Marvel: the Prime Meridian of Today's Box Office

Credit: Wikimedia Commons/SVG/Disney

By Arun Kakar 

Where does Marvel go next? This was the question we discussed on the latest edition of the podcast. Some 20 films into the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) and after the success of infinity War, it would seem that the studio is picking up steam rather than thinking about calling it a day.

‘It’s Marvel’s universe. We just live in it,’ declared New York Times Critic A.O Scott in his review of Avengers: Infinity War, in which he confronts the evolution of the MCU from a commercial undertaking to immutable fact of life. ‘This universe is engineered for variety and inclusiveness, within certain strict parameters,’ wrote Scott. ‘Above all, the Disney-Marvel combination is a giant machine that manufactures maximum consent.’

He’s not wrong, but neither is he complaining. The concept of blockbusters, understood as maximalist entertainment, was mined and exploited so perfectly by Marvel ten years ago.  It continues to pay dividends, like a goldmine that continues to reveal new tunnels.

What happens next in the next phase of Marvel’s cinematic exploits – and there is surely an endless stream of adventures yet to come – stems from its key insight ten years ago that crafting a fun, shared universe that would satisfy the tastes of the casual moviegoer and hard-core fan alike could be utilitarian through the deployment of recognisable and brand synergy. Marvel movies are essentially serial’s blown up to universe-busting proportions: it’s no accident that Russo brothers, those stalwarts of self-referential television, were chosen to steward the three most ambitious crossover projects in the MCU.

As DC clambers to assemble its own coherent cinematic universe and Universal does whatever they are doing with their Monster Universe (it’s currently on hold, apparently), it’s difficult to quantify impact of Marvel in terms of how it is bringing universe-building into fashion. Where, I think, it is better to view the impact of Marvel (and potentially its legacy too), is in its style – of lack thereof.

It’s not a bad period for blockbusters, insofar as we live in the blockbuster age of Hollywood, where the concerns of marketing and spectacle sit firmly ahead of creativity and originality. That’s not snobbery - it’s the blueprint of big-budget movie production and marketing. It has been the case since the end of the freewheeling New Hollywood era in the mid-seventies.

Compared to the eighties and almost definitely the nineties, the current decade for big-budget fare is not so bad. Films are more accountable to their audiences now and the once elusive word-of-mouth discussions around cinema are elevated to and empowered on public platforms even if this isn’t always  for the better  (in fact it could be credibly argued that the negatives outweigh the positives).

This is reflected in the by-committee approach to development in the big studios that aim to, in equal measure, placate and delight as broad an audience as possible. The hyper-reactive way that movies are received by the public intensifies this: when a studio gets it wrong, it goes really wrong, and everyone involved looks the worse for it. Criticism of big movies can snowball at alarming pace- often before a film comes out - and is traceable by tweets, think-pieces and sustained debate.

 

Most criticism that catches aflame is certainly valid, particularly when concerning social issues such as representation and politics. Responses to these issues, and the vivacity in which they are delivered, has confronted studios directly with the concerns of real people in a way that is long overdue.

 

But there is a second dimension of this climate: that of the disgruntled fan. A consequence from this strand of moviegoing culture - which lavishes in the minutiae of plot detail, and is often tribal in their support of tentpoles - is that big studios have a minefield to navigate when deciding where to put the money. Factor into this the average moviegoer, who doesn’t care for forums and fandom, as well as the omen of Netflix and on-demand content, and you have the multiplex in 2018.

The popular complaint out of all of this is that Hollywood is risk-averse, almost to the point of paralysis, with big studios ploughing cash into movie ‘experiences’ that explode loud enough to wrest the attention of the masses.

In this terrain then, Marvel excels (even with the odd scuffle intact). With Marvel, I’m oddly reminded of an interview with techno DJ Adam Beyer about his approach to playing. Beyer, one of the biggest names in techno today, said he aims to provide maximum satisfaction to his audience by in essence playing what they expect from him and his brand. People pay good money to see him, and it is his prerogative to deliver on those expectations. While other DJ’s will look to challenge and surprise the dance floors they play, Beyer lives up to his billing in the most literal. In this functionalist sense, Marvel thrives.

By establishing its own universe it sets the parameters of every film within it, not just in scope but style too. We know, by-and-large what to expect from a Marvel movie. The core sensibilities remain intact, the self-referential, taking itself not-so-seriously, plot arcs and so on.  Differences between Marvel movies are permutations, not variations - even if the results of these can occasionally lead to great results. There’s a reason I, the card carrying comic book fan, can love the movie as much as the casual moviegoer – these movies deliver a reliable brand of utilitarian, wholesome fun.

No Marvel movie has a Rotten Tomato score below a respectable 66 per cent (no, it’s not Iron Man 2), but neither has one been hailed as an outright masterpiece either. I’d contend that there isn’t a single entry in the Marvel cannon worthy of that hallowed label, and (hopefully I’m wrong here) l suspect there’s probably not going to be one in the future. To look at things like this is to miss the trick, however: Marvel isn’t aiming to push the medium forward and strive for artistic greatness in this way. As Scott notes in his review, Marvel’s more inventive movies like Black Panther and Thor: Ragnarok are ‘carefully planned exceptions that uphold a rule (meaning a regime as well as a norm) of passive acceptance disguised as enthusiasm’.  

Retaining its distinctive familiarity, whilst being just different enough to be considered single entities, each movie is absorbed into the Marvel machine. This is safe, sanitised, cinema, where the punches don’t hurt, the colours wash out and the tone is reassuringly similar (that the ending of infinity war was so jarringly dark was made all the more powerful because of this). The cinematic equivalent of putting on warm blanket in a rainy day, Marvel movies perform their function so damn well it’s almost annoying.

Any individuality in these movies is subsumed under the logic of the Marvel universe, making the MCU the logical end to the by-committee approach to blockbusters. The MCU is so democratically crafted that it leaves its films them devoid of personality, particularly that of its creative core.  Yes, the wisecracking in the Avengers had a Whedon flavour to it, and Thor Ragnarok’s goofy humour bore the signature of director Taiki Waititi, but these are small flourishes that dissolve into the larger project each instalment is geared towards. The structure, style and the worldview are coherent across the board - same game, different players.  

The best way of discerning the aesthetic (or lack of) of the MCU is to look at superhero movies outside the cannon. Sam Raimi’s Spider-man was bubbling with pulpiness; Bryan Singer’s X2 was potent and grimy. Christopher Nolan, a Christ-like figure among fans, legitimised comic book cinema as serious art by subverting the mysticism around the entire genre. This amount of creative license can’t compare to the handful of quips and flourishes in the MCU that vaguely resemble shards of a director’s previous work.

And this is fine. Rather than attempting to ape the features of its biggest successes (a la Nolan and DC), Marvel build on what works whilst nudging audiences with new challenges for its hero’s to face. However it is Kevin Fiege and the big bods at Disney, not directors that define the ship’s direction.

The success of the MCU is already having its effect, as studios move towards jacking-up their existing franchises, exchanging risk for familiarity. In an attempt to sketch out a similar one-size –fits-all structure for their tentpole movies, studios are increasingly playing it safe. Who can blame them?  Marvel has hit on an incredibly successful formula– albeit at the altar of creativity – and at a time where the multiplex perceives itself to be under threat, what’s wrong with sticking to a winning script? Marvel represents the prime meridian of the blockbuster in 2018, and it looks like it’s here to stay for a while.

The Thing Written Review: They're not Swedish Mac, They're Norwegian

Credit: Universal Pictures

By Cameron Smith

The Thing is one of those films proving that only time will tell how successful and, more importantly, memorable a film is. The Thing has gone from a film that most critics despised, due to the stigma that many critics had against horror at the time, to one of the most revered horror films of all time.

The reason behind this is how the film is set up. It's setting -  a research base in Antartica - lends itself to the isolation that the characters feel, and increases the suspicion they have of one another, and for who the Thing is (or not). The Thing itself works as a movie monster. Not only in the gore factor, with now classic scenes such as the defibrillator and the dog scenes. But also in how it can subtly infect hosts without them or anyone else knowing. Fear of viruses and similar hostile organisms is something that works to great effect because of the fear that there is no real way of fighting back against it: once you're infected, that's it. A common fear in the 80s with the height of the AIDs epidemic years later. Still, to this day there are theories on who was a turned into a Thing at which point.

The cast does a marvelous job for the most part, though some are left in the background, which granted does help when it comes to figuring who is a Thing. Though in fairness everyone does get a moment, just some characters get a more memorable moment than others. Like Kurt Russell's Mac, who gives a very believable performance showing off not only a snarky sarcastic character but one who is scared of the situation, he is in. Wilford Brimley as Dr. Blair gives a memorable performance, as the man's mental health deteriorates after the realisation of what the thing is and what its true goal was; and Donald Moffat does deliver a personal favorite line about not wanting to be tied to a couch all winter. Something that the film could have more of is character interactions, particularly before the Thing arrived, showing off the groups friendships and how they have changed with the fear of who is who. It may have made some scenes more impactful, and helped with the fear factor some more.

Cinematography wise this is a brilliantly shot film. Wide and establishing shots helps to show the true isolation of the situation. Closed shots help to draw us into characters immediate situation and the danger of it. And a few one-shots help to keep the tension flowing.

And of course, John Carpenters score helps greatly. The slow, constant beat mixes well with the film and further reinforces the atmosphere and feeling of isolation.  

All in all, this is a masterfully crafted film, and among one of the best horrors made. Despite some slow build up and missed opportunities with some characters, it more than makes up for that by how it creates an atmosphere of fear and mistrust and keeps it going throughout the remainder of the film. And an ending that will leave you with many questions on your lips

Halloween: The Evil is Gone, But Not Forgotten

Credit: Compass International Pictures 

By Cameron Smith

Subtlety is something that is arguably missing from most modern day horror, and in cinema in general. It is an element that perhaps few people, in this age of constant consumption of information, appreciate. In that case, they need to see Halloween and see how sometimes what isn't obvious is sometimes what's most frightening. The film centres around a group of teens, particularly Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis), during the night of Halloween. This time however they are stalked and killed by Michael Myers who has returned to his hometown Haddonfield after escaping a mental insitute. 

Halloween has a perfect use of cinematography, relying more on objects and people coming in and out of the shot then cutting. A good example is when Laurie  and Anne (Nancy Castle) are walking down the street and in the background you can see the car that Michael Myers drove in. This being shortly after Anne heckled Myers for his driving. Its sets the tension and keeps it there. 

The film cuts only when it is necessary, to establish a certain place or point of view. When, amidst the horror, the camera is fixed on the subjects on screen and doesn't cut away, the feeling of dread the viewer feels is increased, as they know something is about to happen but don't know when and so they're genuinely frightened when it does. 

The music and sound are also fantastic in this film. From the heavy ominous breathing of Myers or the iconic score, it all helps to compliment the cinematography and the feeling of fear that builds up.

One element of the film that is lacking is the acting. Most of the cast give very poor performances that either feel dry or cause some unintentional humor. This criticism is mainly restricted to the supporting cast, however, as the main characters can hold their own. Jamie Lee Curtis does an okay job as protagonist Laurie Strode, yet her delivery is a bit forced and dry at points. In scenes when it counts, however, such as when she is being attacked by Myers, she does shine through. Her relationships with other characters also come across well, and the chemistry between her and the two child actors, Kyle Richards and Brian Andrews, who play Lindsey and Tommy respectively is good. 

Donald Pleasence gives the best performance as Dr. Loomis. His character's fear of Myers and the dialogue he uses to describe him is very effective at making Myers out to be an inhuman being. Tony Moran who played Myers does a very effective job with what the role gives him, which is to be scary and imposing. 

Halloween may not be suited to modern tastes but it is a classic of Horror cinema. Carpenter's use of camera and sound is combined as effectively as it is in his later films such as The Thing, which the original 1951 version was shown on the television during this film which was a nice bit of foreshadowing for Carpenters future projects. And much like The Thing, Halloween will remain under your skin for quite some time.

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom Written Review:-Needed more time in the incubator

Credit: Universal Pictures

The previous Jurassic World film took the world by storm. Making box office history with an international openning weekend box office intake of $500 million. Smashing the box office intake of Marvels Age of Ultron. And whilst The Force Awakens knocked it off its perch later that year, it was an undeniable truth. A film with dinsoaurs and not superheros can make money. And the film itself was an enjoyable experience, a crowd pleaser. No masterpiece like the first but for what the film was, a fun ride with dinosaurs stomping, biting, killing and fighting, it accomplished what it set out to do.

Fallen Kingdom on the otherhand does not achieve the same level of entertainment. The film firstly seems to lack focus. Unlike Jurassic Park and Jurassic World where the focus was on the dinosaurs (or dinosaur in JW case) escaping and wrecking. This film tries to have twists and turns, which would have been fine if they were not seen from a mile away. The story starts two years after Jurassic Worlds disaster. A volcano is about to erupt and wipe out the dinosaurs a second time. And now Clair Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) and Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) are saving the dinosaurs. The issues wth the story arise when it tries to be complex and in the end just ends up just being baffeling and ridiculous. As for the characters they are still two deminensional. The difference here is that in Jurassic World, they were still entertaining, they never did anything that made you seriously question thier motives. Chriss Pratt had cool moments with the dinosaurs and Bryce Dallas Howard had a nice arc from a women who cares about the job and money to caring about the animals and people. It was a simple, cliche but still affective and touching story. Sadly that is not the case in this film. Both ators felt very dry and worse still had no chemisty. As for the new characters. Well the comic relief in the form of Justice Smiths Frank Webb (hes good with computers, geddit?) was not as annoying as he could have been but still the comedy felt oddly timed and delivered poorly. As for Daniella Pineda who plays paleo-vetrenarian Dr Zia Rodriguez, she was fine but her character was incredible obnoxious. They tried to paint her as a go getter but she acted more like an angry activist who thinks shouting is the key to getting what you want. A very obtrusive character to watch. As for the other characters they range from ok to baffling. Toby Jones and Rafe Spall who play Gunnar Eversoll and Eli Miles respectively are such characters. They start off fine then descend into lunacy near the end. Jame Cromwell felt underused as Benjamin Lockwood as if Jeff Goldblum who reprises his role as Ian Malcom. The child actress Isabella Sermon who plays Maisie, the obligatory child in every Jurassic Film, is ok, if a bit dry in the acting catagory but there have been worse child actors. Though her character does have an arc that is one of the afformentioned ridiculous moments. And Ken Wheatly as Ted Levine, the Robert Muldoon or Roland Tembo of this fim. Sadly without the memorable dialogue or perfromance of those characters. Though admittedly he has a very creepy and effective scene with the new hybrid, the Indoraptor. Even if it was brought about by stupidity and lazy writting.

That leads nicely into the good about this film, the dinosuars. This film contains some of the best dinsosaur scenes in any Jurassic films. From a truely fantastic opening involving two of Jurassic Worlds biggest dino-stars. To the inclusion of new dinosaurs such as Allosaurus, Carnotorous, Seinoceratops, Stygimolock and british dino Baryonx (finally a dinosaur not from the Americas of Asia). Which is something Jurassic franchise has always been good at introducing ether dinsouars that are unheard of or dinosaurs that haven't had they're big screen apperance. And the new hybrid The Indoraptor, whilst lacks the presence of the Indominous of the previous film, is still an eery and honestly terryfying addition. As for the films visuals, its a very aesthetically pleasing fim. The use of cinmatograhy and lighting to convey the size and scale of the dinosaurs. From tgetting the scope in the scene of the dinosaurs stampeding to the claustrophoic feeling when the indoraptor is let loose.

This film is very difficult to review. On the one hand it has some of the best cinematography and dinosaur scenes, including a truley heartbreaking one with a series staple, of the entire series yet also the worse characterisation and story the series has scene. Despite a truly epic opening the film just cannot kee the feeling of truimphant joy and fear of previous Jurassic films. (Excluding Jurassic Park 3)            

Oscars so Low: Why Have the Ratings Slipped this Far?

It turns out that the results of this year’s academy awards weren’t the only thing that underwhelmed.  Ratings for the hit an all-time low, slumping almost 20 per cent on last year’s total. Sunday’s ceremony drew in 26.5 million viewers compared to figures of 43.7 million from just four years ago, a trend the Academy can surely not sustain for much longer.

Fears of declining viewership have been on the minds of the show's producers for some time. After last year's disappointing turnout, a few adjustments were made.

But changing the start time of the ceremony from 8.30 to 8 obviously didn’t help, and senior ABC executives saying that the ceremony was aimed at being more “planned than spur of themoment” have proven equally useless.

That these figures are worse than the previous low of 2008, when the organisation of the show was hindered by the Writers Guild of America strike is a worrying. Even the old adage that the movies draw the viewers has also refused to hold firm this year: The Shape of Water is the highest grossing film to win best picture since Argo in 2013.

So, what went wrong? The floating theories are as political as they are analytical. Whilst I’m sure the producers are forensically studying Piers Morgan’s 10-point plan to save the Oscars (Point 3: “For the love of God, can you all shut up about Meryl Streep”), there will also be some genuine head scratching going on in academy towers: How does it regain this lost ground? 

Live TV running out of life?

Of the media narratives about what happened and where to next after this years disappointment, one of the main defences to emerge from the post mortem  is that ratings for live shows and live awards shows in particular have nosedived over the last year.

This is the reason that most producers will want to believe, simply because it allows them to deflect blame from themselves onto a broader television trend.

The Screen Actors Guild dropped by 30 per cent, the Grammy’s fell by a quarter and even the Super Bowl saw a 7 per cent tail off- a seven year low. More viewers are choosing to watch content differently, a fixture of contemporary viewing habits that aren’t accurately captured by TV ratings. 

Social media and streaming in particular account for a vast proportion of views as people skip the shows themselves to jump to the highlights the morning after: Nielsen ratings don’t paint the full picture of engagement as much as they used to because people don’t consume content the way they used to.

“The top scripted network series gets a mere fraction of what the number-one show got 10 or 15 years ago. It's a niche world,” says Vulture writer Mark Harris.” Things, as Tony Soprano once said, are trending downward.”

 The public has always lamented how the show is too long, boring and contains movies that are unpalatable to a broader audience. It’s definitely not the first time that people have called the ceremony “too political”, either.

This reasoning is a little too convenient, however.

Yes, we’ve changed our viewing habits and sure, many of the complaints levelled against the awards are not new, but a 20 per cent decline from last year still leaves a sizeable explanatory gap. The precedence of streaming and social media has been the case for at least five years. 

Even if 45 per cent of us watch over an hour of video online every day, the academy didn’t just get its own YouTube channel. Yes, this sort of viewership is indeed declining, but why has the Oscar’s been the first to sink to its all-time low?

Setting the world a-trite

The presence of politics at the Oscars was best summed up by Network screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky, who said he was “sick and tired of people exploiting the occasion of the Academy Awards for the propagation of their own personal political propaganda”  at the ceremony back in 1973.

Whilst Chayefsky might in his own way been making a political statement against political statements, his sentiment has continued to hold firm among much of the broader public.

Liberal Hollywood taking aim at conservative America is part and parcel of the awards, but in the era of Trump the aim has intensified. That’s not to mention the demons plaguing Hollywood itself that the awards were bound to confront.

It would still be difficult to argue that the public attention has worn thin because of this renewed focus. It didn’t happen with climate change; neither did it happen with Oscar’s so white.

Trump was only mentioned four times during the entire show, and the only “highlight” political moment to make the mainstream narrative came from Frances McDormand’s rousing acceptance speech when collecting her Best Actress award.

The press has, as it always does, stuck to party lines. Nothing really changed.  The real problem might just have been that the show itself was just really boring.

The difficulty of picking a highlight from the show outside of the McDormand speech (and the Maya Rudolph/ Tiffany Haddish skit) highlights the problem with this year’s Oscars. Every safe bet paid off, nothing really felt fresh- even in this year’s exceptionally strong pool there wasn’t a genuine surprise.

When things become predictable, they at least need to be memorable.

I won’t rant about the show itself- that can be left to the twitterati and internet. The ceremony was best summed by Washington Post TVcritic Hank Stuever: “In his second year, Kimmel has shown that the telecast needn’t be anything but sharp and sure, with a funny host whose bits are manageable, shareable and — best of all — forgotten,” Stuever writes.

” We’re not making showbiz history here; we’re just trying to get through another Oscar night.”

The Awards' Season: a Fan's Ramble

The awards season to me is at first exciting, and by the end exhausting. Its relentless plugging of talent and puffing of egos wears off at about this point of the festivities. To the outsider film fan looking in, the circus still remains a grandiose exercise in self-congratulation; even if this year (perhaps more than any other) is one when Hollywood should be at its most reflective.

In between the black dress and pin badges, however, behind the endless press and pomp (I mean, what publication hasn’t mentioned Greta Gerwig in the last week?), this year’s class is actually damn strong.

The release (and subsequent press) delay in the US/UK release gap often forgoes this fact. A regular reader of the movie pages will feel as though they have made up their mind on a film before it even hits screens.

Take Lady Bird, which has just hit the UK on a wide release. Premiering last September at Telluride to rave reviews, then going to New York to attract yet more buzz; hype hit its ‘highest ever Rotten Tomatoes score’  fever pitch by the time of its November opening in the US. This momentum carries through aaaall the way to the Dolby theatre.

This filtration process of the awards season is an odd one for us fans. It starts at the festivals and often ends in the cinema, when we can confidently take our opinions to the awards show.

We all play our part by participating, debating and discussing films like racehorses, having a gander on what films might have a chance of winning the trophies.

It’s the former that I resent but all too willingly participate in. As a sports fan that understands the appeal of speculation, it’s not difficult to get drawn into hamming out ill-informed opinions lifted from the actual people in the know.

Unless you’re willing to put money to them, sporting predictions are (mostly) pointless, but I’m more than happy to shoot the crap, even if there’s the underlying feeling that we’re all pawns in the awards season game.

After all, we’re the ones that buy the tickets from a media elite that get them at the glitzy festivals that we all pore over.

This might amount to something of an outsider status to this moviegoer, but it makes the hit all the more resounding when you finally get to the cinema and watch a film that blows you away.

All of a sudden everything else doesn’t seem to matter. 

You leave the cinema, affirmed that your fandom isn’t ungrounded after all.

I suppose that’s how I pick favourites during the Oscar season: whatever film papered over my anxieties the best, that makes me the happiest to be a movie nut and to participate in this award circus.

In sense, the season might be curative, it presents and champions movies to encourage and foster creativity. It rewards those that push boundaries: remaining within the bounds of being palatable to a mainstream audience, but adventurous enough to move things forward. 

It's either that, or its just a glorified sales show... I think I know which I'd prefer to believe.