As many movies as I watch, I've managed to avoid writing about them just as I've somehow managed to avoid writing about music. There is a current among movies that I've thought alot about recently, and it even says some interesting, although somewhat formulaic and obvious, things about our society.
We love sequels. I love sequels. But I've noticed that my favorite movie series mirror my culture's very identity in many respects. Inevitably failing to recreate the original triumph, it relies on technology, sex, and violence, to maintain its narrative.
Rocky. Incredible movie. Gritty is the most relevant adjective. I should cite the original dubya, Joshua Walker, on that one. That movie reeked of authenticity. Pauly and Rocky share a beer in the bathroom. Rocky walks to a shakedown, with nothing but his cigarettes and his racket ball for company. The object of Rocky's romantic fixation is not attractive or personable. Rocky loses the big fight. In the sequels, Rocky gets progressively tanner, cleaner, richer, more muscular, and more oily. And he bleeds onto the American flag. To the credit of this series, however, Rocky does end up poor and widowed, albeit happy in a punchdrunk sort of way.
Die Hard. John McClain. Wow, I've never noticed how close that is to John McCain. His campaign should really exploit that. There's a Method Man song with the line, "came to bring the pain now / die hard fans call me john john mcclain now". I can imagine that blasting at McCain rallies. Anyway, in the first Die Hard John McClain is as authentic as Rocky in '76. Real guy. Real problems. Divorced. Smokes. Fucks up European terrorists. Three movies later, he's driving a truck into a Harrier jet. And living. Because he quit smoking.
Matrix. The Matrix is a very important movie. It is the ultimate modern iteration of a timeless fable that recognizes no boundaries across space, time, or culture: red or blue pill? In the first Matrix, Neo's nemesis is a single agent, a certain Mr. Smith. "Missssssster Annnnnnnderson". In the third movie, Neo can fly, time-travel, and turn into Jesus. After he defeats 10,000 agents.
Alien. Watching Alien is a window into the golden age of balance between story and special effects. The Empire Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Ark (two of the best movies in American history, with Thriller-like status for every non-terrorist born between 1978 and 1983) also fell into this phase. There is writing, acting, and the special effects to simulate plausible scenery. The thing that strikes the viewer watching Alien is the fact that there is only one Alien. By Alien Resurrection (I don't like the trend of not numbering movies; it makes Netflix difficult), Sigourney Weaver (still alive, of course, after falling into a vat of acid with an alien bursting from her chest cavity), was killing several people, scores of aliens, and all sort of alien-human test-tube freaks. And somehow, she was still hot.
Rambo. First Blood, like Rocky, is a masterpiece. Again, the lack of blood is almost violently obvious, and ambitious in retrospect; there is a feeling that they respect the audience enough not to feel the need to throw an incessant flow of red meat. Rambo kills 7 people in First Blood, most of them unwillingly. (Parenthetical note: the sequel to First Blood was called First Blood, Part II. Come on. Just call it Second Blood.) I saw the preview for Rambo 4 last month. He killed at least 25 people in the fucking preview. Our society now needs more death in a preview to hold its attention than it used to need for an entire film.
Open up the newspaper any given day and look at what's in theatres. Then find out what percentage of "new movies" are sequels, adaptations of books, remakes, or TV spin-offs. The percentage of movies based on original stories is almost as low as the percentage of characters that are depicted having sex in those movies who are married. To each other. What culture. As John Rambo said, "Do we get to win this time?"
We love sequels. I love sequels. But I've noticed that my favorite movie series mirror my culture's very identity in many respects. Inevitably failing to recreate the original triumph, it relies on technology, sex, and violence, to maintain its narrative.
Rocky. Incredible movie. Gritty is the most relevant adjective. I should cite the original dubya, Joshua Walker, on that one. That movie reeked of authenticity. Pauly and Rocky share a beer in the bathroom. Rocky walks to a shakedown, with nothing but his cigarettes and his racket ball for company. The object of Rocky's romantic fixation is not attractive or personable. Rocky loses the big fight. In the sequels, Rocky gets progressively tanner, cleaner, richer, more muscular, and more oily. And he bleeds onto the American flag. To the credit of this series, however, Rocky does end up poor and widowed, albeit happy in a punchdrunk sort of way.
Die Hard. John McClain. Wow, I've never noticed how close that is to John McCain. His campaign should really exploit that. There's a Method Man song with the line, "came to bring the pain now / die hard fans call me john john mcclain now". I can imagine that blasting at McCain rallies. Anyway, in the first Die Hard John McClain is as authentic as Rocky in '76. Real guy. Real problems. Divorced. Smokes. Fucks up European terrorists. Three movies later, he's driving a truck into a Harrier jet. And living. Because he quit smoking.
Matrix. The Matrix is a very important movie. It is the ultimate modern iteration of a timeless fable that recognizes no boundaries across space, time, or culture: red or blue pill? In the first Matrix, Neo's nemesis is a single agent, a certain Mr. Smith. "Missssssster Annnnnnnderson". In the third movie, Neo can fly, time-travel, and turn into Jesus. After he defeats 10,000 agents.
Alien. Watching Alien is a window into the golden age of balance between story and special effects. The Empire Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Ark (two of the best movies in American history, with Thriller-like status for every non-terrorist born between 1978 and 1983) also fell into this phase. There is writing, acting, and the special effects to simulate plausible scenery. The thing that strikes the viewer watching Alien is the fact that there is only one Alien. By Alien Resurrection (I don't like the trend of not numbering movies; it makes Netflix difficult), Sigourney Weaver (still alive, of course, after falling into a vat of acid with an alien bursting from her chest cavity), was killing several people, scores of aliens, and all sort of alien-human test-tube freaks. And somehow, she was still hot.
Rambo. First Blood, like Rocky, is a masterpiece. Again, the lack of blood is almost violently obvious, and ambitious in retrospect; there is a feeling that they respect the audience enough not to feel the need to throw an incessant flow of red meat. Rambo kills 7 people in First Blood, most of them unwillingly. (Parenthetical note: the sequel to First Blood was called First Blood, Part II. Come on. Just call it Second Blood.) I saw the preview for Rambo 4 last month. He killed at least 25 people in the fucking preview. Our society now needs more death in a preview to hold its attention than it used to need for an entire film.
Open up the newspaper any given day and look at what's in theatres. Then find out what percentage of "new movies" are sequels, adaptations of books, remakes, or TV spin-offs. The percentage of movies based on original stories is almost as low as the percentage of characters that are depicted having sex in those movies who are married. To each other. What culture. As John Rambo said, "Do we get to win this time?"
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