Recently, on an internet message board I frequent, I got into a debate with someone over the film 300. I sank to a new level of pretentiousness by engaging in a debate over a film I haven’t even seen yet - but it is the internet, and therefore such requirements are not… requirements.
To be honest, the debate wasn’t so much about the content of the film, rather about critiquing the film and film in general. For those who don’t know, 300 is a remake inspired by Frank Miller’s graphic novel of the same name - also based on the 1960’s film called The 300 Spartans about a historical battle between the Spartans and the Persians. 300 grossed $70 million it’s opening weekend, and has grossed $179,941,919 since it opened. The folks on this particular message board were raving about the film without providing any justification beyond “I enjoyed it,” and those who had the audacity to critique the film were chastised for not “appreciating a good time.” Being a (former) artist, I made the silly argument that simply because a movie does well at the box office and that people, generally speaking, like it - that does not necessarily mean it is a good movie. I also made the mistake of quoting people smarter than myself, such as L.A. Times film critic Carina Chocano.
Someday, maybe, the “entertainment defense” will no longer hold water. But for now, we’re slogging through the era of the completely implausible denial. Like many films that seem to riff on everything without stooping to make a point (which would be just so hopelessly earnest and dorky), “300″ proudly claims to be about nothing. Or rather, like another type of purchased pleasure, it claims to be about anything you want it to be. As long as a movie is dumb and violent enough, it can quote whatever cultural allusion is handy, then deny that it did with impunity.
The interesting question is how “entertainment” has come to be accepted as a valid, irreducible argument against interpretation; how, in a broader sense, the act of putting things in context has come to be seen as inherently suspect. Whether it’s the attorney general claiming lack of clarity on the firings of U.S. attorneys, or a Lionsgate executive admitting mistakes were made regarding the torture billboards for “Captivity” pasted all over town, it seems that no connection is too clear, no cause and effect too obvious for shocked denial and feigned surprise not to be a viable option.
Brilliantly stated, and largely why I think why most recent films tend to - put bluntly - suck.
I’m talking about this to get to another point. Recently, I watched This Film Is Not Yet Rated (2006), a documentary by Kirby Dick on the MPAA’s Classification and Rating Administration, and how they operate in virtual secrecy while retaining almost complete control over how a movie is rated. The rating, which the MPAA claims has no impact a films success, can have drastic impacts on how a film is marketed and released. The rating system, therefore, has almost complete control over what movies make it to theaters on a wide scale. Your film gets an NC-17, and you’ll be lucky to break even. If you targeted your film for a PG-13 and get an R, well, you still might be well buggered.
The jist of the film is that this rating board puts ratings on films based on an entirely arbitrary set of standards, with no accountability to anyone, especially a filmmaker. Should a filmmaker wish to appeal, then they find themselves in front of an entirely different “anonymous” board, which, as it turns out, is made up of major players in the film industry - such as CEO of Fox Searchlight Steve Gilula, VP of Sony Pictures John Lodician, numerous theater chain owners and two clergy. The question as to why one film gets an R rating and another film, which contains similar material, gets an NC-17 is an impossible one to answer, as it is apparent that the system is deliberately organized to remove consistency from the ratings given.
Here’s the deal. Films are rated by some arbitrary standards, and films are critiqued by some arbitrary standards. The whole industry has become one big arbitrary mess, all the while raking in billions of dollars on the backs of the very artists who’s films they are controlling, and the very consumer who’s spending choices they are controlling.
The failure of critics to challenge film turns it into nothing more than a product to be consumed, and no level of appreciation need by applied. Film becomes nothing more than deciding between Coke and Pepsi. So what do you do if you happen to think both Coke and Pepsi taste like crap?
Film (and music and television, for that matter) isn’t just supposed to be a product - it is supposed to be an art form that challenges as well as entertains. Not to indulge too much hyperbole, film is supposed to be commentary and reflection of our times. When it only serves to entertain, then it becomes nothing more than something light passes through to create some interesting patterns on a screen - and that is a waste of a medium.