Sci-Fi Now and Then

            It came to my attention upon exiting the theater on 13 August 2009 that this year had fared quite well for mainstream science fiction.  J.J. Abram’s re-imagining of Star Trek started the year off with a bang that resounded for the remainder of the twelvemonth.  Midsummer, Duncan Jones’s Moon was rewarded two viewings and was an understated, underappreciated, and impressive debut feature.  The surreal atmosphere and fantastic-as-usual Clint Mansell score helped the film be the only science fiction entry that gave District 9 a run for its money.  The fact that Neill Blomkamp’s film received Oscar nods was fulfilling at least.  The fourth Terminator film was refreshingly fun even if overdone in a few select parts.  There was also Avatar.  Thus 2009 was a pretty well rounded year for science fiction, many of which made a big impression at the box office and award ceremonies (monies- never gets old). 

            It came to my attention more recently, in looking over old movie lists and scanning my library, that 1982 was also a prolific years for good science fiction films.  The second Star Trek saw Kirk and Spock battle Khan.  Computer technology and Jeff Bridges were immortalized in Tron.  Ridley Scott’s Philip K. Dick adaptation in the form of Blade Runner has ceased to

Ever Seen It: Topkapi (1964)

In 1955 Jules Dassin made the definitive caper film Rififi whose fame was further immortalized by a speechless heist where action reigns supreme. Eleven years later, after a slew of comical heist films clearly inspired by Dassin’s, he returned with a comedy of his own and succeeded in outdoing the competition. His 1964 film, Topkapi, is based on a novel by Eric Ambler and sets its sights on an emerald encrusted dagger housed behind glass in Istanbul’s impressive Topkapi Museum.

A professional thief amasses a crew of amateurs to help in the production. An acrobat to hover above the pressure sensitive floor, a strong man to hold the rope, and a bumbling fool to drive the car across the Turkish border. Naturally, the plan unfolds with both major and minor glitches yet the suspense depends as much on these as it does the heist itself. Dassin infuses small points with humor and sighs of relief, saving the biggest for an age-old idiom.

The caper film has only become more popular with the recent slew of films and remakes in the past decade. There exists an inherent suspense in a ragtag group of criminals defying the law and the audience cheering them on. The heist film also appears to be one of the most firmly structured genre films with its archetypical structure falling into three parts; planning, execution, and aftermath. The greatest fun can come from any of the three and the complexities of the inner workings have become spectacle themselves.

Do Genres Make Us Lazy?

It has been well discussed here how the audience to a genre film approaches it with a set of expectations. As Thomas Sobchack explains it, “the plot is fixed, the characters defined, the ending satisfyingly predictable.” I have questioned the spectator’s reasons for choosing a genre film over another that does not fit a particular model. And while I will certainly not complain about the genre film’s status, that does not prevent me from questioning its ethics.

Film is most certainly a form of entertainment. It is also a thought-provoking and socially relevant mode of communication. Thus choosing to watch a genre film can be seen as a choice that one makes with the assumption that it has the highest possibility of yielding a positive result. This is precisely why they are made. So producing a genre film could potentially be seen as a plight of laziness on behalf of the filmmakers. Potentially, not always. That is not my concern at the present time. Rather, I approach the topic from the audience standpoint.

“It is that which we expect in a genre film and that which we get,” states Sobchack. So in decidedly picking a genre film we lend no creativity to our conjectures of the final product. Does this mean we are lazy in our decision? My aim here is not the world at large but rather our current American society that is already plagued with clear and unapologetic displays of laziness. It only makes sense, for the modern general public, that such laziness would manifest itself in the forms of media it chooses to ingest.

The claim could be made that it is the industry’s fault for continuing to make formulaic pictures. It is strictly a chicken and egg debate at this point. However, it is only going to change when the studios feel that money can be gained by making something original. Here comes the problem. We are not a society that is particularly fond of immediate change and it is usually much easier to take what is convenient. So it seems that my initial question could be reversed. Does laziness make genres?

Stating it like such makes it sound a little absurd. There are numerous factors not being taken into account and today’s society is nowhere near a mirror image of society during the birth of film and film genre. Regardless, the film genre remains an important mode of discourse for affirming our ideological stances and broadcasting them to the masses. Thus we continually demand that which we want to see and that which with we agree. I am not suggesting that genres are the only way in which the ideology is perpetuated, but it is the most cinematically available.

So we can return to the original question, this time ignoring any other factor and focusing entirely on choosing between a genre film and any other film. Sure, there is a degree of laziness in picking something that will do versus something that could be more challenging. Thus the genre film and film genre are more than industrially relevant products but are clearly socially relevant, as reflected in their existence.

The Fourth Kind

Olatunde Osunsanmi’s The Fourth Kind was marketed with the archival footage validity that suggested its truth superior to that of Blair Witch or others of the sort. Finding itself released shortly after Paranormal Activity may not have been detrimental to its not too dissimilar delivery. And where the much over hyped subjective footage fest becomes a dull bore , Osunsamni’s film only fares slightly better.

The immediate reaction to the conclusion of this film, or rather in its midst, is one of feeling cheated. The supposedly real archival footage of psychologist Abigail Tyler comes off as a cheap attempt at purported actuality. As it happens, she looks too much like an alien to pass as someone supposedly abducted by one. The lighting is so blatantly ambient and practical that it becomes an oversaturated but dull contrast to the rest of the film. The diegetic narrative is saturated with yellows and blue and makes the mistake of introducing its characters by naming the actors that portray them. A quick search of the film reveals that none of the supposed footage is real, nor was it even filmed in Nome, Alaska, nor did the psychologist actually exist.

For a film named as it is, clearly referring to alien activity, the beings themselves are notably absent save for a few shadows and noisy audio. To call this a science fiction film almost mislabels it. With a few major events to the contrary, one could almost read this film as entirely psychological, the events pertaining to nothing more than the mind and its creations.

Borrowing or Stealing

There exists a curious dynamic within the film genres as explicated by the genre films that they bear. Leo Braudy notices the side that seems to assault our notions of what art should be.

“Genre films offend our most common definition of artistic excellence: the uniqueness of the art object, whose value can in part be defined by its desire to be uncaused and unfamiliar, as much as possible unindebted to any tradition, popular or otherwise.”

Genre films, by their very nature, will contain the stereotypes, expectations, and allusions that define their being. Thus the genre film is a part of a whole, a single entity that cannot exist alone without the context of the similar films and themes that surround it. Thus it is necessary for it to be called a genre film for it to exhibit characteristics of such a film.

At the same time, as has been stated before; the film cannot simply replicate down to the detail everything that has already been done. This would, without a doubt, offend much more than our common definition of artistic intelligence. While they may still find something worthy in it, as can be done with anything, as a whole it would not be accepted. Thus the genre film must strike the particular balance between new and old. It must insert enough of the past to be recognizable while introducing enough of the present to be relevant. “Within film the pleasures of originality and the pleasures of familiarity are at least equally important.”

We might also wish to look at the timing of any particular film as a part of the genre as a whole. Say film x came out with components a, b, c, d, and e. (a, b, c will be generic conventions) Let’s say film y came out with a, b, d, f, g. Film z has c, g, h, and i. If we can allow this simple formula to stand for our films we can see that x and z bear little resemblance to one another. The fact that they came out years apart means that the particular aspects of the genre had changed and the films in between imagined new concepts.

With this vastly simplified example, the malleability of genre becomes evident. Filmmakers have the choice to adhere strictly to the conventions that define the genre or to liberate themselves freely from what has been done. It is inevitable, then, that they would arrive at genre mixing and feel compelled to insert the expectations or themes from a separate and distinct genre. Genre theory as a whole has received criticism because of this point; the boundaries and definitions are foggy at best. Where one ends and another begins is hard to define unless each example were to be a strict and formal representation of the genre.

This would be a rare thing; a film that so exactly captures one and only one genre that the boundaries become obvious and can be traced out on a piece of paper. Evidently, film is not anything near a straight black and white line but rather a multi-colored, multi dimensional web the connects, breaks, jumps, dodges, and disappears where ever it sees fit. The fact that there is so much freedom both technically and narratively makes it such a broad and shape shifting thing that trying to pin it down with terms like genre, auteur, etc. is the best we can do.

So when a filmmaker makes a film, particularly a genre film, they hopefully have some understanding of what they are making. As an audience, we then have to decide both what was used and how so. Is the filmmaker simply taking something that already existed and stripping it of a few aspects and claiming it new? Or are they taking something new and inserting things that have already been done? Do these simple abstracts even apply to the nature of film or does the particular film exist somewhere on a spectrum between the two? And at what point does borrowing become stealing and does inspiration become plagiarism?

Genre. Croneneberg.

If one were to examine the most recent films of David Cronenberg, A History of Violence (2005) and Eastern Promises (2007), it would be easy to prematurely conclude that he works solely in the family drama. But unless the population of films from which one is observing is 3, then 2 samples doesn't manage a very representative examination.

While the concept of family has indeed pervaded his work form the beginning, it has only been in the most recent millennium that Cronenberg films have narrowed focus and arrived precisely at this category. Early in his career, the director was most fascinated with assaults on the body, and from within the body, found most readily available in the horror genre. Thus his filmmaking career came to prominence as scientific experimentation goes wrong and the effects cannot but help detriment society. Yet within these relatively straight horror films the family would still play an important role.

As the 80’s transitioned in, Cronenberg’s film incorporated additional science fiction elements that had been hinted at in the previous decade. The director assaulted his characters by using their own bodies against them. His work continued through the next decade, described more accurately by his adaptations of other’s works with his own brand stamped on.

Thus the oeuvre has incorporated numerous genres, at times mixing, at times sampling. Of more interest here, aside from what particular genres the director navigated, is the effect that such navigation has on his career. Long established as one of the foremost cult film directors, in the new millennium, he finally admits to being able to ‘sell out.’ And Cronenberg is not the only director to have started out in horror, made a name for himself, and moved more mainstream. However, his career can still be defined largely by the horror elements, specifically his commanding hold on body horror.

It would now be relevant to examine how the concept of auteur is related to the idea of genre. As is evident, the range of Cronenbergian films remain distinguishable despite exploration of numerous genres. While other directors have been firmly cemented into a particular genre and identified with such, Cronenberg has managed to stray. It is still most relevant to describe him as a horror director, at least for a little while longer until his body of work more populated with films the reject the horror completely. (If it is possible for him to ever reject it completely)

It would also be relevant to include the production sensibility behind sticking to a genre. With success of a particular film it make sense for producers to place the director at the helm of a film that deals with similar themes since he has proved himself able to tackle them in an understandable and available way. This is not to say that such a pattern can be altered. It can indeed, as the director gains credibility, he also gains freedom.

I think it goes without saying that genre is an important component of the filmmaking practice both from an industry standpoint and a personal standpoint. It allows both an audience to demand work and a filmmaker to deliver it.

Test Screening

It is not an uncommon occurrence for films to be screened prior to release. The objective is to gauge an audience’s reaction and alter the film so that more people will like it. So what does this mean? It means that the ‘art’ is being changed so that it is more widely accepted. Now it goes without saying, even though I have said it plenty, that the film industry is undoubtedly (and no one is pretended otherwise) a business. And yes, it makes good business sense to get as large a demographic as possible to make the most money as possible.

On the one hand this is good. It proves the best chances of a particular film being successful and thus the best chances of other films getting made. It ensures the continued success of the industry. Like the Oscar ceremonies (the word monies conveniently hidden within), they keep attention and interest in a product that survives on getting attention. Test screenings are a way for a filmmaker to know how the audience feels about the work; how it might be made better (read: more broadly accepted) and what they did not like (read: what will not make the final cut). Thus it provides areas in which the people involved might wish to make changes.

So on the other hand, it means that the production company is simply giving the audience what it wants. From an artistic standpoint, then, this sounds the alarm. Art, in and of itself, should not conform to the desires of those who look at it. If anything, art has always stood to challenge its viewer, to make them see things in a new way, to look outside the normal parameters in which their gaze is limited. But as we can be assured, the most challenging movies are usually the ones that a.) do well only because of the controversy involved in their reception, or b.) fail to find and audience and fade into filmic obscurity.

So we may wish to find a balance. But we should also take into account the nature of film. Unlike any other art form, film encompasses numerous areas of creativity and is truly the most complicated collaborative art. Cinematographers and actors and production designers and wardrobers and make-up artists all compile their skill and vision into a (hopefully) cohesive and complimentary work. Further, the temporal aspect of film means that small, short lasting aspects represent a smaller percent of the larger whole. Thus a little trim here and a deletion here do not affect the final product as much as it does with other media.

This in mind, the notion of a test screening comes into a bit more acceptable light. All the work that has gone into the film is still there, some obvious, some subtle. The only way to take it all away is to abandon the film entirely. It is now a question of intent. Is a creative choice made because it fits and benefits the piece as a whole or because it makes money. And is the money enough of a benefit to warrant it? And for those not convinced, is it ever warranted to alter a work, an artist’s vision, to make it more popular?

Keep in mind that all this refers to film with enough money in the first place to afford test screenings. We are mainly talking big films that already challenge the viewer to lend the term ‘art’ to their description. This does not mean the topic is irrelevant however. It is simply the context in which the discussion takes place.

Generic Sensibility

There is something inherently comfortable about seeing a straight genre film. The fact that we are more comfortable and accepting of things we are familiar with may have something to do with it. The genre film does not come alone. The package includes the very distinctions that make it a genre film in the first place. Here, we have expectations as to what we see on screen, how the story will play out, possibly lines of dialogue or at least topics and themes that will play out in the narrative. It is true that seeing a genre film, that is the act of watching a film whose content we know before seeing it, tends not to be a challenging experience. I am not referring to the content of the story, not trying to say that a crime drama is going to be a neat and clean and enjoyable experience. Rather, I am referring to the fact that with a film whose genre is clearly defined we do not have to consider where in the cinematic spectrum of films this particular entry falls. We can devote our attention entirely to the story itself without stepping back and asking ourselves what the movie is about.

I am intentionally generalizing. I won’t suggest that anything is absolute; especially when it comes to film, whose parts can easily intermingle and transform. Yet when a film comes to us, whose parts are clearly defined and easily identified, the experience of watching it is not threatening. We do not have to guess as to its content or struggle in placing it. The next natural thing to do, then, is question the effects this has on the quality of the film itself. In a world so saturated by film, those that are straight reproductions falter the most. Audiences get bored and we want something new, for the most part. But there is also joy of watching a familiar story unfold, one of the reasons we return to the same movie again and again. Thus the pleasure of the genre film rests on a precarious edge.

I suppose it would be possible to watch the same kinds of movies forever and ever, but I would have to get tiresome. Such a practice, when chosen, would have had to been with maximum enjoyment in mind. And as sequels, remakes, reboots, and genre films themselves prove, people do indeed like familiarity. Thus we are proving the genre film to be a comfortable place from which to watch the world, even if it is an entirely cinematic world. Does this then mean that the straight genre film, one that does not mix numerous genres together, is a close-minded decision on the part of the film viewer? Are we choosing not to challenge ourselves to different modes of discourse and topics of conversation?

I would like to think not. I will instead assume that the genre film is but one of many entries into any filmgoers participation log. For anyone who watches films with regularity, it is obviously an enjoyable experience. Thus approaching a film with particular and certain expectations in mind is also done with a sense of purpose. With so many films out there to experience, genres may make the selection process a bit more manageable.

Tron Legacy Set Visit: Part 1 - ComingSoon.net

Tron Legacy Set Visit: Part 1 - ComingSoon.net

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Tron: Legacy is also well under way, looking at a December release. It sees the return of Jeff Bridges, and all the wonderful things given us with Tron. Take a look at this in-depth article from Comingsoon.net.

Update: Upcoming Feature: Robert Rodriguez's Predators

     If you've never taken the time to watch John McTiernan's (Die Hard, The Hunt for Red October) 1987 classic Predator, starring our Californian governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, then you might be interested in giving it a chance. Recently, the Predator concept (which had a sequel in 1990, starring Danny Glover) has blossomed into a full-blown franchise, mingling with the Alien franchise to satisfy the ever-hungry pit of Hollywood remakes and sequels. Alien vs. Predator, which came out in 2004, earned $172 million worldwide, plenty more than its predecessor (which earned $98 million worldwide back in 1988) if you don't adjust for inflation. Unfortunately, both Predator 2 and AVP 2: Requiem (2007) did much more poorly than their predecessors, earning $57 million and $130 million respectively.

     In my opinion, the box office figures do accurately represent the quality of the films. Predator is an amazing film, if a bit slow at times. Alien Vs. Predator is also surprisingly decent, taking the most frightful parts of Alien and mixing them with the thrill of the hunt in Predator. While these two films were well made, their sequels were less interesting. Predator 2 takes the hunt out of the jungle into a major city, where a police officer (Danny Glover) must fight for the city. It really was not that amazing of a movie.

     Likewise, AVP 2: Requiem took the concept of AVP out of its remote icy location and stuck them in a city. Stealing some concepts from the 1999 independent film The Interceptors (also called Predator 3: The Interceptors, even though it's not really a Predator film), placing the aliens and predators in a city that the government has quarantined... it really was not a very well written or well made movie.

     So the sequels weren't as good... big surprise. It's no wonder Hollywood pulled the plug on AVP 3. They did not, however, pull the plug on a new Predator franchise. Robert Rodriguez's Predators, set to release in July 2010, is supposed to "restart the franchise." It's directed by Nimród Antol (Kontroll - 2003 and Armored - 2009) and stars Topher Grace, Adrien Brody, and a Robert Rodriguez favorite Danny Trejo. Principle photography should finish within the year according to Comingsoon.net who recently spoke with Nimród about Predators, in an article you can read here. Be sure to check it out, and check back later for a trailer.




     Robert Rodriguez's revamping of the Predator series is well under way, set to release this summer. They've recently opened a website dedicated to the film, which will have a trailer on March 18th. Take a look!
http://www.predators-movie.com/
     The film is about a group of mercenaries, convicts, and murderers, led by Adrien Brody, are taken to a remote location, which they soon come to realize is an alien world inhabited by the most vicious of murderers: Predator Aliens. They must now fight for their lives and figure out what they were brought there for.