Summer is a dry season, but who would have expected most films coming out to be such crap. Traditionally, summer is when hack directors emerge from hibernation, hoping to increase their treasure – box office receipts – by delivering bloated, nonsensical films. That this is the status quo is no reason why audiences cannot hope for better. In the race to surpass 2007’s record take of more than $4 billion for the four-month period, Hollywood has stinted on the elemental nutrients of plot and sense, opting for easy bombast. This is evident in the alarming reliance on previous material and the fear of attempting anything new. John Simon, a former film critic with the National Review, noted in his review of the Exorcist II that the greatest plague in movies was the plague of sequels. “If there is one relatively easy thing the public can do now to improve the state of American movies, it is to stay away resolutely from sequels and remakes,” Simon said. Nothing has improved 30 years later. There is a need to ask why interesting material can only be derived from comics – Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, The Dark Knight, Hellboy – retired TV series – Speed Racer, Sex and the City, X-Files, Get Smart – and franchises – Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, The Mummy, The Clone Wars. My problem lies not with the origin of summer movies; after all, new wine can be found in old wineskins. Rather it is that the shrinking sources of our films mean audiences will be open to an ever-declining pool of aesthetic experiences and pleasures. Penn State professor Matt McAllister wrote in the Journal of Popular Film and Television that comic book-based films had helped establish the formula for our present blockbusters. “Comic book materials attract a youthful movie going demographic, appeal to nostalgic older audiences and offer thrills and well-defined archetype characters, especially heroes who also have well-established track records for popularity, licensing and sequel potential,” McAllister said. In other words, films are now created to keep audiences in mature adolescence, perpetually surrounded by familiar figures of the past, even as they ignore the beauty of the present and dismiss the mystery of the future. A glance at a few popular releases could serve as examples for the failure that has been summer 2008. “Iron Man,” an adaptation of Stan Lee’s Marvel Comic character, for the most part, was an improvement on comic book figures. It nevertheless drowned in a trite ending reminiscent of Michael Bay’s “Transformers.” “The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian,” the second installment of the franchise based on C. S. Lewis’ beloved children’s books, focused on the return of the Pevensie kids to Narnia and a young prince’s effort to reclaim the throne stolen from his father. What should have been an examination into lost innocence, child-like faith and tolerance for shared differences, instead received the standard treatment and came out as just another “Lord of the Rings” epigone. Its emphasis on the fight sequences, which are merely average, meant that those who had not read the “Chronicles of Narnia” series missed an opportunity to appreciate Lewis’ challenging thought. “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” was a genuine disappointment. After the success of “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, director Steven Spielberg had followed up with the middling “Temple of Doom”, before redeeming himself with the “Last Crusade.” Lamentably, labeling the “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” as part of the Indiana Jones franchise is to imply guilt by association. This infernal infant produced from the intercourse of two inflated egos is an exercise in self-aggrandizement and opportunistic filmmaking. “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” looked wrong. Films should be beautiful, but cinematography determines the mood and can help emphasize the film’s thrust. Here, the white lighting felt out of place in an adventure film that had thrived on familiarity with its different locations. The absurd cliffhangers and the failure to consider if Jones’ pursuit of artifacts amounts to a form of cultural imperialism meant the “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” was all shadow and no substance. “Sex and the City: The Movie,” though below par, was a more enjoyable film than the “Crystal Skull.” The film must be applauded for casting women over 40 years old, when chances are they would be in TV purgatory, acting as cops on TNT. Unfortunately, its running time proved a major hindrance in fashioning a suitable script. To expand content, the screenwriter resorted to sleight-of-hand tactics that hit the right notes, but not much more. It distorted the male-female relationship, dishonestly portrayed men in a bad light, exalted its unrealistic brand of sisterhood and finished by tepidly denouncing a materialistic culture it had revelled in for more than two hours. Need we speak of “Speed Racer”? Like Evan Baxter, of this movie drought we can only plead “Is it too much to ask for a little precipitation?”
—-Contact Freke Ette at [email protected]