Question: What does film have in common with fashion and politics?
Answer: They all follow trends. Even in our contemporary world of subcultures, niche audiences and infinite choices, where studios tailor their products to encompass a gamut of genres and tastes, gracing us with everything from micro-budget indies to titanic blockbusters, you can often find common threads running through movies released during a given time period. Some trends, like the patriotic/anti-Communist films of the 1950s and the reactionary female-psycho thrillers that dominated the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, make an enduring impact on the pop culture landscape, often reflective of the current social and political climate. Others simply occur when two different studios happen to release two different re-imaginings of the Snow White fairy tale within two months of each other (pure coincidence, right? Right?). It’s all pretty arbitrary, of course; you don’t need a PhD in calculus to be able to select a few random, tangentially related movies and say, “Oh, look, they all revolve around x! This must mean something!”, which is essentially what critics get paid to do.
Still,
as we venture into the great unknown that is 2013, I thought it might be
interesting to look back at the styles, subjects and themes that captured the
cinematic zeitgeist of 2012. And yes, I do know that it’s almost the end of
January and way past the appropriate time for reminiscence. No, I don’t care.
In 2008, superhero blockbusters were “in” (see: Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, The Dark Knight), though to be fair, superhero movies have been “in” every year since then. 2009 had dystopian/apocalyptic sci-fi (see: District 9, The Road, Terminator: Salvation, 9, etc.), and in 2011, it was nostalgia (Hugo, Midnight in Paris, The Artist, pretty much everything else). 2012, I think, was epitomized by two rather encouraging trends: 1) strong female characters and 2) ambition.
Motherfuckin' badass.
For the purposes of this article, however, I’m more
interested in the second trend listed above – the surprising abundance of
movies that, in one way or another, ventured to stray from the familiar and take
a leap of faith. 2012 didn’t quite reach the same level quality-wise as 2010,
which produced at least two destined-to-be modern classics (Inception and The Social Network) and was one of the few years in which the
public, critics and the Oscars all liked pretty much the same movies. And like
every other year, 2012 burst at the seams with sequels, remakes, forgettable adaptations
and Battleship,
seemingly confirming the popular opinion of Hollywood as an industry of lazy
hack filmmakers who make a living by recycling stale ideas and pandering to
lowest-common-denominator audiences.
Remember this? Yeah, me neither.
But amidst the never-ending parade of Twilights and Hangovers
and lesser imitations of age-old archetypes, the copies of copies, we got
glimmers of hope – proof that there still exist filmmakers daring and singular
enough to ignite our collective imaginations. How often do we have the
privilege of seeing a movie that spans not only centuries and civilizations but
also genres, as well as one centered on one of the most iconic figures in
American history?
Of course, not every film that aims for the stars is guaranteed to reach them, and 2012 had its fair share of magnificent failures. Cloud Atlas, the expensive (for an indie) adaptation of David Mitchell’s acclaimed novel, has been called one of the most ambitious films ever made due to its attempt to encompass the entirety of the human experience in six interlocking stories. Sadly, although even most of the movie’s detractors took the time to acknowledge the sheer audacity of the endeavor, Cloud Atlas ultimately failed to live up to its promise, garnering wildly mixed reviews and crippled by a disappointing unwillingness to truly push the envelope. Don’t get me wrong: I admire Andy and Lana Wachowski and Tom Tykwer for having the guts to direct the movie in the first place, but everything, from the casting of Tom Hanks and Halle Berry to the too-long action scenes and the refusal to even try to replicate the novel’s Russian nesting doll structure, feels like a halfhearted attempt to appeal to so-called mainstream audiences. Similarly, Prometheus should be commended for its efforts to explore the interplay between science and religion and reveal nothing less than the origin of life, but by combining its spiritual musings with a more conventional Alien sequel, it ended up as a jumbled (albeit largely diverting) mess. And John Carter had enough behind-the-scenes tension to merit its own feature-length movie.
Of course, not every film that aims for the stars is guaranteed to reach them, and 2012 had its fair share of magnificent failures. Cloud Atlas, the expensive (for an indie) adaptation of David Mitchell’s acclaimed novel, has been called one of the most ambitious films ever made due to its attempt to encompass the entirety of the human experience in six interlocking stories. Sadly, although even most of the movie’s detractors took the time to acknowledge the sheer audacity of the endeavor, Cloud Atlas ultimately failed to live up to its promise, garnering wildly mixed reviews and crippled by a disappointing unwillingness to truly push the envelope. Don’t get me wrong: I admire Andy and Lana Wachowski and Tom Tykwer for having the guts to direct the movie in the first place, but everything, from the casting of Tom Hanks and Halle Berry to the too-long action scenes and the refusal to even try to replicate the novel’s Russian nesting doll structure, feels like a halfhearted attempt to appeal to so-called mainstream audiences. Similarly, Prometheus should be commended for its efforts to explore the interplay between science and religion and reveal nothing less than the origin of life, but by combining its spiritual musings with a more conventional Alien sequel, it ended up as a jumbled (albeit largely diverting) mess. And John Carter had enough behind-the-scenes tension to merit its own feature-length movie.
You know it’s bad when a movie’s advertising is more interesting
than the actual movie.
As evidenced by the aforementioned letdowns as well as countless other failed passion projects,
there’s a fine line between the creative and commercial sides of filmmaking,
which makes it all the more impressive when a director manages to deliver a
crowd-pleaser without sacrificing his artistic vision. Big-budget blockbusters
aren’t generally thought of as ambitious, and indeed, they pose less financial
risk to studios than niche indies, but 2012 was an exceptional year for
spectacle-driven tent-poles not only because their collective box office
success led to a
slight yet welcome rebound for the recently struggling film industry, but
also because many of them aspired to be more than disposable popcorn fluff.
Although it lacked the rapturous reviews and cultural impact of its
predecessor, The Dark Knight Rises
provided a satisfying, properly dramatic conclusion to the story of Bruce Wayne
as embodied by Christian Bale, that master of brooding intensity and steely
dedication. By using the façade of a genre crowd-pleaser to probe relevant
issues of government, class and shattered ideals, Christopher Nolan
accomplished a rare feat: he crafted a narrative that was every bit as mythic
as its hero. Rises was joined by The Avengers, the first superhero group movie, which required director
Joss Whedon to juggle roles for six lead actors; The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, which had the unenviable task of
following up one of the most beloved series of all time; and The Hunger Games, a young adult novel
adaptation about a decidedly adult subject matter. We can debate forever about
the merits of each individual film, but as a whole, they gave us yet another
reminder that the word “blockbuster” does not have to be synonymous with
superficiality.
On the other side of the spectrum, indie filmmakers continued to prove that just because you have limited resources, it doesn’t mean you have to limit your ambitions. Recently, it seems as though the independent film industry has experienced a surge of inspiration, as visually spectacular, thematically complex projects like 2009’s District 9 and 2011’s Take Shelter exhibit astonishing ingenuity in their ability to transcend their low budgets. Last year, this surge reached a new peak with Whedon’s twisted horror send-up Cabin in the Woods, Behn Zeitlin’s fantasy-infused, Louisiana-set and (now) Oscar-nominated Beasts of the Southern Wild, Paul Thomas Anderson’s meticulous meditation on post-war masculinity and faith The Master, Joe Wright’s gorgeous, highly experimental (and, in my opinion, underrated) adaptation of Anna Karenina, Rian Johnson’s mind-bending sci-fi actioner Looper and Leos Carax’s trippy, enigmatic critical darling Holy Motors, among numerous others I’m surely forgetting. It’s ironic that many of these little-known movies contain special effects just as stunning as those in even the most expensive, CGI-infested blockbuster, if not more so.
In a
year characterized by movies with grand scopes and lofty goals, it’s perhaps a
little unfitting that the current frontrunner for Best Picture at the Oscars,
after snatching the top prize at the Producers
Guild Awards, the Golden
Globes, the Critics’
Choice Awards, and the Screen
Actors Guild Awards, is Argo, Ben
Affleck’s ‘70s-style thriller about Hollywood and the Iran hostage crisis.
Despite its topical subject matter, Argo
is essentially an old-fashioned popcorn flick, using the Middle-East largely as
a backdrop for escapist hijinks, and with its immaculate period detail, the
film sings with nostalgia. It’s not exactly ground-breaking or even
particularly bold, especially when compared to other Best Picture contenders
like the aforementioned Lincoln, Life of Pi (one example of a successful adaptation of a book
previously thought to be unfilmable), Zero
Dark Thirty (Kathryn Bigelow’s docudrama following one of the most mysterious
chapters of recent American history), Django
Unchained (Quentin Tarantino’s predictably violent and provocative revenge
fantasy about slavery) and even Les
Miserables (a sprawling, grandiose silver screen version of the hit stage
musical). But with the exception of one plot device that stretches the
boundaries of plausibility, the movie is more or less flawless, both wildly
entertaining and intelligent, if not thought-provoking. Does it matter that it
doesn’t say anything new? In a similar vein, Silver Linings Playbook, another prominent Oscar contender, is a conventional
romantic comedy disguised as a quirky dramedy (ugh) about family, redemption,
hope, etcetera, yet it’s directed with such keen-eyed finesse by David O.
Russell and the actors are so charismatic that you barely notice the
predictability of it all, at least not until the end.
Do these movies deserve to be crowned Best Picture? I’ve always considered the Oscars a time capsule of sorts, a way to showcase movies that captured the mood of a given year or had a significant influence on society, and in that sense, neither Argo nor Silver Linings Playbook is the best candidate. On the other hand, though, I think good execution more than makes up for any lack of ambition. Besides, it’s not like Argo and Silver Linings Playbook didn’t have challenges of their own: in the former, Affleck impeccably wove together a variety of different tones, from suspense to biting satire, and the latter is one of the few films I’ve seen that treats mental illness with compassion and restraint in equal measure.
Do these movies deserve to be crowned Best Picture? I’ve always considered the Oscars a time capsule of sorts, a way to showcase movies that captured the mood of a given year or had a significant influence on society, and in that sense, neither Argo nor Silver Linings Playbook is the best candidate. On the other hand, though, I think good execution more than makes up for any lack of ambition. Besides, it’s not like Argo and Silver Linings Playbook didn’t have challenges of their own: in the former, Affleck impeccably wove together a variety of different tones, from suspense to biting satire, and the latter is one of the few films I’ve seen that treats mental illness with compassion and restraint in equal measure.
Why, Pixar? WHY?!
Still, we’re still stuck in the black hole that is the
months of January and February (which have, as far as I can remember, not
produced a great movie since The Silence
of the Lambs back in 1991), so it’s only expected that I’d feel a bit
cynical right now. If nothing else, it sounds as though the Sundance Film
Festival has turned in a
remarkably good slate this year; could 2013 be the Year of the Indie,
perhaps? And Upside Down looks
like it could be this year’s Cloud Atlas
except actually mind-bending, not
racist and maybe – just maybe – good.
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