Posts Tagged ‘films’

Exhibit #10 Passable New Films Based On Pre-Noughties Intellectual Property

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

Watchmen, Transformers, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Terminator: Salvation, Spiderman, Batman, Indy IV, V for Vendetta, The Harry Potter Series, Twilight… the noughties saw the blockbuster movie become an exercise in rebranding things that people already liked and then making them excited about them because they already liked them and then carefully causing their excitement to crest by judiciously timing the introduction into the films of things they especially liked from the thing they already liked.

This often resulted in quite good films that were fun to watch. The only problem is that now we have eaten all our cakes there won’t be any cake tomorrow. What will we do in the 2010s when we want to watch something fun and exciting? There’s hardly anything  left to remake. This means we’ll either have to re-remake all the stuff we  re-made in the noughties or come up with something new – and that will be hard because all the original, brilliant, franchise inventing writers have probably given up and killed themselves leaving nothing but suicide notes, ironically reimagined from great suicide notes of the eighties.

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Exhibit #9 Fahrenheit 9/11

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

If there was a turning point in the noughties – a moment that we can point to as the decade’s fulcrum – the gravitational mass weighing on the rubber sheet of goodness pulling it all down into the y axis of shit – then it has to be the re-election of George W. Bush in 2004.

Not because I especially hated George Bush – I hated him a normal amount – and not because of any ridiculous anti-americanism that paints George Bush as a worse leader than the tyrants and terrorists: The problem with George Bush’s unequivocal, uncontested trouncing of John Kerry was the way it just left everything feeling hopeless. Scared beat clever. Swiftboating beat arguing. Religion beat, well… pretend religion. It was almost as if The West Wing wasn’t an accurate reflection of reality – a notion I refuse to entertain.

There was nothing to cling to. No hanging chads or false consciousness – just the truth: that everybody in the world was pissed off with everybody else and that nobody cared too much to hide it.

And, just to make it worse, was the horrible realisation that lots of us had gone along with Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11 and were now tainted with the same shit as the winners and consequently were unable even to enjoy the moral highground once everything started to fall apart.

We’d ignored the mawkish sentimentality, logical contortions and crude demagoguery. We’d plugged it, discussed it, even paid money to see it. We’d sat back and taken it while Michael Moore argued that it was awful that black people were being sent to die in a war while simultaneously arguing that more troops needed to be sent to die in a war. We’d lapped up the carefully worded innuendos about the ‘white house’ arranging for members of the Bin Laden family to be flown out of the US after 9/11, even though Richard Clarke had taken sole responsibility for the 9/20 flight before the film went on general release.

We’d watched this bit, where, without captions to tell you who we’re actually looking at and with only the most cursory, barely connected nod to ‘human rights’ at the end – we are shown an extended pop video of White house staff and Bush family members standing next to people who look foreign and scary.

Are we supposed to recognise all these carry on up the khyber-style Arabs? Which ones are the ones that gave the money? Which ones did the human rights abuses? It doesn’t make a blind bit of difference – this is just an appeal to racism that can barely even be bothered to dress itself up as anything else – and we all lay back and took it.

We nodded along with slackjawed approval as he intruded on people’s grief, presented pre-war Iraq as a happy land of swingsets and hobbits, used every tabloid trick imaginable to manipulate us… and it didn’t even fucking work.

If it had done what it was supposed to – if it had reached a large enough audience of middle ground voters to swing the election – then it would still have been a horrible, greetings card mockery of an argument but at least it wouldn’t have mattered. As it was, Bush got re-elected anyway, and the Limbaughs and Hannitys and Coulters could walk around with a new air of smugness, happy in the knowledge that, however much you lower the bar, there will always be some fat fucker willing to limbo under it.

The noughties saw us forget that our enemy’s enemies are not necessarily our friends. It’s a lesson we should try to remember.

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Exhibit #4 Nobody Inventing Nuclear Fusion… Again!

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

John F. Kennedy, speaking in 1961,  announced to a divided but hopeful world, that,

“I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth.”

Of course, we are noughties people, and noughties people are nothing if not prone to scoffing cynicism – so we may well react to this by damning the cold war; by making a ham-fisted ‘joke’ about American imperialism not being limited to the earth, yeah?; by bringing up the faltering sense of decline at NASA since the sixties…

But stop it – you grow dull and predictable in your received opinions. The only thing that really matters about the Kennedy moon speech is that it worked. He staked the pride of a nation on a single goal – and that goal was achieved. And the people who were too busy having sexy parties to bother writing trivial list-based pseudo-journalism at the end of the sixties could afford to do so with smiles on their faces. Sure, there was all that unpleasantness in Southeast Asia, but we went to the fucking moon. Score draw.

Imagine, if you will, an alternative noughties where a visionary young president had reacted to the horror of 9/11 by bringing back the best of the cold war mentality and making an enormously ambitious declaration of purpose.

My Fellow Americans

He’d have said

Today we have been attacked by massive dicks, and believe me, if I ever get my hands on them I will fuck them up. But while the sense of grief compels us to reorder the world, we will respond to the challenge of this day by looking not to the path of hate but to the future, to the continued greatness of this union, and to a day when we can look back on these first years of the 21st century not as a time of ending, but of renewal, of a new beginning for America. It is to this end that here, today, I announce this bold new commitment. By January 1st 2015, as God is our witness, we will have invented all of the technology required to make Back To The Future… Part II a reality.

Because – right – why hasn’t that film been a guiding principle of western governments’ science funding policies ever since it came out?

It was a very popular film.

If we get to 2015 without pizza-rehydrating, hoverboards, hover conversions, holographic 3D projection, drug-free sleep guns and bionic bullying implants a palpable sense of disappointment and despondency will seep through our civilisation like a disease. Sure, not everyone will make the connection, but deep in our augmented cultural psyches we will know. We will look out at the world through jaded eyes, crushed in some small, eternal way by the knowledge. We will cease to believe in our ability to invent, to evolve, to effect change – you think the credit crunch was bad? you wait.

We have wasted the legacy of Back To The Future… Part II in the noughties. While we were panicking about flus that never happened and disasters that never came, we could have been designing the talking jacket, we could have been making all those Jaws sequels, we could have been pouring public money into any area of research with the potential to harness the power of cold fusion, solve the world’s energy crisis, end pollution and global warming and give us those little Mr. Fusion things that make your car run on fag ends and banana skins.

Epic fail, western civilisation. Epic, epic fail.

Build Your Own Mr. Fusion and Gasify Your Car With Garbage - from Gizmodo

Build Your Own Mr. Fusion and Gasify Your Car With Garbage - from Gizmodo

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Exhibit #2 Special Sex

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

Before the noughties, everyone said things like ’sex is special, wait until you’re ready’ or ‘you should try and talk openly with your parents about sex’, but nobody actually followed through: virginities were lost in the same brief, seedy fumblings as they always were and the whole thing was just another vague disappointment that you had to get over. In the 2000s, however, people started to believe the hype. The doctrine of ’specialness’ became so widespread and accepted that teenagers who tried to have normal, recreational, unspecial sex were back to being slags and scallies while nice middle-class teenagers graduated from chastity-ring wearing monstrosities like the Jonas Brothers to mormon-penned tomes about abstinential vampires. Major Hollywood films replaced the ’sex scene’ with the ‘very realistic punching someone scene’ and everybody got very frustrated and started writing anonymous porn on the internet.

Seriously, if you want to make some money, go and pitch the following to a major studio: Remake of Weird Science in which – instead of two boys making an artificial Kelly le Brock to shower with – two girls write a magic fanfic that comes to life as an artificial Robert Pattinson who stares at them for half an hour and then starts crying. You will be a billionaire.

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