I have nothing to add to this. He absolutely nails it so well that I can't say anything to add to it.2010: The Worst Movie Year Ever?
By JOE QUEENAN
In the new movie "Inception," Leonardo DiCaprio burrows deep into the subconscious of a self-absorbed plutocrat to plant a powerful idea that will change the world. If the technology used in "Inception" were available in real life, Mr. DiCaprio might burrow into the subconscious of Hollywood plutocrats and plant these paradigm-altering ideas: Stop making movies like "Grown Ups," "Sex and the City 2," "Prince of Persia" and anything that positions Jennifer Aniston or John C. Reilly at the top of the marquee. Stop trying to pass off Shia LaBeouf—who looks a bit like the young George W. Bush—as the second coming of Tom Cruise. Stop casting Gerard Butler in roles where he is called upon to emote. And if "Legion" and "Edge of Darkness" and "The Back-up Plan" and "Hot Tub Time Machine" are the best you can do, stop making movies, period. Humanity will thank you for it.
Critics have been panning many of the movies to hit theaters this summer. But are the films still raking in money at the box office?
In a millennium that has thus far produced precious few motion pictures in the same class as "The Godfather," "Jurassic Park," "Casablanca," "Gone with the Wind," "My Fair Lady" and "The Matrix," there is a knee-jerk tendency to throw up one's hands and moan that the current year is the worst in the history of motion pictures.
But 2010 very possibly is the worst year in the history of motion pictures.
Where once there was "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves," there is now "Robin Hood," prince of duds. Where once we could look forward to "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and "The Last of the Mohicans," we can now look forward to "Dinner for Schmucks" and "The Last Airbender."
This time two years ago we were treated to the ingenious, subversive "Iron Man"; this year we have the insipid, uninspired "Iron Man 2."
What does it say about the current season that the third installation of "Toy Story" is better than the first installation of anything else? Or that people are actually looking forward to a sequel to the 1982 flop "Tron"? Does this mean that a sequel to "The Rocketeer" will soon be on the way? Quick, Leonardo: Penetrate somebody's subconscious. Fast.
Hollywood's historical mission is not merely to provide a steady stream of engaging movies for a society that simply can't wait for the weekend. It is also to generate a continuous sense of excitement about movies themselves. It's not just that people like to watch movies; they like to anticipate movies, to talk them up long before their release. Sometimes this is because of the epic scale of the undertaking ("Titanic," "Avatar," "Cleopatra," "GoneWith the Wind"), sometimes because of dark rumblings about serious problems with the film ("Ishtar," "Vanilla Sky," "The Passion of the Christ," "Waterworld"), and sometimes because of an entirely unforeseen event, like Madonna's decision to invade an industry that was getting along just fine without her ("Desperately Seeking Susan") or Heath Ledger's untimely death scant months before the public got to see his amazing turn as the Joker in "The Dark Knight." And sometimes it's simply because, as in the case of "Avatar," "Braveheart" and "Apocalypto," everyone in the film has his face painted blue.
Traditionally, the public gets all revved up for films during the winter and spring, imagining how much fun the summer is going to be once Neo or Darth Vader or the Terminator gets here. Or, barring that, when those great white sharks, pesky gremlins or designer brontosauruses blow through town. No such excitement exists this year. Go into a movie theater any day of the week and watch as the audience sits listlessly through a series of lame, mechanical trailers for upcoming films that look exactly like the D.O.A. movies audiences avoided last week.
More films about misunderstood mercenaries. More films about rogue cops. More films about the pivotal role of choreography in rescuing the underclass from its own worst instincts. More movies about congenial thugs from South Boston. More films about boys who do not want to grow up, ever, ever, ever.
More movies about cats.
Admittedly, Hollywood is fighting a war on numerous fronts, and losing all of them.
Revenues may be holding up but that is only because ticket prices keep rising; overall ticket sales are down. And because of the enormous cost of marketing a film—even a low-budget film—Hollywood likes to play it safe. This is why it's a whole lot easier to get a sequel to "Shrek" or "Tron" or "Predator" produced these days. This is an industry that actually makes sequels to bombs— "The Incredible Hulk" is a case in point—simply because the subject matter of the film is at least familiar to audiences. And because the public will have seen so many bad films between the original and the sequel, it may forget how bad the original "Hulk" was. "The Four Amigos" could soon be on its way.
It's not just a case of cowardice; the industry is legitimately confused. The age of the bankable, surefire matinee idol seems to be over, as the industry has discovered with Tom Cruise and Julia Roberts' most recent films. Freshly minted stars like Clive Owen and Daniel Craig sometimes open big, and sometimes do not open at all. With The Rock unconscionably defecting to the world of kiddie comedies, Hollywood is still casting about for a bona fide action star. This year it has auditioned Jake Gyllenhaal ("Prince of Persia"), Adrien Brody ("Predators") and even the game but superannuated Liam Neeson ("The A-Team"). None of these are logical heirs to the throne abandoned by Arnold Schwarzenegger and Harrison Ford and Sylvester Stallone. They are certainly not heirs to the throne vacated by Jet Li and Jackie Chan. They may not even be legitimate heirs to the throne vacated by Steven Seagal and Jean-Claude Van Damme. Vin Diesel, come home, all is forgiven. Well, maybe not "The Pacifier." Or "Babylon A.D." On second thought, Vin, stay away.
Every year, by tacit agreement with the public, Hollywood is expected to produce at least one surprise hit, one out-of-nowhere dark horse or, in a pinch, one cunningly hyped movie that either exhumes a noted actor from the grave or greases the skids so some solid journeyman can ascend to the ranks of the Oscar Winners of yore. The movie doesn't have to be especially good—"Crazy Heart" and "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" certainly weren't—nor does it have to be a homegrown product—"La Vita è Bella," "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Amélie" were all imports—nor does it even have to be a financial bonanza—neither "The Wrestler" nor "The Hurt Locker" broke any box-office records. But it has to be the sort of sleeper hit that the American people start talking about, the kind of movie that leads to an unexpected comeback, or spirited blog postings or a fawning Barbara Walters interview.
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2010 doesn't have one of these movies. "The Kids Are All Right," arguably the most heartwarming lesbian romantic comedy ever, is trying to fill that slot, but whatever its merits, it's no "Sideways," no "March of the Penguins."
The only other candidates for this role would seem to be Robert Duvall's upcoming turn as a crusty old varmint in "Get Low" and Ben Affleck's big-screen comeback in "The Town." Critics also might start banging the drum for the latest film showcasing the ethereal Tilda Swinton or some heartwarming motion picture about lachrymose camels or motorcycling proto-totalitarians or English spinsters who inexplicably decide to become crack dealers, but so far nothing truly phenomenal like "Slumdog Millionaire" seems to be on the horizon.
If movies have a somewhat moldy feel this year, this should come as no surprise. Atom Egoyan's dud "Chloe" was a remake of "Nathalie," a so-so French melodrama about a woman who hires a call girl to seduce her husband, with unsatisfactory results. "Dinner for Schmucks," which promises to be the worst film of the year, is a remake of the brilliant 1998 French comedy "Le Dîner de Cons." Judging from the previews, it is a clump of spittle aimed directly at Lafayette's face. "Predators" is nothing more than "Predator" in Outer Space, with the action taking place on a planet that appears to be Parallel Guatemala. "Piranha 3D" sounds an awful lot like "Piranha," "Repo Men" sounds just a wee bit like "Repo Man," and "Death at a Funeral" is a nearly-all-African-American remake of an English comedy that itself was only intermittently amusing. That film, by the way, was called "Death at a Funeral." Leonardo, burrow deeper.
For similar reasons, one could certainly be forgiven for confusing "A Single Man" with "Solitary Man," and for that matter, "A Serious Man." "Solitary Man," for the record, is the film where Michael Douglas plays an evil businessman whose family despises him. This is not to be confused with the upcoming "Wall Street" sequel where Michael Douglas plays an evil businessman whose family despises him, but who gets along like a house on fire with protégé and apprentice numskull Shia LaBeouf.
It says an awful lot about the industry that the most intelligent movies being released today are animated films like "Alice in Wonderland" and "Toy Story 3." (The best films of the year have a "3" in their titles; the films with a "2" are horrible.) Even the animated duds—standard-issue fare like "Despicable Me" and "Shrek Forever After"—display more overall intelligence and panache than "The Back-up Plan" or "Green Zone."
Late in Game One of the recent NBA Finals between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics, Lakers superstar Kobe Bryant stared directly ahead at the action on court and refused to acknowledge the presence of Chris Rock, who had been planted right next to him by minions of an industry that has no sense of occasion. Mr. Rock, himself ensconced next to "Grown Ups" co-stars David Spade, Kevin James and Adam Sandler, repeatedly tried to get Mr. Bryant's attention, but Mr. Bryant refused to even look at him. At the time, it was theorized by sportswriters that Mr. Bryant's pointedly dissing a comic routinely described as the planet's funniest man, without any corroborating evidence for the claim, underscored the ballplayer's "focus": his utter commitment to garnering his fifth championship ring. But a more plausible explanation is this: Mr. Bryant was sitting there the whole time wondering whose idea it was to give the washed-up stars of the worst film of the year—at least until "Dinner for Schmucks"—courtside seats next to one of the greatest players to ever step onto a court.
If the technology Leonardo DiCaprio uses in "Inception" were available in real life, he could burrow deep into the subconscious of the stars and directors and producers of the film and plant this idea, for which humanity would be eternally grateful: "Please just go away. Please."
In the case of the subconscious of those responsible for "Grown Ups," Leonardo might not have to burrow that deep.
Interesting sidebar to the column:
Today's dud can be tomorrow's classic. Here are some examples of now-beloved films that underwhelmed when they first hit the screen
Casablanca (1942)
"Casablanca" was one of many World War II-era films with patriotic themes churned out by the studios, and while Humphrey Bogart was a star and Ingrid Bergman on her way, few thought the film was that distinguishable from a host of others. The New York World-Telegram called it "not the best of the recent Bogarts." And years later Pauline Kael famously called it "specially appealing schlocky romanticism." Although it won a Best Picture Oscar, it didn't truly break from the pack until it became a college campus hit, then a TV staple. Now it's probably the most beloved, and most quoted, of all American films.
It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
With mixed reviews and a very ordinary opening, this wasn't considered a stand-out for Frank Capra or Jimmy Stewart, but two things catapulted it to ubiquity. One was Christmas and the appetites of television. The other was Republic Pictures' lapse in renewing the copyright in 1974, making the film part of the public domain for 19 years just as the home-video revolution hit, flooding stores and airwaves.
Harold and Maude (1971)
This dark Hal Ashby comedy, with Bud Cort and Ruth Gordon as a teenage boy and elderly woman caught up in a "May-December" romance, was unpopular with critics and audiences when it first opened. Roger Ebert and Vincent Canby both found its life-affirming themes annoyingly trite. But as the decade wore on, art-house theaters in big cities and college towns began showing it and it swiftly achieved counterculture cult status. Today, the American Film Institute recognizes "Harold and Maude" as one of the "funniest movies of all time."
Scarface (1983)
This drama, written by Oliver Stone and starring Al Pacino (above, with Robert Loggia), also featured a then-unknown Michelle Pfeiffer. When first released, it was considered to be yet another over-the-top Brian De Palma movie, complete with a chain saw murder and an operatic, corpse-riddled climax. The film, about a Cuban marielito refugee turned coke magnate, brought in a respectable $65.9 million world-wide but many reviews dismissed it as an overwrought bloodfest. It didn't garner a single Academy Award nomination. But two decades later, hip-hop culture adopted the film and it took new cultural flight.
The Big Lebowski (1998)
This comedy was relatively unheralded compared with other films by the Coen brothers, perhaps because it directly followed the popular "Fargo." The San Francisco Chronicle found the film "scattered, over amplified and unsatisfying" and New York magazine called Jeff Bridges's character a "sad-sack hero." It brought in a lowly $17.5 million at the box office. But word of mouth and home video jump-started it among slacker fans a few years later, and The Dude has continued to abide ever since.
—Lauren Fedor
