A Plea

Over the past few years I have developed an overarching disdain toward all sequels and remakes. In the wakes of recent remakes of not so distant classics such as Arthur (which I grew up on) and Footloose, I refuse to relinquish even the $2.50 to rent them from Family Video. It astounds me that an industry as prominent as the film industry is falling prey to mindless reproduction of a former financial success rather than using that success to propel more creative masterpieces. It’s even worse when it comes to sequels. After the first Shrek I had high hopes for the second, thinking that a development in such a great story couldn’t possibly be bad. To be honest, the second one wasn’t dreadful (but let’s just say I saw it once and haven’t even thought of it again until writing this article), but a third and a Christmas special? At this point they’re just continually watering down something that would have stood best on its own. Sequels, often made with different writers and directors, often try to duplicate the plot of the original with little to no substantive development (did someone say The Hangover?). But really, the second of the now trilogy of Hangover movies utilizes a pretty much identical plot of the first. I’m a little shocked that viewers haven’t lowered their expectations for these sequels. The Hangover Part II earned $31.7 million on their opening day (source: http://www.hollywood.com). I know the first was hilarious, but I had extremely low expectations for the second (which turned out to be accurate) and it’s surprising that I was one of the few who felt that way. But, I digress. Unfortunately, sequels seem to be a trend that we’re not getting rid of any time soon. If that’s the case, you better believe I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the upcoming 300: Rise of An Empire.

As if sequels aren’t bad enough, filmmakers are actually remaking movies that were made only 30 years ago or often less. To my horror, I recently came across  an article that hinted at the possibility of an upcoming remake of one of my favorite films, Thelma and Louise. Not only am I confident that no one could possibly handle those roles better than Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon, but I’m even more outraged by the notable lack of creativity and substance in the film industry right now. Thelma and Louise was made in 1991, only three years before I was born. WAY too soon to be remaking a movie of that caliber. Of course, there are many notable exceptions, such as Les Miserables and Romeo and Juliet, which have been successfully remade, but as far as films in the pop culture vein, writers seem to be running out of ideas. Everything is, of course, based off of something. We see this in art all the time. Manet’s Olympia draws from classicist Titian’s Venus of Urbino, but he does something completely different with it. He adds his own to the classic female nude, and thus elicits an entirely different response. Directly replicating something seems entirely without purpose. Are we so dry on creativity that we can’t take the message and production quality of Thelma and Louise and build on it? Its strengths should encourage more films like it, not duplication.

I believe that this urge to reproduce stems from two things: 1) money (since the implications of this are obvious, I’ll refrain from addressing them) and 2) a noticeable lack of complex characters, effective action sequences, and appeal to the audience’s intelligence. Of course, there are always exceptions, but overall we’re seeing films that choose one element and sacrifice the rest. Superhero and action movies so often sacrifice plot for exactly what their genre promises: pure action. Who cares what happens in Transformers? That’s not what they’re about. The plot and characters are merely there to support the incredible chase and scenes and special effects. Why can’t we have both plot and action? As I increase my film repertoire, it’s dawned on me that the further back in time I go, the more depth I find packed into a 2 hour film. And it’s the same with my formerly stated qualms with the three hour long Wolf of Wall Street. It’s as though filmmakers think that they need to sacrifice crucial elements of a good film to pack in everything. As filmmakers strive to put meaning in films, they become infatuated with symbolism and subtlety, which often results in the message sliding completely under the radar. In Thelma and Louise, they aren’t trying to hide anything, the meaning isn’t packed away into obscure symbolism, but rather used to invite the intelligent viewer to think critically about the real complexities of life and individuals that pervade our everyday experience.

So, I conclude with a plea for less flash and more substance in pop culture films. To quote Louise herself: “You get what you settle for.”