money to play with by the time I discovered The National. I was grateful for having that moment in Warrior with them, and the memory to keep them in mind long enough to get back to them at some point.

#912. Lineage of Song “The Weary Kind”

Colin Farrell

Jeff Bridges

Ryan Bingham

This one's a departure from what I've been talking about, since all three versions of "The Weary Kind" included above were done at the same time, for the same reason, a film called Crazy Heart. 

It's just interesting, to me, that even that's possible, that we so seldom think of how radically different a song can sound if a different person is singing, not merely in a rearrangement but in the vocals themselves.  Jeff Bridges sounds completely different than Colin Farrell, Bridges playing the cagey veteran who gifts Farrell the song, which in the real world was composed by Ryan Bingham, who later became a little better known for a supporting role in Yellowstone, where he sometimes sings, too (his introduction merrily jokes about how depressing his music sounds).

And I've loved the song, regardless of who sings it, since I first saw the film.  I was reminded recently of how canned music written for movies has become in recent years, but "The Weary Kind" is a considerable exception.  Much of what Bridges sings to represent a legendary career is a little on the nose (written sometimes to comment on the state in which we find him rather than to reflect on a heyday).  "Weary Kind" is a song that eclipses this fictional output and sounds like it could easily have landed on the radio in real life.  Maybe it did?  I don't know.  

Jack Nicholson’s Final Role

How Do You Know was released in theaters December 2010.

My mother had just begun her battle with cancer. I was still working at Borders. My niece wasn’t born yet, but she was developing in uterus. 

And this was Jack Nicholson’s final film. It was also James L. Brooks’s final film.

I’m watching it for the first time as I write this. I lost track of Nicholson’s career, how long ago it ended. He’s 84 now, so he retired from acting in his 70s. Watching him in How is actually strange; even though I had seen him in plenty of movies from around that time, including one of my all-time favorites, The Departed, from four years earlier, he clearly seems older. It’s not hugely surprising that he decided he was done. He goes for the usual Nicholson gusto, but doesn’t really have it anymore. And it’s even a pretty small part. He plays at least fourth banana behind leads Reese Witherspoon, Paul Rudd and Owen Wilson (all three known for being extremely likable, and living up to it), and arguably behind even Kathryn Hahn, who at this point was still building her career of stealing scenes in supporting roles.

Nicholson famously dominated the screen. That was his whole thing. He wasn’t by any stretch a conventional leading man, but he ascended assuredly up the Hollywood ladder in the ‘70s until he was his own genre. Somehow he seemed like he’d do it forever, and then he was just gone. And he’s stayed gone for more than a decade.

How was received as a minor rom com, of little note. No one knew it would be Nicholson’s last film, although if you read between the lines you can tell Brooks knew it was his last. And probably even as he was filming, Nicholson did, too. 

The problem with a lot of critics is that they all too often take their job for granted. Witherspoon infuses her performance with the kind of determination to prove herself beyond the Legally Blonde reputation she had theoretically achieved with the Oscar win for Walk the Line, but she knew as well as anyone that when a mainstream leading actress wins one of those, it’s basically a gimme, and nobody really expects anything “good” from them again. And Rudd is Rudd, and Wilson of course is Wilson, which is to say reliably watchable. Rudd still gets taken for granted a decade later, and yeah, so does Wilson.

The thing about movies is that once an initial reception has been registered, it’s very hard to change (even cult films never really break out of cult status). I’m not saying that just because it’s Nicholson’s (and Brooks’) final film, you should consider it, I don’t know, a classic. But it didn’t deserve to be dismissed in 2010, and it does deserve a look in 2021. It’s a good movie with a great cast. But yeah, it’s now got a distinct historic sheen to it, and is well worth the effort of appreciating it for that. 

The case for the adjusted box office.

Recently I really got into the concept of adjusted box office totals.  It put things into perspective.  But I still like the unadjusted box office receiving primary attention. 

Its main strength is keeping the focus on the here-and-now.  It helps new things seem relevant.  If we really were guiding ourselves by the adjusted box office, we'd realize how much times really have changed, that it really is tough to compete with the past.  And listen, I see that enough already.  Music critics remain frozen by the popular acts of yesterday.  The stuff they like today is all indy stuff, stuff few people enjoy.  Really, only the critics and hipsters.  It's different with books.  Keeping the classics alive and relevant in that context means a much bigger window: centuries and even millennia.  That's definitely worth preserving.  But movies aren't that old.  And the art of filmmaking has definitely changed since its origins a little over a century ago.

Gone with the Wind remains, with the adjusted box office, the most popular film ever made.  I think it's a terrible movie, except for Clark Gable, for too many reasons.  It doesn't work as well in 2018 as it did 1939, and all its rereleases.  It just doesn't, and it would be horrible to try and insist it does.  It would be one thing if its period-specific qualities reflected well, or commented insightfully, on its times.  But they don't.

Most of the other adjusted box office hits have aged much better than that, and that's great.  In terms of how easy it was to rack up a lot of money, hey, there used to be a lot more money available.  You don't realize that until you look at stuff like adjusted box office totals.  It isn't really that there's a lot more stuff to entertain us in 2018.  We still have big hits.  We just have shorter attention spans, and we're a lot more vicious now, I think, than we have been since movies became the popular art form.  We spend a lot more time talking about the stuff we hate.  And maybe it's also because of changing demographics.  There are fewer babies being born.  That shifts things considerably right there.  An aging population will naturally have less patience, without any help from an increased cynical outlook.

So it's good to have the illusion that what we like matters.  It does matter, in the present.  It drives us to seek new things, even if it seems we spend all our time rejecting it.  It keeps everyone striving for new challenges, especially if we keep rejecting everything.  I mean, you couldn't ask for a better audience!  A hungrier audience!  An audience that never feels satiated is one that will always be looking for the next big thing.  Eventually something truly big happens.  That's going to be the biggest surprise of all.  We haven't been close in years. 

So while I've gained newfound appreciation for the adjusted box office, I think I'll keep my focus on the unadjusted one.  It's the most fascinating game in town.

Adjusted Box Office 6/4/18

The idea of the adjusted all-time box office never appealed to me.  It always seemed like a way to hang onto the idea that movies that were once popular technically still counted as popular.  Another way might be that movies today maybe really aren't as popular as they used to be, which is unsettling to think.  Today we have outrageous box office totals compared to just a handful of years ago.  But the fact is, even those hits barely scratch the surface of all-time popularity.  People just don't go to the movies like they used to.  The idea of adjusted grosses helps put into perspective the ridiculousness of inflation most of all.  That's just one indication of where the economy still has a long way to go to recover from the Great Recession.  Folks, we're not even close, but a lot of people decided it was good enough years ago.

So, after a long time silently (mostly) protesting the idea of the adjusted gross, let's see what it looks like, the top fifty movies, and where current massive hits fall within them:

1. Gone with the Wind (adjusted: $1,850B; unadjusted: $198M) (1939)
This has always been the most problematic element of the adjusted box office list.  In hindsight it's a massive indication of how far the culture had to go from segregated times, as it celebrates the Lost Cause, which itself was all about being unapologetic about the slave-holding past.  Even as we condemn a president many claim is motivated by racist views, the most successful movie in American history suggests the rest of us aren't really any better.

2. Star Wars (adjusted: $1,631B; unadjusted: $460M) (1977)
In the modern era, Star Wars defined the blockbuster, made the blockbuster, and its legacy is still felt today in a continuing series of sequels and spin-offs.  Until inflation went into overdrive, it was still firmly nestled in the unadjusted top ten.  Here it's still up there, and unlikely to leave anytime soon.

3. The Sound of Music (adjusted: $1,304B; unadjusted: $158M) (1965)
Today it seems totally impossible for a musical to be a massive hit without being a kid's animated flick, but the genre used to be a reliable source of big business.  This was the last and biggest of them.

4. E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (adjusted: $1,299B; unadjusted: $435M) (1982)
The truth is, Steven Spielberg's instincts became adopted by kids animated flicks, too.  That's exactly what this would be in 2018.

5. Titanic (adjusted: $1,241B; unadjusted: $659M) (1997)
The last of the adult dramas to hit big, and to hit so big it was totally inconceivable.  Also since ignored as an object lesson is box office projecting; everyone said this would be a disaster of a different kind.

6. The Ten Commandments (adjusted: $1,199B; unadjusted: $65M) (1956)
Arguably, after Star Wars this is the old-time blockbuster with the longest legs: it's still broadcast every year at Eastertime.

7. Jaws (adjusted: $1,173B; unadjusted: $260M) (1975)
Along with Star Wars, gave birth to the modern blockbuster.

8. Doctor Zhivago (adjusted: $1,137B; unadjusted: $111M) (1965)
A somewhat lost famous example of the classic Hollywood historic epic.

9. The Exorcist (adjusted: $1,013B; unadjusted: $232M) (1973)
The prototype of the horror genre, still completely unmatched, except by the recent trend of microbudget productions.

10. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (adjusted: $998M; unadjusted: $84M) (1937)
This is how Disney happened, and what Disney chased for years, until it had enough money to buy blockbuster franchises.

11. Star Wars: The Force Awakens (adjusted: $990M; unadjusted: $936M) (2015)
The biggest modern hit doesn't even crack the top ten!  Its box office total looks completely ridiculous because it is, but it does represent a lot of money, and exposure.  That's more than any other Star Wars movie besides the original made.  Clearly that means a lot of people who weren't around for the original's release saw it and tried to comprehend what they saw, and are still trying to reconcile the saga with today's movies.  That's what's happened to the last few movies.

12. 101 Dalmatians (adjusted: $915M; unadjusted: $144M) (1961)
In hindsight it's not surprising that this was the first movie Disney translated from animated to live action, years later.  What's surprising is that Disney still hasn't done it for its biggest hit.

13. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (adjusted: $899M; unadjusted: $290M) (1980)
The somewhat screwy economics of the few years between the second and third entries in the saga, apparently, mean the third made more at the time, but less in hindsight.

14. Ben-Hur (adjusted: $897M; unadjusted: $74M) (1959)
The shifting values of the population means that one of the biggest box office successes in one era was a total flop, as a remake, in another.

15. Avatar (adjusted: $891M; unadjusted: $760M) (2009)
James Cameron's massive success a second time became something a lot of people struggled to downplay.  The real results won't be known until the sequels finally appear.

16. Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (adjusted: $861M; unadjusted: $309M) (1983)
This is that third Star Wars movie.

17. Jurassic Park (adjusted: $839M; unadjusted: $402M) (1993)
Spielberg made Jaws and helped set the stage for Star Wars; years later he made this, and did it again.

18. Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (adjusted: $827M; unadjusted: $474M) (1999)
Looking at the adjusted grosses, it doesn't seem so surprising that the prequels proved less popular than the original Star Wars movies; the unadjusted grosses tell a very different story.  They really were less popular all along.

19. The Lion King (adjusted: $816M; unadjusted: $422M) (1994)
The artistic high point of the Disney animated renaissance.

20. The Sting (adjusted: $816M; unadjusted: $156M) (1973)
This may be the epitome of Old Hollywood, the system where stars sold the material above everything else.  This is the second teaming of Paul Newman and Robert Redford, after Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

21. Raiders of the Lost Ark (adjusted: $811M; unadjusted: $248M) (1981)
Spielberg and Star Wars creator George Lucas collaborate for the ultimate combination of old and new Hollywood: Harrison Ford, emerging as a star, in blockbuster material.

22. The Graduate (adjusted: $783M; unadjusted: $104M) (1967)
Dustin Hoffman, once dismissed as unlikely to be a star, proved to field one of the most successful star-based movies ever.

23. Fantasia (adjusted: $760M; unadjusted: $76M) (1941)
Arguably still the most innovative movie ever made.

24. Jurassic World (adjusted: $724M; unadjusted: $652M) (2015)
After the second and third in the franchise underperformed, it seemed as if this concept was done, but the fourth brought it back to blockbuster status.

25. The Godfather (adjusted: $722M; unadjusted: $134M) (1972)
Heralded a new era of superstar directing in Hollywood and highlighted Marlon Brando one last time and Michael Pacino for the first.

26. Forrest Gump (adjusted: $720M; unadjusted: $330M) (1994)
A lot of people struggle to interpret this one's draw, and that's when you know the era of the star was effectively over, because it's really down to Tom Hanks.

27. Mary Poppins (adjusted: $716M; unadjusted: $102M) (1964)
Disney magic pure and simple.

28. Grease (adjusted: $705M; unadjusted: $188M) (1978)
The musical and the bad boy tale (Rebel Without a Cause, The Wild One) converge to solidify John Travolta for the first time in his career as a star.  The rest of his career is further proof of the death of the star.

29. Marvel's The Avengers (adjusted: $704M; unadjusted: $623M) (2012)
Proof of concept for the further franchise.

30. Black Panther (adjusted: $699M; unadjusted: same) (2018)
Here's the biggest hit of 2018, which seems like it made totally outlandish money.  But in reality good enough for thirtieth on this list.

31. Thunderball (adjusted: $685M; unadjusted: $63M) (1965)
In unadjusted grosses Daniel Craig's James Bond movies were the most successful ever.  But here we see Sean Connery officially earning his legendary status.

32. The Dark Knight (adjusted: $682M; unadjusted: $534M) (2008)
A huge part of this one's success was seeing Heath Ledger posthumously fulfill his early potential as a new Hollywood star.

33. The Jungle Book (adjusted: $674M; unadjusted: $141M) (1967)
One of Disney's last big hits from its original golden age.

34. Sleeping Beauty (adjusted: $665M; unadjusted: $51M) (1959)
I don't know about you, but I know this one a lot more because I know it exists than remember having ever actually seen it.  It feels like a belated attempt to recapture the original Disney princess magic.

35. Ghostbusters (adjusted: $651M; unadjusted: $242M) (1984)
The '80s, where combining blockbuster elements and comedy was a thing well before Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle.

36. Shrek 2 (adjusted: $650M; unadjusted: $441M) (2004)
The biggest non-Disney animated success is perhaps predictably a satire of the traditional Disney archetype.

37. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (adjusted: $646M; unadjusted: $102M) (1969)
Here's Newman and Redford in their first big success!

38. Avengers: Infinity War (adjusted: $643M; unadjusted: same) (2018)
Here's the other big 2018 success, in perspective.

39. Love Story (adjusted: $641M; unadjusted $106M) (1970)
I'm sure there are still big fans of this one, but it's a notable exception to everything else on the list so far, which require no reminder for what it actually is. 

40. Spider-Man (adjusted: $636M; unadjusted: $403M) (2002)
There will always be speculation that this was as big a hit as it was because it's set in New York City, after 9/11.

41. Independence Day (adjusted: $634M; unadjusted: $306M) (1996)
Besides Jurassic Park this was the movie that opened the door for blockbusters again.

42. Home Alone (adjusted: $620M; unadjusted: $285M) (1990)
Made child actors capable of being stars again and totally redefined slapstick humor.

43. Star Wars: The Last Jedi (adjusted: $619M; unadjusted: $620M) (2017)
Interestingly it's actually lost a little money; that's inflation working for you!  But you can again see where older Star Wars fans can be resentful; the new movies are getting comparable exposure to the original ones.

44. Pinocchio (adjusted: $617M; unadjusted: $84M) (1940)
Another Disney animated classic.

45. Cleopatra (adjusted: $615M; unadjusted: $57M) (1963)
This was the template Titanic was trying to improve on, a famously expensive movie that was a perceived box office failure because of how much it needed to make to cover expenses.  Hollywood is once again reaching that point, pouring more and money into movies expected to be blockbusters, and risking bigger and bigger disappointments.

46. Beverly Hills Cop (adjusted: $615M; unadjusted: $234M) (1984)
Eddie Murphy later struggled to maintain his status as a big star, but clearly he earned it early in his career.  But he really shouldn't feel too bad: he was one of the last true stars Hollywood ever found, and what happened to him meant...no one really followed after him.

47. Goldfinger (adjusted: $607M; unadjusted: $51M) (1964)
Here's another Sean Connery turn as James Bond, in case you were doubting his massive success.

48. Airport (adjusted: $605M; unadjusted: $100M) (1970)
Inarguably became much better known in parody form: Leslie Nielsen's later Airplane!

49. American Graffiti (adjusted: $601M; unadjusted: $115M) (1973)
Star Wars fans like to assume George Lucas made his name with Star wars.  Well, no.  He made his name with American Graffiti.  Proof.

50. The Robe (adjusted: $599M; unadjusted: $36M) (1953)
The most successful movie featuring Jesus ever made; technically a follow-up, featuring what happens after the crucifixion.

B = billion, M = million

Source: Box Office Mojo

Box Office 2017

US box office totals (via Box Office Mojo) from 2017, as of 4/7/18.  M = millions, T = thousands

1. Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi ($620M)
This latest entry in the Star Wars saga has proven incredibly divisive, which is just about what you'd expect.  Anything less and they probably weren't even trying.  The fact that it made the most money in its particular year of release is also everything you need to know.

2. Beauty and the Beast ($504M)
I'm legitimately flabbergasted by this.  How did this even happen?  It's not so much endless sequels that're the problem, but that Disney can literally remake its own movies and they're big hits.  Will anyone actually think of this as nostalgically as its animated predecessor?

3. Wonder Woman ($412M)
DC scored its lone legitimate popular hit in the Man of Steel sequence to date with this, ironically paving the way for an even bigger hit for Marvel's Avengers flick with Black Panther in 2018.  One wonders what the result would've been if the movies had flip-flopped releases.

4. Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle ($403M)
A massive surprise success at the end of the year.  This is probably one update that will be remembered better than its predecessor.

5. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 ($389M)
Arguably, this and the first one will prove more important to the legacy of the Avengers films than films actually starring Avengers.

6. Spider-Man: Homecoming ($334M)
Not a fan.  I suspect a second entry will perform significantly less well.

7. It ($327M)
Another surprise hit from the year, and Stephen King's first blockbuster adaptation in a few years.

8. Thor: Ragnarok ($315M)
I suspect this'll cool down to a more cult-level hit in the years to come.

9. Despicable Me 3 ($264M)
Kind of bloomed into a Shrek level franchise.

10. Justice League ($229M)
For a movie that was considered a disaster, it still cracked the top ten, which is admirable.  In years past this would've qualified it as an unqualified favorite movie memory.  We've been living in distorted times, folks.

11. Logan ($226M) Will probably be remembered as the best X-Men flick in the sequence...12. The Fate of the Furious ($226M) This franchise cycles back down to earth, ironically after having definitely left strict plausibility behind...13. Coco ($209M) There's so little difference between Disney and Pixar animated flicks at this point, they're losing meaning.  Clearly the market has crashed because of it...14. Dunkirk ($188M) This is how far down you have to go to find a movie that would've been in the top ten, easily, ten years ago...15. Get Out ($176M) Massive hype for a horror movie with a sheen of social relevance...18. The Greatest Showman ($172M) Hugh Jackman arguably had his best year ever...19. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales ($172M) Disney hugely screwed up one of its own franchises.  Contrary to popular belief, Disney is not invincible these days...20. Kong: Skull Island ($168M) I honestly have no idea how this was a hit, except that John C. Reilly probably helped make it one, in the trailers, and probably Jumanji a much bigger one later...21. Cars 3 ($152M) The moment Pixar pumped out a third let alone second installment in a franchise that appeals only to young viewers, you know they've lost it...22. War for the Planet of the Apes ($146M) Have no idea how this latest version of the franchise has made any money, especially when the first one was so terrible, and people somehow still haven't realized it...23. Split ($138M) The Shyamalan renaissance concludes with a movie that will hopefully help him actually return to form next time, rather than merely pander to the horror crowd...24. Wonder ($132M) Speaking of pandering.  Wait, is this a whole era of pandering? Seems like it...25. Transformers: The Last Knight ($130M) Should've left well enough alone, or simply waited a few years to release it...26. Girls Trip ($115M) The success of Bridesmaids resulted in everything but movies actually worth remembering...27. Fifty Shades Darker ($114M) How can so many people go see a movie no one will probably admit watching?  Let alone a sequel?  And a third one in 2018...28. Baby Driver ($107M) Edgar Wright scores his biggest hit with material that's arguably contrary to everything that made his career.  Seems legit...29. Pitch Perfect 3 ($104M) Wait, forget everything I said earlier.  This is the heir of the Bridesmaids effect.  And the one that actually made sequels...30. Daddy's Home 2 ($104M) In a lot of other years this would be considered classic material.  But now it's just lost in the shuffle...31. Murder on the Orient Express ($102M) Relatively low gross seems like a big victory for adult material these days...34. Blade Runner 2049 ($92M) I don't know who thought it would be a huge blockbuster.  This counts as a huge victory...35. John Wick: Chapter Two ($92M) Suddenly cult movies are making big money...39. The Post ($81M) Spielberg is the guy who apparently makes the Trump movie, and nobody cares...40. The Mummy ($80M) Tom Cruise is really struggling...41. The Hitman's Bodyguard ($75M) On the other hand, this is a huge victory for Ryan Reynolds...42. Alien: Covenant ($74M) Probably pushed too quickly for another one.  Cult level...46. The Shape of Water ($64M) Voted Best Picture at the Oscars.  Deemed creepy by everyone else...48. Baywatch ($58M) In another year this would've performed, and been received, much differently.  It's no longer the '90s...50. Darkest Hour ($56M) Gary Oldman makes Churchill popular again...52. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri ($54M) Kind of inexplicable that the more people heard about this, the less they seemed to know what to make of it.  That's 2017 in a nutshell...53. Atomic Blonde ($51M) Seems capable of becoming a cult favorite...54. American Made ($51M) Seems capable of being a hindsight critical favorite in Cruise's career...55. The Dark Tower ($50M) If someone had told me that this would fail and It would triumph, I would've slapped them.  I'll slap yu now for saying this was the right outcome...56. Lady Bird ($48M) This is what finally makes people realize Saoirse Ronan exists?  2017, folks...65. The Big Sick ($42M) Given the hype around it, you would've expected it to have made a lot more...66. Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets ($41M) The cult movies makes virtually no money at all.  That about makes sense...69. King Arthur: Legend of the Sword ($39M) I have to assume everyone who talks about it didn't actually see it, and everyone who doesn't did...70. Jigsaw ($38M) Kind of brilliant that they finally outright called one of these that...74. Wind River ($33M) In a different era, this is the kind of adult movie that would've made more...83. I, Tonya ($29M) Only Margot Robbie could've made Tonya Harding that much money...84. Hostiles ($29M) This is another adult drama you would've actually heard of in years past...85. Molly's Game ($28M) Kind of incredible that Jessica Chastain and Aaron Sorkin end up virtually ignored...88. Lucky Logan ($27M) Seems like this should've gotten at least as much interest as Baby Driver...93. Gifted ($24M) If an Avenger makes a good movie and he's out of costume, apparently it doesn't count...100. The Disaster Artist ($21M) Kind of weird that a whole movie was made and outright celebrated whose only reason to exist is to mock another movie that no one's actually heard of...101. Phantom Thread ($21M) Daniel Day-Lewis apparently retires having conceded that his career is mostly trading on the stereotype of awards season fodder...108. Call Me by Your Name ($18M) Apparently even when he's in a movie that critics love Armie Hammer is still basically ignored...109. mother! ($17M) Became the most infamous movie hardly anyone saw...117. It Comes At Night ($13M) Seems like it would've been a big hit in another time...121. Battle of the Sexes ($12M) Kind of hard to figure out why this flew under the radar...123. Roman J. Israel, Esq. ($11M) Denzel Washington makes a movie and no one even knows...125. The Beguiled ($10M) Part of the problem women have as directors is that they eventually get ignored even when they're doing exceptional work...130. The Lost City of Z ($8M) This is another movie that was swallowed whole by the blockbuster era...145. The Florida Project ($5M) Good reputation.  Hardly anyone saw it...159. Table 19 ($3M) Comedies have been hit hardest in the current era...171. Wolf Warrior 2 ($2M) Kind of unofficially a companion to Captain America: The Winter Soldier...182. T2: Trainspotting ($2M) One of the more surprising flops of the year...186. The Killing of a Sacred Der ($2M) How do you suppress bold new cinematic talent?  By pretending it isn't happening...181. Good Time ($2M) In which Robert Pattinson is loved for something other than playing a sparkly vampire...208. A Ghost Story ($1M) This is some more of that bold new cinematic talent being ignored...209. Professor Marston & the Wonder Women ($1M) Kind of surprising that it was completely ignored...The Only Living Boy in New York ($624T) Marc Webb discovers that the blockbuster era has little room for him.  Again...357. The Bad Batch ($180T) Would you believe Jim Carrey appears in this?  He does...

Well, damn, I think I just got all the hate for the Star Wars prequels

Before you read much further, you ought to know: I still love the Star Wars prequels.  I still love The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith.  But I think I finally get why they're so easy to hate.

And no, it's not what you think.

So let me explain.  I also love the Pirates of the Caribbean films.  I love Curse of the Black Pearl, Dead Man's Chest, At World's End.  But I don't love On Stranger Tides.  And so there's where we reach my point.  On Stranger Tides is the Star Wars prequels of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.  As in, I don't really understand why its exists.  And the thing is, there's soon going to be another one, Dead Men Tell No Tales.  And I suppose the book's still open on that one.  But still.  The original three tell such a complete story.  The next two don't seem...relevant.  That's what I mean. 

Dead Man's Chest is actually hugely relevant to this analogy.  It's the second of the Pirates movies, and like The Empire Strikes Back (the second of the original Star Wars trilogy), it expands on everything that made the first one good, while doing it so well and in such a way that it makes both easier to love and gives the first further justification by making the experience deeper than it previously seemed to have any right to be. 

And like Return of the Jedi (for some fans, anyway; this is the third film in the original Star Wars trilogy, of course), At World's End finishes out the story, but doesn't quite measure up to its predecessor(s). 

On Stranger Tides focuses almost exclusively on Jack Sparrow, the breakout character of the original Pirates trilogy, just as the Star Wars prequels focuses almost exclusively on Darth Vader (specifically, his origin story).  To my mind, I don't see the point, if Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann aren't there somewhere, too.  Star Wars fans rightly kind of began to view the original trilogy to focus at least as much on Han Solo as any other element, Harrison Ford going on to be one of the biggest stars in Hollywood and all.

So the Star Wars prequels, more or less, whatever their creative merit, probably seemed downright incomprehensible to fans of the original trilogy.  That's what I'm saying.  Incomprehensible, inexplicable, everything they...really didn't want to see.  That's it, really, they rejected these things because they seemed pointless, offensiveness in any number of ways because they didn't conform to what fans loved so much about the originals.

That's On Stranger Tides for me.  Dead Man's Chest, I loved it so much when I first saw it, became one of my all-time favorite movies, period, in and out of the Pirates movies.  I care about the Pirates movies today because of it.  But I'll never have that relationship with On Stranger Tides. 

I really, really don't get that one.  I just don't see the point.  Clearly much of it was developed to ape as much of the originals as possible, but because it lacked the specific cast that made them so memorable, the specific story, and replaced them with plug-ins that meant...less, I just can't understand the point of taking it seriously.

So that's what I assume Star Wars fans think about the prequels.  Feel free to disagree, but that's my theory. 

879. Box Office 2016

Here's a rundown of relevant movie box office totals, plus ones I personally cared about:

1. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story ($532 M)
I personally loathed this like the plague, but it gave a lot of other fans what they thought had been missing from Star Wars since about The Empire Strikes Back.

2. Finding Dory ($486 M)
This belated sequel to Finding Nemo was much like Rogue One: a quasi-reboot for a new generation.

3. Captain America: Civil War ($408 M)
The in-all-but-name third Avengers movie was by far the most popular nominal Captain America lead installment.  It does do some nifty stuff with Bucky, admittedly.

4. The Secret Life of Pets ($368 M)
Proof positive that any dumb kids flick can make tons of money these days.

5. The Jungle Book ($364 M)
One of Disney's live action remakes, another sign of the ridiculously conservative mood moviegoers have been in lately.

6. Deadpool ($363 M)
Although of course there are exceptions.  Unless you notice that all those Avengers movies are only a shade or two away from the same kind of superhero irreverence.

7. Zootopia ($341 M)
I have to admit this one looked pretty good in the trailers, but I can't for the life of me, without having seen it, figure out what about it specifically would make it a big hit, except it's a kids movie in an era where kids movies are easy money.

8. Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice ($330 M)
As polarized a reaction as you can get, but obviously it still made money.  Enough money, it seems, where there's an equal amount of hate as love for its creative choices.

9. Suicide Squad ($325 M)
See the above.

10. Sing ($270 M)
See?  Kids movies will make money these days with any concept at all. 

11. Moana ($248 M) This one's the most traditional kids movie so far, so of course it earned less.
12. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them ($234 M) The first of the Harry Potter prequels.
13. Doctor Strange ($232 M) Somehow this made less than Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad, but still gets touted as a creative success.  I admit that this baffles me.
14. Hidden Figures ($168 M) The highest grossing drama of the year. 
15. Jason Bourne ($162 M) Matt Damon returns to the franchise after skipping out the last one.
16. Star Trek Beyond ($158 M) The latest reboot film in this franchise pleased fans but underperformed, relatively speaking.  Still made more than any pre-reboot film.
17. X-Men: Apocalypse ($155 M) The end of an era (until Logan).
19. La La Land ($150 M) Here's the second highest grossing drama.  Er, musical.
20. Kung Fu Panda 3 ($143 M) They're on the third in this franchise.  But who even knows there's a franchise here???
21. Ghostbusters ($128 M) The all-female cast kind of backfired.  But that's still a respectable haul.
22. Central Intelligence ($127 M) Kevin Hart helps gives Dwayne Johnson a leading man hit.
24. Sully ($125 M) Tom Hanks hasn't been terribly reliable at the box office for a few years now, so it's always good to see him land another hit.
25. Bad Moms ($113 M) See how female cast comedies can be hits?
26. The Angry Birds Movie ($107 M) I have no idea why there was a movie made several years after it was at all relevant.  How could it take so long to develop a movie about a mobile phone game?
27. Independence Day: Resurgence ($103 M) Then again, waiting twenty years for a sequel turned out to be even more dumb.  Plus, omitting the one thing everyone really loved about the first one (some dude named Will Smith).
28. The Conjuring 2 ($102 M) Kind of the epitome of the ultimately bland if ridiculously lucrative horror era we currently inhabit.
29. Arrival ($100 M) My pick for best movie of the year.
30. Passengers ($100 M) Turns out all the marketing of how cute the stars are together can't really overcome bad word of mouth about how their characters end up in a relationship.
31. Sausage Party ($97 M) We're all officially going to hell.
32. The Magnificent Seven ($93 M) Less than magnificent.
33. Ride Along 2 ($91 M) Slightly less than Eddie Murphy strong, Kevin.
36. The Accountant ($86 M) Ben Affleck (aside from assuming the cowl of Batman) finally notices the success his pal Matt has been having as Jason Bourne.
38. The Purge: Election Year ($79 M) I actually think this is a cool horror concept, and if I were to start watching this series, I'd probably start with this one.
41. The Girl on the Train ($75 M) Like the book before it, really tried to be the next Gone Girl, but came up a little short.
42. Boo! A Madea Halloween ($73 M) Tyler Perry discovers there's still gold in cross-dressing.
44. 10 Cloverfield Lane ($72 M) This pop up movie release proved there's gold in surprises.
46. Hacksaw Ridge ($67 M) Mel Gibson's resurrection.  (Heh.)
47. The Divergent Series: Allegiant ($66 M) Apparently this particular young adult book series really wasn't that popular.
48. Now You See Me 2 ($65 M) Never saw the original, but I want to see this one just to see Daniel Radcliffe mock himself.
49. Ice Age: Collision Course ($64 M) Time to stop making these, I think.
50. The Boss ($63 M) Melissa McCarthy comes back down to earth.
51. London Has Fallen ($62 M) This probably should not have become a series.
55. My Big fat Greek Wedding 2 ($59 M) Another belated sequel.
56. Jack Reacher: Never Go Back ($58 M) Another sequel to a movie I haven't seen that I want to, in part because the trailer was awesome and also because it's the closest we'll get to a Maria Hill movie.
57. Fences ($57 M) I don't know, I'm not sure I was feeling Denzel Washington in 2016.  This was a passion project, one I'm not sure I'll see anytime soon.
61. The Shallows ($55 M) A younger me probably would've loved to catch Blake Lively's bikini adventures.
65. 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi ($52 M) I wonder how many Hollywood careers were ruined by making this one.
66. Lion ($51 M) A would-be prestige movie that will probably be a family favorite in some households.
67. The Huntsman: Winter's War ($48 M) Like a who's who of the best actresses working today.
69. Manchester by the Sea ($47 M) Glad to see Casey Affleck recognized.
70. Warcraft ($47 M) Glad to see Duncan Jones get a shot at blockbuster filmmaking.  Sorry that it wasn't a hit.
73. War Dogs ($43 M) Wow, Miles Teller is struggling to find a breakout hit, isn't he?
78. Risen ($36 M) Innovative look at the resurrection.
79. The Nice Guys ($36 M) Destined to be a cult hit.
84. Inferno ($34 M) The third Robert Langdon movie was a huge box office dud.
86. Patriots Day ($31 M) Seems this would've been a bigger hit in a different era.
87. Gods of Egypt ($31 M) Gerard Butler has rediscovered that obscurity that he knew so well before finding unexpected success with another historic blockbuster.
88. Collateral Beauty ($31 M) I'm gonna see this Will Smith flick at some point.  Seems like another Seven Pounds.
89. Hail, Caesar! ($30 M) I'm always playing catch-up with the Coens.
91. Zoolander 2 ($28 M) The first was a cult hit.  The second came way too late to recreate Austin Powers.
92. Moonlight ($27 M) Won Best Picture at the Oscars.
95. Hell or High Water ($27 M) Chris Pine receives serious critic respect.
97. Ben-Hur ($26 M) Only in 2016 could one of the most popular stories in American history land with a dud.
102. Snowden ($21 M) The latest from Oliver Stone.
104. Free State of Jones ($20 M) A personal favorite.
116. The Birth of a Nation ($15 M) Seemingly tailor-made for critical success until its director found his reputation ruined.
120. Criminal ($14 M) I found the casting decisions interesting in this one.
124. Jackie ($13 M) As in Jackie O.  As in Natalie Portman.
131. Café Society ($11 M) The latest from Woody Allen.
132. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ($10 M) Could still become a cult hit (again).
143. The Lobster ($8 M) Critics rediscover Colin Farrell.
145. Loving ($7 M) Jeff Nichols makes a desperate bid for awards love.
146. Silence ($7 M) Martin Scorsese's latest.
162. A Hologram for the King ($4 M) This is how tough it's been for Tom Hanks.
163. Swiss Army Man ($4 M) Daniel Radcliffe can literally do anything he wants.
171. A Monster Calls ($3 M) Could probably become a cult hit.
172. Midnight Special ($3 M) Same here.
173. Rules Don't Apply ($3 M) But studios still expect a hit, Mr. Beatty.
211. Billy Flynn's Long Halftime Walk ($1 M) Kind of shocking Ang Lee's awards bid fell so flat.
219. Jane Got a Gun ($1 M) A Star Wars prequels reunion.
274. Knight of Cups ($566 T) Terrence Malick's latest.
465. The Take ($50 T) Idris Elba stars.
651. Frank and Lola ($9 T) Michael Shannon stars.

All numbers provided by Box Office Mojo as of 4/16/17. M = Millions, T = Thousands.  All numbers reflective of US box office results.

872. Excalibur, and its surprisingly enduring legacy

I finally got around to rewatching 1981's Excalibur, what was for at least one generation the definitive retelling of the Arthurian legend.

Now, this is one of those things I have a complicated history with, which is to say there have been times I've actively dismissed it as terrible filmmaking.  When it showed up on a marquee in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice earlier this year, as the movie (previously, The Mark of Zorro) the Waynes saw on that fateful day in the updated timeline, when Batman became an orphan, I started thinking I should give it another shot.

Clearly, I'd argue, Excalibur was made because of the Star Wars effect.  Everyone was scrambling to contextualize this new phenomenon.  Dune became a movie (it can be argued that Star Wars owes a debt to Frank Herbert's saga) for the first time.  Star Trek reached the big screen.  And King Arthur rode back into popular culture.  Now, this is a guy who helped define, over the centuries, what pop culture is all about.  Along with Robin Hood, it's hard to find any fictional character who's had more enduring appeal in the West.  Where Robin Hood embodies the triumph of will over state, King Arthur is the myth to end all myths about how states become great.  It's the updated version of the founding of Rome, where the figure at last supplants the foundation.  You might argue about how Greek myths came about, but there's no longer any clear lineage about where all those gods came from.  You could also argue, Jesus Christ, and indeed, Arthurian lore is steeped in Christian symbolism.

Putting that aside, I have to admit, even now I find Excalibur to be unwieldy.  It's hugely overwrought, to be sure, even as it contains the secret origins of Patrick Stewart, Helen Mirren, Liam Neeson, Gabriel Byrne, and Ciaran Hinds (he's the only one I couldn't spot this time around), all of whom later became hugely successful actors, and so you spend half the film just seeing how much of their later selves is on display, and by that have a worthy distraction when other things aren't working for you.  If you're not particularly hip to the legend, the proceedings are probably impenetrable.

Sound familiar?  The same can be said for Batman v Superman, which obviously chose to give a nod to Excalibur because it depicts the founding of the Knights of the Round Table, where Dawn of Justice is all about laying the foundations for the later Justice League.  That, and Batman is Lancelot to Superman's King Arthur.  Tellingly, Excalibur is all about King Arthur's twisted history and fate, all tied up in a single thread, just as Dawn of Justice focuses on how Superman's alien origins define how people view him, either as threat or savior, and the monster that kills him being a relic of those origins.  Where Excalibur crams everything into one movie, Batman v Superman's greatest sin is expecting people to not only have already seen Man of Steel, but invest in the future Justice League movies, too.

But enough about superheroes.  Excalibur's legacy goes further than that.  It ranked 18th in box office earnings the year it was released, grossing $34 million.  Another Grail seeker, Indiana Jones (admittedly looking for something different this particular movie), was the year's top hit, Raiders of the Lost Ark.  The follow-up to another Star Wars response, Superman II, was a big hit that year.  This was still a time when Hollywood was trying to definitively crack the Star Wars code, though.  Non-genre hits like On Golden Pond, Arthur, Stripes, The Cannonball Run, Chariots of Fire, and The Four Seasons (this starred Alan Alda and Carol Burnett; it's the only film from the 1981 top ten that's been lost to history) were other big hits.  There was also the James Bond flick For Your Eyes Only and Terry Gilliam's breakout hit Time Bandits.  Ahead of Excalibur, too, was Clash of the Titans, and a Tarzan movie. 

No, Excalibur picked up steam in later years.  It was a cult hit.  I discovered it in college, likely a place for a movie like Excalibur because it has a couple of nude scenes, and where else but college are you going to be watching stuff like that for the first time (assuming that like me, you were previously pretty innocent about such movies)?  This was a movie that reeked of mythic proportions, something ideal to watch in those formative years of your life, if you were already well-versed in stuff like Star Wars. 

Finally, Peter Jackson made his Lord of the Rings movies, which were responsible for blowing open the doors for movie sagas that could finally compete with Star Wars.  And clearly, Tolkien had a lot of King Arthur on the brain, and so did Jackson.  The first one, Fellowship of the Ring, has always been, for me, the most successful creatively of them, because it follows such a clear narrative line, straight to the Lancelot of Boromir dying in redemption in front of Aragorn's King Arthur (complete with his own legendary sword needing to be reforged). 

Another movie I think has a strong Excalibur connection is Star Trek Nemesis, which Star Trek fans have always confused with a rip-off of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.  And yet, the central conflict of Picard's feud with his clone Shinzon has less Khan to it than King Arthur's ultimate rival in Mordred, who happens to be both his sister's son, and his.  Strange liaisons indeed.  It's the kind of logic that sent Star Trek fans livid, because for them, this was a franchise that was about sending social messages, not eating its own tail, which is kind of funny, because no one cared for its predecessor, Star Trek: Insurrection, even though it was a clear parallel to the continuing plight of Native Americans (it bothers me a great deal that out of all the social causes out there today, no one cares about the most screwed-over population in the whole country).

That's what Excalibur got wrong, I think, trying to immerse its logic too deeply within itself, and I guess, what Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice did, too.  You can't have Picard engaged in a direct feud.  That's why Star Trek: First Contact worked so well, and was such a big success, because it mixed up the revenge story with one of hope for the future, which is what Star Trek is all about.  What is King Arthur about?  He's the story of hope, too, that times won't always be so bad, because there weren't always terrible leaders and there will be good leaders again.  That's the sword analogy right there.  What do Batman and Superman say in their movie?  That we can put aside our differences, if we try.  King Arthur's story is full of intrigue, and conflicting motivations, and things forbidden, and the ability to overcome our worst impulses, even if we've already made the fatal mistake.

To find that message in Excalibur, you have to be able to navigate a lot of barriers.  The dialogue is spoken almost exclusively as if the recording equipment was the least reliable to be found, and actors were given the simple command, "Just try and make a forceful delivery."  It's like bad Shakespeare, but it's so overblown, it's impossible to forget, no matter how hard you try.  Mordred's ridiculous gold armor and his even worse helmet, even harder.  This is what it looks like when you try too hard.  The more time Peter Jackson spent in Middle-Earth, the more he leaned in this direction, too.  That's what people have been saying about Batman v Superman, that it's impenetrable, merely an excuse to try and grab some cheap money from gullible movie-goers.  Me, I never saw it that way, but then, I guess I was just in the right place at the right time, to get it. 

But that's what happens when you're chasing something big, something like Star Wars.  Not only did Hollywood never see it coming, but everyone else sought to understand what it was all about, too.  That's why someone made the connection to King Arthur.  And why, once everyone had become accustomed to lavish productions, they became easier to accept as big hits, a whole series of blockbuster sagas.  Only now, we're circling back again.  We never did stop to figure it out, and eventually even Star Wars started looking overblown, with the prequels.  What can you do?

Except, keep giving the results another chance.  I mean, plenty of people saw potential in Excalibur.  It just took some time.  In the end, the important thing is, these are stories vital to the culture.  They're being told because someone thought it was important.  Sometimes, it may be enough to just try and figure out why, because inevitably, someone will try telling it again.  That's what it's all about.

870. The Blockbuster Numbing Effect

There've been plenty of people who wondered what was to happen to the superhero movie, once the bubble finally bursts.  More often than not, the answer is that it'll go the way of the Western, that it'll gradually lose all relevance in the popular culture.

I don't know about that.  I think of superhero movies in terms of the sci-fi genre.  Once that box exploded, with Star Wars, it became very hard close up again, in a way that Westerns haven't really experienced since the end of their heyday, when they held a virtual monopoly on the public's imagination.  Half the reason superhero movies exploded in the new millennium was because Hollywood finally figured out how to duplicate Star Wars' blockbuster model.  Suddenly, there were hot new franchises all over the place, of viable endurance and massive popularity.

The problem, if anything, is to keep superheroes from becoming like horror movies.  Horror movies have long had their sway with audiences.  In the '80s they took on new life with a slew of franchises.  The problem is, horror films became increasingly hard to translate to wide audiences, unless a true breakout occurred, which does continue to happen.  The thing is, no one thinks of horror movies as dominating the box office, the way they did in the '70s, before Star Wars.  Tastes change.  Something will replace superhero movies as the hot new thing, but superhero movies won't go away, like Westerns have for the most part.

The problem will be in finding the balance that prevents them from appearing too insular.  In this age where the massive Avengers franchise exists, this can seem like a ridiculous dilemma, because eight years and over a dozen films later, no one's arguing that it's tough to keep track of what happens in these movies, because they're designed to operate independently, with little need to know what happens in any one film.  You can watch one of them and simply expect a good time. 

That's it, really, the expectation that you don't need to invest too much into the experience.  Anytime a blockbuster goes beyond that expectation, barriers begin to form, and opinions sharply decline in their generosity toward the film.

It's not that difficult to see how this tracks.  Everyone loves Star Wars, because the original movies were filled with romantic breeziness.  The second one, The Empire Strikes Back, deepened the story just enough so that fans thought it was a worthy follow-up to the original.  By the time the prequels were made, however, you suddenly needed to know so much more, such as why it was at all important to care about the little boy Anakin Skywalker.  It wasn't simply a matter of expectations, but having to invest in the material something beyond sheer enjoyment.  In fact, under circumstances like that, sheer enjoyment becomes the last thing possible.

Where superhero movies started looking for something other than entertainment was the misleading success of The Dark Knight, which proved to be a spectacle for reasons other than Batman's adventures, but the spectacle of the unexpected performance from the late Heath Ledger, whose death alone brought attention to the movie.  People loved Spider-Man as a lovable sadsack, and because watching him swing through New York City was a life-affirming exercise post-9/11.  They didn't particularly want the Goth dorkiness of Spider-Man 3 or Marc Webb's deeper analysis in the Amazing Spider-Man films.  Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice has proven a powderkeg precisely because it tried to be operatic instead of just a big dumb fight between its title heroes.

These ambitious superhero movies have their place, but they'll never be as popular as the lighthearted, irreverent material that continues to dominate the box office.  You try for anything else, and people will just crap all over it, because this is not the kind of stuff they want to think about.  They go to the movies to escape.  That's how hits are born, the ones that are still fondly recalled years later.

Hollywood has developed a new problem, in that there are so many movies with blockbuster expectations, they can't possibly all end up blockbusters, and suddenly there are more and more blockbuster box office busts.  This can't at all be surprising.  The more demand you make of your audience, the more careful you'll have to be to find it, because otherwise, it simply won't be there.  It's the blockbuster numbing effect.  What otherwise might have become a generation's defining movie memory will have been lost in the shuffle, simply because you didn't expect it would be so difficult to get lost in the story.  Sometimes, it really is.  The hit movies are the ones that make it look easy. 

866. Mock Squid Soup - June 2016: What Dreams May Come

Every month various bloggers come together to celebrate movies with the Mock Squid Soup society.  This month I'll be talking a little about 1998's What Dreams May Come.

Released a few months prior to one of Robin Williams' last big hits, Patch Adams, this was a big artistic statement about death that kind of landed with a thud, and has never quite recovered.  I kind of figured this was my kind of movie from the start, but for whatever reason I've only just sat through the whole thing.  Call it confirmation bias if you like, but yeah, I loved it.

What Dreams May Come is the story of a man who dies and discovers the afterlife is an unexpected window into not only the way he lived, but his family as well.  He appears in a full-scale version of a painting his wife made years ago (honestly, this is one of the great pieces of artistry in film, without any danger of overdoing it).  He eventually meets his son and daughter, who appear into different, and surprising, guises.  They both died in a car crash years earlier, and the grief sent their parents in different directions as they struggled to cope.  After Williams dies, his wife commits suicide, which ends up informing the rest of the movie.

I don't know, I think this movie was simply released at the wrong time.  Culturally, we'd stopped accepting the Christian view as the dominant outlook on life, and so a movie that accepted a generally Christian view of the afterlife couldn't have been received comfortably.  The same thing happened because it was a Robin Williams movie, because critics had kind of decided they were over him.  His supporting turn in Good Will Hunting was basically the last time they liked him (other than a few later roles, in One Hour Photo and Insomnia, where he played psychopaths, which was about as far against type as he could get).  Critics also didn't particularly care for Cuba Gooding, Jr., whose own Oscar win (Jerry Maguire) marked the only time they liked him (despite a lot of good work following his breakthrough, including the equally critically hapless but no less brilliant Instinct).

Chances are you won't be thinking of whether you care about a Christian view of the afterlife, or whether you always liked Robin Williams or Cuba Gooding, Jr.  If you've seen What Dreams May Come for yourself, what did you even think about it?  Was it a movie you found easy to dismiss because it seemed so easy to dismiss?

For me, I always liked how bold it was, unafraid to take a look at the moodier side of Williams, which in dramas usually meant he had a beard and acted solemn (this was a good mode for him; see Awakenings, for instance).  Like Patch Adams, though, Williams was able to bring out his playful side in What Dreams May Come.  It may not have been a mistake these two are often seen paired together in home video release.  These are human portraits.  Where Patch Adams played up the comedy, What Dreams May Come plays up the tragedy.

(Fitting, for a movie that in its title alludes to Shakespeare.)

To watch it was to see how intricate the story was, too.  The reveals of who two of Williams' guides are, and why they chose these guises, are just two of the wonderful surprises in the story, which never really flirts with the obvious risk of melodrama for this kind of movie.  It's all pretty frank, and by the time we meet Max von Sydow, even wonderfully fantastical, in a way we'd have to wait for the later Harry Potter movies to see again.

Me, because of the literary tradition with Dante's Divine Comedy, I like to believe that a culture's current impression of what the afterlife looks like is a window into its soul.  I don't know what the immediate reception of What Dreams May Come says about that, but the film itself bridges more than breaks the gaps that have formed between different circles of our society, and I think you only need to see it to believe that.

This is not a story about faith.  It's the story of humanity, broken and then mended, and perhaps found.  I think it's pretty profound, and worth considering as one of the great artistic statements of the last hundred years.

865. X-Men: Apocalypse, otherwise known as the best X-Men movie yet

The thing about setting benchmarks is that it can be a terrible burden.  Earlier this year I determined that Captain America: Civil War was the best Avengers movie yet.  It sent a new benchmark for that franchise.  And yet, it's not as good a movie as Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (which is not the best Superman or Batman movie, an honor that still resides with The Dark Knight) or, as I have now determined, X-Men: Apocalypse.

Apocalypse is the sixth movie in the X-Men franchise, not counting three spin-offs (two for Wolverine and one Deadpool), and it completes the second trilogy while rounding out as a statement for the whole series to date.  It does so brilliantly, by learning all there was to learn from the previous entries, something Civil War did before it, too, but because there was more substance to build on, the achievement is greater.

For me, it's always about substance.  Like Batman v Superman's nod to Excalibur, a genre film that broke new ground and helped set the tone for what was to come, Apocalypse makes a big deal about how a few of the characters go see Return of the Jedi, which sets off a similar conversation.  Most viewers will take away that Bryan Singer is still annoyed at what Brett Ratner did with X-Men: The Last Stand, the finale of the first trilogy, the previous two having been directed by Singer before he attempted to move on with 2006's Superman Returns (that was the whole period when the early millennial fascination with superheroes was either going to die or evolve, and you can see for yourself what happened).  And maybe Singer is, but the greater point is also how crucial Apocalypse is to the second trilogy, and how its story is reflected in Return of the Jedi.

If there's a weakness to the film, I would call it blockbuster hangover, which is something that began with Independence Day, the need to have as much destruction as possible in the story, most of which is usually unnecessary.  Putting that aside, we can look at the story itself.  Apocalypse assumes the role of the Emperor.  That's all he basically is, an evil presence forcing moral decisions on the main characters.  The key players, as always, are Professor X and Magneto.  This has been the case since the start, because of the initial casting for these roles with noted British actors Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, whose performances helped drive interest in the series even as their roles tended to be lost in the shuffle of other character conflicts.

Ironically, it was in Ratner's Last Stand where they truly began to drive the plot, with the character of Jean Grey caught between them.  Apocalypse, if anything, might be seen as Singer's version of Last Stand, but with all the history of the film series behind it.  With First Class and Days of the Future Past having put such a heavy emphasis directly on Professor X and Magneto, Apocalypse had to deliver, make a thesis of the conflict between them, and decide, once and for all, if they were truly worth rooting for.

This is why I say the X-Men have been doing what Batman, Superman, and the Avengers only just got around to, all along.  Apocalypse helps prove that, in elegant fashion.

So many opinions that you have to wade through have already made predetermined judgments about certain aspects (critics hate long genre series; they were complaining about Harry Potter movies even as fans were still rabidly buying the new books, as if they would have no way of keeping up with the mythology).  A lot of the people who will tell you Apocalypse is a failure have joined the camp that says only Disney/Marvel can do it right, and that you have to have a fairly light tone to make a superhero movie. 

Apocalypse is the bold statement this franchise has been building toward from the start.  When Singer first made an X-Men film, he built his vision around the gay community, where he saw the most obvious mutant analogy.  Yet in Apocalypse, you can see where he has expanded that vision.  Black viewers can see these X-Men as analogous to their struggles, too, which have been plastered all over the news for the past few years, all over again.  The struggle never ends.  And that's the point of these X-Men movies.  The way to respond, in this franchise, comes down to whether you will reject the greater community (Magneto) or attempt to join it (Professor X).  Tellingly, Mystique is the one straddling the line and drawing the sides closer, once again.  It may also be relevant to note that, along with Rogue, it's Mystique that was left depowered in Ratner's Last Stand.

The confidence Singer brings to these movies today is totally different from the tentative, if bombastic (driven by the early love affair everyone had for Hugh Jackman's Wolverine), steps he took in his first two movies.  It's best understood in the Quicksilver scenes, which have stolen the show in two movies now.  It's in how he allows Magneto to be human, not in a forced way, as has been the direction in other movies, but as someone we don't need to be reminded was born in the Holocaust (but this time, it doesn't seem exploitative to remind us, again).  It's in how he allows Quicksilver to avoid telling Magneto that he's his son.  That's the Usual Suspects version of Singer I've been looking for all along, the one capable of withholding information, for the good of the story, the characters, and the audience.  Because it makes everything better.

This is how it's done, folks.  For all those still upset about the second Star Wars trilogy, you now have a genre franchise with two trilogies, where you can hopefully see how the last in them rounded out the story, in hugely appropriate fashion.

Mock Squid Soup May 2016 - Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Cherdo previously covered for the Mock Squid Soup gang, hosted by Mock and Squid.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008) was the movie that kept on giving.  It gave us Jason Segel as a movie star, introduced the world (yay!) to Russell Brand, featured a spin-off for Brand's memorable Aldous Snow in Get Him to the Greek (2010), and led to Segel successfully rebooting The Muppets (2011).

That's a lot to accomplish, plus an instrumental version of Israel "Iz" Kamakawiwo'ole's iconic "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"/"What a Wonderful World" (which is appropriate, since the movie is set in Hawaii and, y'know, Iz was Hawaiian).

Instead of going on and on (as I usually do), let me just focus on my favorite scene from the movie: the puppet show.

 



I don't have a clip from the movie itself (the above comes from Craig Ferguson's since-ended late night talk show), but the song, "Dracula's Lament," expresses for itself that unexpected moment when you realize the puppet show that is so crucial to Segel's character is actually pretty awesome.  It's the whole movie in a nutshell.  You can watch the rest of the movie and kind of dismiss it as just another post-millennial comedy, but that song is what launched Segel's Muppets (which gave us the Oscar-nominated "Man or Muppet").

863. Captain America: Civil War, or, The Best Avengers Movie Yet

So here's what my Avengers cycle best-of looks like now:

1. Captain America: Civil War (2016)
2. Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
3. Iron Man 2 (2010)
4. Avengers (2012)
5. Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

As you can see, two of three Captain America movies make the top five.  When it was released, 2011's Captain America: The First Avenger shot close to the top of the list (you can see 2010's Iron Man 2 in third) thanks to Chris Evans' endearing performance as Steve Rogers and the general tone of embracing the history of comic book superheroes in light-hearted but warm fashion (particularly Cap's early days in uniform as a glorified spokesman).  So it wasn't surprising that its sequels interested me even more, as they delved more deeply into superhero psyche and the further pitfalls of wearing even the spiffier uniform.

What this amounts to is depth in presentation, something that's usually lacking in these Avengers movies.  I mean, that's why I liked Iron Man 2 so much, because it was the rare introverted Tony Stark that looked for things that were well beyond the surface.  (Iron Man 3 was a shell, pardon the pun, of this accomplishment.)

But other than that, Civil War also works on the visceral level of the Avengers films at their best, the interplay that's so key to entries like Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy.  These are screwball flicks at heart, perhaps more so than superhero movies.  They will never match the vision of, say, The Dark Knight or even Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (something that always sticks in the craw of fans and critics, who routinely find holes that aren't there in DC's movies, and gobble up the relative mindlessness of Marvel's).  Even Civil War, like The Winter Soldier before it, full of moral bravado, plays sleight of hand in its plotting instead of looking for real answers.  You cannot compare the conflicts in Civil War and Batman v Superman, no matter how similar they are.  The much-mocked humanity of Batman v Superman is met with hollow characterization in Civil War.

And yet, I still say Captain America: Civil War is good.  It's a different kind of good, a different level of achievement.  It's not wrong to say it's a lesser one.  It's not wrong to say that a movie with loftier ambitions and greater technical achievement is better than it.  It is wrong to say that you have to aim lower to be a successful superhero movie. 

Calling Civil War my favorite Avengers movie is acknowledgement that it did succeed in what it set out to accomplishment.  That's all you can ask of any movie.  I rate them lower when they haven't, and don't even realize it.  I do that with books, too.  I see no difference except in formatting, between movies and books.  They're different art forms.  But to be a good movie means the same thing as being a good book.  Standards don't change.  I can like, very much, a book of little ambition, or one that does not dazzle me in its language, but I'll always like the one that has both, better.  It's the same with movies, even ones with superheroes.

There's a lot that's just sloppy in Civil War, clumsy in how plot threads come together.  When they meet up, the right moments do happen, and the ending is good, and that goofy clash of champions at the airport is a true highlight, something that couldn't, and probably shouldn't, happen in a DC movie.  But that's what defines these Avengers movies.  Obviously, they make entertainment that's easy to enjoy.

So sue me if I still like DC better, even when I've found perhaps the perfect Avengers movie.

Box Office 2015

U.S. box office results for notable movies from 2015...(mil = million)

1. Star Wars - Episode VII: The Force Awakens ($936 mil)
After the huge success of Jurassic World, there was some doubt that the next Star Wars wouldn't top the yearly box office (which has been done before; Attack of the Clones landed in third behind Spider-Man and Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers in 2002).  But then it just completely exploded.  Fans are still debating if JJ Abrams was too faithful to the original trilogy...

2. Jurassic World ($652 mil)
The last entry in this series (Jurassic Park III) was released back in 2001.  So fans were ready for the unofficial reboot, and more from the suddenly heroic Chris Pratt.

3. Avengers: Age of Ultron ($459 mil)
Marvel's Avengers franchise just keeps clicking along at the box office.  Captain America: Civil War features ramifications from this as well as its own previous entry, Winter Soldier.

4. Inside Out ($356 mil)
The Pixar machine rolls along with this entry about the inner workings of a little girl's mind, personified by wacky characters.

5. Furious 7 ($353 mil)
The late Paul Walker makes his final appearance in the series with this entry.

6. Minions ($336 mil)
A spin-off of the Despicable Me franchise gives the wacky little yellow dudes their own movie at last.

7. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 2 ($281 mil)
Interest in this saga cooled over the years, leading to a somewhat underwhelming performance for the finale.

8. The Martian ($228 mil)
Matt Damon gave a career performance in this latest astronaut disaster movie.

9. Cinderella ($201 mil)
Disney has been producing live action versions of its animated hits since 1996's 101 Dalmatians, and they remain viable box office fodder (see this year's massive success with The Jungle Book, for instance).

10. Spectre  ($200 mil)
Daniel Craig's final appearance as James Bond was a subdued success.

And selections from the rest of the list:
11. Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation ($195 mil)
13. The Revenant ($183 mil)
14. Ant-Man ($180 mil)
15. Home ($177 mil)
17. Fifty Shades of Grey ($ 166 mil)
19. Straight Outta Compton ($161 mil)
21. Mad Max: Fury Road ($153 mil)
23. The Divergent Series: Insurgent ($130 mil)
24. The Peanuts Movie ($130 mil)
27. Spy ($110 mil)
28. Trainwreck ($110 mil)
29. Creed ($109 mil)
30. Tomorrowland ($93 mil)
32. Terminator: Genisys ($89 mil)
33. Taken 3 ($89 mil)
37. Ted 2 ($81 mil)
42. Bridge of Spies ($72 mil)
44. The Big Short ($70 mil)
45. War Room ($67 mil)
47. The Visit ($65 mil)
52. Joy ($56 mil)
53. Fantastic Four ($56 mil)
54. The Hateful Eight ($54 mil)
59. Jupiter Ascending ($47 mil)
60. Sicario ($46 mil)
62. Spotlight ($44 mil)
69. The Age of Adaline ($42 mil)
73. Pan ($35 mil)
75. Concussion ($34 mil)
94. Ex Machina ($25 mil)
95. In the Heart of the Sea ($25 mil)
100. Aloha ($21 mil)
111. Room ($14 mil)
117. Carol ($12 mil)
119. Strange Magic ($12 mil)
121. Self/Less ($12 mil)
156. Anomalisa ($3 mil)
186. Legend ($1 mil)

Source: Box Office Mojo

860. Mock Squid Soup April 2016 - The Fall

Hey, everyone, I'm joining the Mock Squid Soup movies group for another month.  Hope you don't mind.  Soup's hosts are Mock! and Squid (although at least one of them would deny it, and we all know which one).  This month I'm going to talk about The Fall.  It's been a favorite of mine since I originally saw it in theaters, completely on a whim, and it becomes more and more a favorite in the years since.  It's just that good.

Hey, so you know The Princess Bride?  Well, The Fall is like The Princess Bride as an art film.  It's the story of a stuntman from the early days of Hollywood recuperating from, well, a fall.  His name is Roy Walker, and he's played by Lee Pace, who at the time was best known for the quirky TV series Pushing Daisies, but has since appeared in Peter Jackson's Hobbit movies and Guardians of the Galaxy.

This movie was a passion project for director Tarsem, by the way.  He labored for four years and largely financed it himself, and finally saw it hit the film festival circuit in 2006, although its theatrical release didn't happen until 2008.  Championed by David Fincher and Spike Jonze, The Fall garnered a rapturous review from the late Roger Ebert, but has otherwise languished in obscurity in the years that have followed.  It doesn't help that Tarsem has since become better known for The Immortals, Mirror Mirror, and Self/less, all of which failed to connect solidly with audiences or critics.  His earlier film The Cell, like the rest of his work, is well worth considering in the context of Tarsem's creative vision, and by itself.

But I'm here to sing the praises of The Fall.  If nothing else, please watch this film.  Here's a list of IMDb quotes from the movie to get you into it.  Most of the exchanges are between Roy and Alexandria, the precocious girl who's half the reason this movie works so exceptionally well.  The interplay, the pathos, and the humanity exhibited between them is breathtaking.  What Alexandria can't possibly realize, or appreciate, is that Roy is contemplating suicide the entire time she knows him.  He's heartsick over the loss his girlfriend to another member of the film production.  He spins incredible tales to amuse Alexandria, and the more time they spend together, the more the tales become a collaboration (whether Roy likes it or not).

The Princess Bride is an ingenious fairy tale told by a grandfather to his ailing grandson.  Yet you can forget the layers of The Princess Bride the more you get into its many fascinating characters.  Well, how about Governor Odious?  The name alone is outstanding.  He's the villain of The Fall, the enemy of a whole host of heroes, including a young Charles Darwin. Like The Wizard of Oz, Roy draws from people he and Alexandria know from the hospital, so that we get to know characters in various guises, including Roy himself, whom Alexandria eventually makes the star of the story as it takes shape, and she becomes his daughter.

Yeah.  And the art of it is a whole different level of what's to appreciate about The Fall.  If The Princess Bride is impossibly romantic, then The Fall is impossibly beautiful.  I think the only reason it's not better known is that it wasn't widely released and it's so hard to completely explain, except by analogy.  Which is why I'm making such a hard sell with the Princess Bride comparison.  Except some people won't give something a chance if it evokes a cherished experience, because some people will never let something touch their cherished experiences, and The Princess Bride has only become more and more beloved as time has passed.

The Fall is like that.  I'm not just saying that because it is for me, but because it's such a complete experience, something you really do need to see to believe, that you will watch again, and again, and still feel as if you haven't fully appreciated it.  It's a truly great film, and it's life-affirming in the best possible way, with an ending that you will laugh over and cheer for, and possibly even cry during...

Just watch it already.  You'll thank me later.

859. Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, and Deadpool

Well, shoot.  Zack Snyder's Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is about as perfect a superhero movie I've seen since The Dark Knight.

I loved his Watchman, his Man of Steel, and Marc Webb's Amazing Spider-Man 2, but Dawn of Justice is about as escalated as they get in terms of what Christopher Nolan achieved.  (Also in the running?  Oddly enough, Gore Verbinski's Lone Ranger.  Last thing you should ever do is listen to what the critics say.  Unless their name is Roger Ebert.  Which of course is completely impossible these days.)

There were two things about Man of Steel's ending that stuck in the craw of viewers: Superman killing Zod, and the wanton destruction of Metropolis.  Both of these are addressed in Dawn of Justice.  How often has a sequel so directly commented on its predecessor?  Go ahead, I'll wait.

What Snyder obviously hopes to accomplish is recontextualizing superheroes, at least in the movies.  There are plenty of viewers who want Avengers-style faire, obviously, and that's all well and good.  But some of us want something meatier.  Snyder's aim is to discuss superheroes in the grand scheme of history.  And actually, he does it by positing Superman (Republicans) and Batman (Democrats) as emblematic of the political shift post-9/11, as well as the wars of the past, with Lex Luthor boldly comparing Superman to the British (and by extension, Batman to Americans).

It's also a bold piece of psychological profiling.  Snyder is not particularly kind to Batman.  He likens the young Bruce Wayne, and the man he becomes, to someone suffering from PTSD in the wake of his parents' murder, plagued with dreams he sometimes can't differentiate from messianic visions.  He literally can't tell fact from fiction.  Although driven by the best of intentions, he can be easily manipulated by the likes of Lex Luthor, who is his opposite number in much the way Superman is.  What separates them is someone who truly does understand the past, who's been there.  Which is to say, Wonder Woman. 

Snyder's Superman has always been the boy who grew up troubled by his own potential, convinced by his father that he would never be accepted.  And throughout Dawn of Justice, we're reminded just how many angry voices there really are out there.  Superman, in this interpretation, is George W. Bush.  So, yeah.  Critics will hate him, because most voices in the media are liberal (liberals hated Bush, in case you'd forgotten), just as they were lukewarm to Quentin Tarantino's Hateful Eight because he had a Mexican as one of the bad guys in the era of Donald Trump.

The whole thing is a brilliant depiction of what happens when ideologies collide, and are either forced to obliterate each other or compromise, or even discover that they're not enemies after all (in this political climate, it's a truly sensational message).  From the introduction of Tim Burton's specter in 1989's Batman, superheroes lost their ability to exist in a black and white world.  When forced back in, audiences either chafe (Joel Schumacher's Batman) or go along with it (Joss Whedon's Avengers) because of the spectacle.  Because audiences can't refuse spectacle.  That alone will make Dawn of Justice a hit, despite all its nasty complications.  People who hate complicated will hate it.  That's just how it always is.  If they can't ignore it, they'll hate it.  But the spectacle of it will bring in loads of money anyway.

Deadpool is completely different while kind of exactly the same.  It's the logical extension of Burton's Joker, the clown who steals the show because he doesn't take anything seriously while also taking his own life extremely seriously.  Ryan Reynolds is the perfect guy to pull off this kind of role.  (I mean, in both its current cinematic incarnations.)  Deadpool was created to be the logical extension of the wisecracking archetype previously embodied by Robin and Spider-Man, except he never had a story that rooted him into anything of substance until now.  In the comics he's the biggest cult figure around, has been since he burst onto the scene twenty years ago, and is only now being recognized for it.  In the movies?  The only character capable of taking the Marvel approach to its zenith.  You wouldn't have Deadpool without Iron Man, who all but smirks through most of his scenes, but then becomes deadly earnest for whole moments at a time (that's why Iron Man 2 is the best Avengers movie, because it tries the hardest to strike a balance).

Marvel likes to harp on the legacy of the Nazis.  Dawn of Justice sidesteps the villains of 9/11 to reveal how it brought out, in the end, the worst in the good guys.  I mean, it's spelled out so plainly.  Why does Superman have to die and Batman be the one to found the Justice League?  Because that's what happened in the real world, too.

Dawn of Justice is a superhero movie with a big idea at its core.  I'm sure, one day, Superman will revert to being the big blue boy scout again.  But hopefully it won't happen anytime soon.  It's worth noting that this is the first time since Adam West that a live action Batman wears the grey and blue costume.  Snyder's often accused of being too pure to the source material.  This movie cobbles together a number of comic book source materials (Dark Knight Returns, "Death of Superman," Justice League: Origin), but in the end it's his original version of his earlier Watchmen.

Which I consider to be a very good thing.  Deadpool can't touch that.

857. A Further Reply to Armchair Squid

In which I present a rambling reply that was too long for the comments section and is probably of questionable merit, but here it is all the same...

Winter Soldier is about as good as any Marvel movie has gotten, but I've never for a minute believed Marvel was producing the best movies (let alone comics) despite how popular they are.  There's a huge gap between what's popular and what's good these days.  They're not always contradictory, and not always contradictory, and not always contradictory (all emphasis variations equally valid), and viewers realize this while not necessarily comprehending it (witness the rise of extreme hate for extremely popular movies even when they absolutely don't earn the hate).

We've grown increasingly unsophisticated as a culture.  I'm not talking sophistication such as classical music (which remains just as good as it ever was), or snappy banter (which is what a lot of Old Hollywood was about, like Philadelphia Story, which I would argue is far more an argument for how women rose in societal prominence in general post-WWII, when they began to shoulder far more of the culture than ever before; in a lot of ways we've been experiencing backlash from Hepburn's day, which is what happens every time society makes a huge push to help a given sector out). 

What most people deem the dumbing down of succeeding generations because of various pieces of technology is actually a reflection of disparate elements shrinking away from each other again and not having the slighted clue how to come back together.  We live in a nation with more land than it knows what to do with.  We're spread out, and we like it that way.  We like our isolation, even when something new comes along to make the world smaller (the phone, the car, the Internet).  And we're in the midst of a huge pushback.  We don't want to know what the other guy thinks.  And it retards everything. 

I keep coming back to this: We're aware that everyone thinks differently, but it's one thing to know it and another to understand it.  (We live in a culture that idolizes memorization without comprehension, and possibly it's always been that way.)  Obviously you like movies for different reasons than I do.  I keep going back to examples like Shakespeare and Melville because these are things generally recognized as genius now that were apparently incredibly easy to dismiss as so much fluff in their own day.  We still admire Marlowe and Twain, but for much the same reason we always did.  We see depth in Twain because Huck Finn gave Jim a chance, but in the end, Huck Finn is a boy whose grasp of the greater world is immature, not wise, and his journey with Jim one of rebellion, not conviction.  Ahab grapples with the fundamental questions of nature. 

We retreat to older things, because there was a time when we weren't so afraid to recognize good things for what they are (alongside the above examples, you understand).  We don't see that happening anymore.  Popular things are assumed to be rubbish.  And never given near the consideration as older things.  The same with new things in general.  Critics invariably like isolated things better.  Not necessarily the good isolated things, just the ones that are similar enough to the stuff they love, the stuff that doesn't challenge them, makes some general point but otherwise saying nothing new.  Because we hate challenges.  It's so much easier when there's a reasonable consensus about what we're supposed to like.  We're exactly like all the people who hated Elvis, who hated the Beatles.  And the people who liked Elvis, who would have had their say, don't say it, aren't allowed to be considered authorities.

So we become more and more unsophisticated, not because the culture lacks sophisticated things, but because we pretend it doesn't.  And then totally misinterpret what is sophisticated.  One final example.  To me, Pixar was both the birth and death of sophisticated animated movies.  It got so far ahead of itself that in its artistic pinnacle, WALL-E, it went for the most obvious, least sophisticated answers about life, the exact opposite of what it achieved with Ratatouille, what I consider to be the studio's best, in the ways it both supported and subverted animated movie norms.  Yet no one argues that Ratatouille is Pixar's best.  Which is completely incomprehensible to me.  Pixar has done a lot of variations on the mold at this point, something for everyone, and yet its best work is also likely to become, inexplicably, forgotten.  (At least for now.)

Technique is a funny thing.  It's very much a thing suited to the era where it originates.  Sometimes there's something so far ahead of its time, it takes a long time, predictably, for everyone else to catch up.  Star Wars is just the most obvious modern example of that.  Took decades for Hollywood to figure out how George Lucas did it.  We're living in that era now.  I agree that technique only exists to serve the storytelling.  That's why I look for the best stories, the best storytelling, and yes, the best technique.  Everyone likes to be entertained.  But the best work, to my mind, should be the hardest to enjoy.  But not this much.  At this point, Beethoven would be exactly what he probably was to countless readers of Peanuts, an insider reference to something otherwise never personally enjoyed.

...And I'll stop yammering now.  Because most of the time we talk in order to understand ourselves, most of all.  If it happens to help anyone else, so much the better...