I’m intrigued by my own relationship with the movies. It’s not really a self-indulgent excursion but an attempt to understand how movies have an impact on my life and others. Ironically, they reveal my own character, as movies are meant to do.
It wasn’t until I discovered the importance of story that I saw my TV and movie viewing experience in an entirely different light. Remembering scenes, fragments, sets, actresses, or whatever other component of films is less important to me now than knowing and understanding what a film was about.
Well, I still watch for entertainment. I’ll mindlessly watch a movie or TV show simply because there’s nothing else to do.
There are movies I thought were great and can’t remember a thing about them. I’ll remember aspects of movies but rarely the story. This disturbs me the most because I know how important the story is.
I’m torn as a screenwriter and movie goer. I’m critical of anyone who worships movie stars and can recount favorite scenes but could never in a million years recount a storyline in any kind of synopsis form.
And yet, I’m guilty of the very same crimes.
There are actors I love but can’t stand their movies. There are movies I love but can’t stand the actors. I am exceedingly guilty of watching entire movies with total disregard for anything about that movie with the exception of a starlet who turns me on sexually. I will watch movies solely for sex (as if I, a male living in America, really need to confess this).
This is an old habit that started when I was in my teens. TV was my first introduction to sex and I still have fantasies about Mary and Ginger Ann from Gilligan’s Island, I Dream of Genie and the Catwoman.
So my relationship with Hollywood is very sexual. Well, for me anyway. I’m not sure how Hollywood feels.
There are award winners and blockbusters I can’t stand contrasted with my own small bevy of personal sleepers that no one I’ve met has ever seen. I loved Brazil and Boxing Helena, movies long since buried in the annals of film history.
Many of my favorite actors have names I can never remember. And some of the biggest stars I can’t stand (although I would never tell them if I happened to ever meet them). There are actors I dislike who have made some of my favorite movies. Burt Reynolds made Deliverance and Eddie Murphy made Beverly Hills Cop, but there’s not a single other work by either of these guys I like (but then, I haven’t seen all their movies).
There are some movies that changed my life; changed my entire outlook on life. I’ve watched Godfather and Apocalypse Now dozens of times, so much so, I know the dialog. I keep copies of screenplays, like Silence of the Lambs and Pirates of the Caribbean.
The DaVinci Code movie didn’t change my life, but the book sure did. The DaVinci Code was the first time I ever read a novel before seeing the movie. I wonder endlessly if the movie would’ve had the same impact had I not read the book.
Through the years I came to hate TV and largely for one reason only: commercials. I found it particularly disgusting for a full length feature to be commercially interrupted. With sitcoms it was sort of built in, so the breaks were not as disruptive or noticeable. But all in all, I could never sit through the slew of commercials. So, I’d channel surf. And in so doing, I’d never time it right to come back to the show I was watching. I’d always miss opening jokes and lines of dialog.
There are two other reasons to hate TV: I honestly cannot believe millions of TV viewers, not to mention the industry itself, still uses laugh tracks. The other reason is the censorship. Sort of renders “freedom of speech” as an oxymoron.
Out of the 1000s of made for TV movies I’ve watched I only remember one: 79 Park Place, and largely because I was sexually enthralled with Leslie Ann Warren.
In fact, because I haven’t watched TV in years, except movies on cable, I don’t even know if they still make movies for TV.
I never liked series because I like my stories straight up; in one bite. There were series I obsessed over when I was in school, like Gilligan’s Island, I Dream of Genie and a handful of others, but again, it was because of the women, not because of the situation or story.
I vaguely remember very old series like Paladin, Gun Smoke, The Rifleman and the one with the Cartwright family, with Big Hoss. I don’t remember a single storyline from any of those shows. Anything I do remember is largely because I’ve caught a rerun somewhere on the fly.
The only TV series I ever watched regularly was Kojak. I was living in New York at the time and Kojak captured the grittiness of the New York streets I encountered on a daily basis. Plus, I had a fascination with crime. In recent years, I got into Married with Children and the Sopranos.
The Sopranos became disturbing because I didn’t always see episode after episode, so I found myself continuously trying to trace back and catch up. I’m hoping to purchase the series on DVD someday, largely to find out if there is, in fact, a storyline that glues it all together.
Married with Children was also highly motivated by sex and I did find it hilarious. I’ve watched several episodes of Friends, once again, motivated by sex. But the Sopranos, Married with Children and Friends also interested me because it was during this time I was becoming more engrossed as a screenwriter.
Like all TV shows, these shows centered on situations, not stories with a beginning, middle and end. And they are mostly memorable because of strong characters played by charismatic personalities who might not necessarily be good actors (actresses).
Some shows actually made me sick, like the Dukes of Hazzard. And once again, I would find myself watching the show, bearing through the commercial interruptions, just to catch a glimpse of Katherine Bach.
It was during the Dukes of Hazzard I began thinking about the writers and producers of these series, and how they blatantly catered to millions of males like me out there in TV land waiting to get their rocks off on a single female character. And the hypocrisy makes me sick (the NFL bleeps the Rolling Stones and the entire industry is turned upside down because of the Janet Jackson bare breast controversy back in 2004).
There are a slew of highly successful TV series I never watched, with the exception of catching an episode here and there simply because I was bored, nothing else was on TV, or someone happened to be watching the show at the time I entered the room. Many of these shows have defined American pop culture, along with movies and music.
I never got into I Love Lucy, or Mash, or All In the Family and hoards of recent ones like Desperate Housewives or The West Wing or Law and Order.
I have no interest in foreign or independent films. I can’t think of one I like. I don’t associate My Big Fat Greek Wedding with being an independent film because I know it was backed by the majors and partially financed and produced by Tom Hanks.
However, inde films are getting better for me. Plus, I’m not sure some of the films I see are inde or major.
I am caught up in the star system, which partly explains why independent films lose their attractiveness for me. But I can embrace a unknown actor or actress when the acting is exceptional or if the story happens to move me. In fact, it’s a thrill when an unknown affects me that way.
There is tremendous irony in my avoidance of independent films. In was in Las Vegas I got to know several independent filmmakers. My relationships with them led to writing Watertown, South Dakota, a story about an independent filmmaker who goes all the way to Hollywood. The difference is that he wants to be a part of Hollywood but can’t break in. Independent filmmakers, for the most part, are trying to buck the Hollywood system.
The pluses and minuses of the Hollywood system is an endless debate.
One area I am particularly ill at ease with is the difference between Hollywood and the porn business. I know all too well that a large percentage of my film interest–particularly anything to do with TV, is sex-based.
And if I have any sense of unspoken identification with my male counterparts, I know there is nothing we would love more than to see our favorite Hollywood actresses performing sex porno style. If they ever made this transition–there would be no turning back.
Sex can ruin a career. It can also make it. But, if you do porn you don’t do Hollywood, except in very minor roles or caricature roles. The only actress I can think of that made a relatively decent transition is Traci Lords. No top star ever made the transition to a porno flick, although allegedly Sylvestor Stallone made some sort of porno flick very early in his career, now since long forgotten.
I wonder if it’s a question of acting ability. I have a sneaky suspicion that some porno stars are actually quite talented, and dream of somehow breaking into mainstream. This is one prediction I believe will happen in next five to ten years.
It makes perfect sense, really. Who could better perform sexually than a top notch, gorgeous, Hollywood actress? And, there are plenty of scenes in Hollywood movies that somehow got past the censorship radar, teetering on the border of X-rated. Hollywood knows how to play with censors and the ratings, as does TV.
I can love a porno movie and love a Disney movie at the same time. The industry knows I’m not alone, but it keeps the two markets very far apart. The X-rated section of video stores is usually partitioned off, but, the section is still in the same store along with Disney movies.
I don’t need every movie I watch or every story I love to have sex in it. In fact, sometimes, sex gets in the way, such as the obligatory love making scene. Some of my most favorite scenes are the final kiss scenes at the end of adventure stories. That one kiss is all I need.
I can be very loving; downright romantic. I want the love to be love without sex. This would be a movie that taps into all the other areas of my life other than the need for sex. I long to be close to someone. I long for great conversations. I long for great friendship. There are many expressions of love that are non-sexual.
I like violence too. But it really has to be handled in the right way and be a part of the story. Godfather, Apocalypse Now, Jaws, Silence of the Lambs, The Exorcist and Alien are a few movies where violence and horror worked for me. I can’t imagine these movies working with the violent scenes cut out. Is there such a difference as smart violence and stupid violence?
I have no interest in most classic horror genre movies. I won’t watch anything that has to do with vampires or werewolves. I have no fascination for such lore. Other movies, like the Terminator, I can’t stand because there’s nothing in the movie except violence. There’s nothing in the acting or story to hold my attention. Die Hard and Lethal Weapon were violent, but I was in love with the characters and the stories were strong.
I’m particularly bugged about drug movies as well. Most drug movies feature cops out to get drug dealers. The irony is that these movies existed or exist in a climate where the general movie audience takes drugs or is liberal on the use of drugs, not to mention Hollywood’s reputation for drug use.
French Connection was about Doyle in relentless pursuit of a French heroin dealer. Lethal Weapon was about two cops in pursuit of x-CIA turned drug dealers. Pacino was notorious as the coked-out dealer in Scarface. But morality wasn’t really the issue of these movies. They were just good stories with plenty of good action and great acting.
The most incredible and influential drug movie for me was Midnight Express with Brad Davis, taken prisoner in a Turkish prison. The Cheech and Chong movies celebrated pot smoking, something currently missing in movies in the new Millennium. Pot smoking is treated as a joke, such as the pot smoking scene by the parents in Poltergeist.
And we are in tremendous denial over booze.
Booze is so much a part of the culture and movie storylines that it’s taken for granted. Booze played an important role in the rape scene in Thelma and Louise. And what would the James Bond movies be without a martini, shaken, but not stirred. Almost every movie has a bar scene or club scene. Whenever anyone gets home from work, they have a drink (they don’t light up a joint).
Movies rarely tackle the destructiveness of drinking. Exceptions include Sharon Stone’s drug and drinking problem in Casino and Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas.
Distraught, sick, insane and otherwise demented anti-heroes populate many movies. Thelma and Louise were murderers on the run. Bonnie and Clyde were bankrobbers. In Badlands, it was a random spree of violence. But these characters are folk heroes. And even in Silence of the Lambs, we rooted for Dr. Lector. Every one of these characters would get the death penalty in real life and be despised.
It is extremely fascinating how we can feel such sympathy for monsters. Jaws worked particularly well because of Spielberg’s ingenious way of portraying a super intelligent shark against the backdrop of very stupid town’s folk. The people on the beach were selfish, fat, and self-indulgent. They deserved to be eaten by a shark. The fishermen were stupid and obnoxious. The local legislature and the mayor were greedy. Even the sheriff, who wins in the end, was not particularly bright.
We never hated the shark, except maybe when it ate Robert Shaw. But he was a shark hunter and his fate was inevitable. The story he told about his WW2 experience on the ship that delivered the atom bomb was especially poignant. The ship was sunk, leaving most of the survivors to be devoured one at a time by a pool of sharks. It was a great storytelling device and really added suspense.
The best antagonists are the ones the audience feels something for and this is irony at its best. Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father. Hannibal Lector is a brilliant psychiatrist with an amazing aptitude for understanding human behavior. He was also an exceptional artist.
Then, there are villains who are so evil there is nothing sympathetic about them at all. We want them dead. Gene Hackman was evil in the Clint Eastwood film, Unforgiven, and in the Quick and the Dead, with Sharon Stone and Russel Crowe. In the Clint Eastwood film, he was building a house and was a poor carpenter. In the Quick and the Dead, he provided the town’s entertainment.
We turn villians into heroes and at the same time cheer when villians are destroyed. It’s a wonder which side the audience is really on.
There are movies where there is protagonist/antagonist conflict, but we’re almost on both sides, or, are at least on both sides by the end of the film. One example is In Good Company with Dennis Quaid. Quaid plays an older boss threatened to be replaced by a cocky younger guy half his age (Topher Grace). This younger guy is also having sex with Quaid’s daughter. They become friends at the end.
Swimming with Sharks is a real twister on the good guy/bad guy. We hate Spacey throughout then care for him when he tells the tale of his wife’s murder. And the irony is that the young guy, played by Frank Whaley, ultimately becomes like Spacey, becoming the very character he fought so hard to not be.
Some movies have wrong endings, like The Stepford Wives. After all that fight, Katherine Ross loses in the end. That ending completely killed the movie for me, not to mention it was poorly acted, poorly directed, poorly shot and terribly drawn out.
I saw the remake but don’t remember it. I need to see it again.
I wish to God Elvis never did Hollywood or Vegas. Both Hollywood and Vegas destroyed his naturalness, even though Vegas is so strongly identified with the legendary character. I never liked Cher’s music, but thought she was wonderful actress. Why Madonna never did a flown blown musical–other than Evita–is a mystery. She did musical numbers in Dick Tracy and was wonderful. A couple of her films were pure trash. But musical theater is a small market and Hollywood is terribly neurotic about the genre (even though many films are disguised as musicals).
I can’t think of a male music star who successfully made the transition into film. Chris Kristopherson teetered on the edge of both. Jagger made a couple of spotty appearances and Paul or John never tried (with the exception of A Hard Day’s Night as a cult classic).
Dolly Parton was in a couple of major hits (9 to 5 and Steel Magnolias). Ice-T’s popularity is also hypocritical, considering the life he lived prior to becoming a Hollywood movie star. He was a pimp and drug dealer, and who knows how many people he hurt. Apparently he found some sort of salvation and it resonated with audiences.
Rap music has really changed how we view criminals, not to mention rap’s widespread audience.
I’m not keen on music artist biopics. One that stands out for me is Coalminer’s Daughter.
In older Hollywood the cross between music and film was greater because there was a greater cross between theater, musical theater and film. Current rock performances don’t translate into filmic storytelling. I love the concept of musicals, but musicals are no longer a viable medium.
Broadway still pumps out the occasional musical, but it’s usually written by a stalwart like Stephen Sondheim, or, it’s a remake. Moulin Rouge was a total fluke. How it got produced is a mystery; but it was successful. I did not like the use of pop songs. I wanted to hear original songs.
Chicago was a monstrous success and also a fluke. Out of all the musicals to remake, why Chicago?
There are several movies that masquerade as musicals: The Mask and Sister Act had great musical number scenes. Cotton Club and The Blues Brothers were musicals, but never called so. Both movies also featured pop/rock hits and standards. There were no original songs.
Finally a rap movie got me: Hustle and Flow. I’m not much into rap. I might not hate rap as much as I hate gangs. But I got a bit of the street in me too. I see how “exclusive clubs,” like golf clubs, are nothing more than white gangs in disguise.
I’m confused by how I can dislike a classic like Gone With the Wind when millions still hail it as one of the best movies ever made. I’m not much into classics, that is, before the 60s. I love 12 Angry Men (or anything with Henry Fonda–The Ox-Bow Incident, Boston Strangler, Grapes of Wrath, etc.).
I found myself at odds with men friends for loving Titanic and thinking “My Heart Will Go On” sung by Celine Dion was brilliant.
I love Harry Potter.
I’m confused by certain sequels, like the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the 6 Star Wars, and the Matrix series. I just can’t seem to get the stories straight.
James Bond lost me after Goldfinger. Haven’t seen Casino Royale as of this writing (Dec 2006).
Comedies seldom make me laugh, although I do have a few favorites, Blazing Saddles being one of them. I didn’t think Something About Mary was funny. In fact, there’s not a single movie Ben Stiller has made I liked.
Yet, I find myself laughing at lines and situations in even stupid movies like Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous with Sandra Bullock or Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blond 2: Red, White and Blonde. I am much more drawn to serious drama with humorous scenes than comedies designed to make me laugh.
I have a serious problem with actor/actress salaries. But then, maybe it’s because I’m not making one. I just think things are wharped when nurses, teachers, cops and firemen are paid so little.
I’m not sure if Hollywood is in the business of saving lives. It might depend on how you look at things. How important is Robert DeNiro in my life? Doesn’t he give me hope, strength and the courage to battle against the enemy? Yeah, that’s worth the price of a ticket.
