July is probably a little early to declare any year the worst movie year ever, but I haven’t had the opportunity to see enough films these past few months to mount any kind of argument either way with the Wall Street Journal’s Joe Queenan’s belief that Hollywood hit the bottom of the bottom in 2010. I would most certainly argue, however, that this decade has far and away been the worst ever — a perfect storm of soulless, bloated blockbusters, 140-minute “comedies,” self-consciously indie indies, and the last dying gasp of anything resembling the charismatic movie star. Two words Queenan and I would surely bond forever as blood brothers over: Shia and LaBeouf.
Though he’s a little hard on “Grown Ups” and awkwardly avoids rendering a judgment of any kind on Christopher Nolan’s much-debated “Inception,” give Queenan credit for at least managing to avoid the self-referential while creating a somewhat hyperbolic frame that’s obviously meant to draw attention to Hollywood’s bigger problems (which essentially boils down to the fact that those who make the movies are completely out of touch with these who watch the movies). Because if 2010 was the worst year ever for anything, it was the oh-so precious and nearly-extinct Critical Community’s masturbatory need to write about themselves. Honestly guys and gals, if entertainment is the least necessary industry in the history of the world, what does that make those of you who spend your lives intellectualizing over why it isn’t?
My personal realization that everything that could possibly go wrong with Hollywood has, occurred about halfway through a matinee of “Predators” I ducked into earlier this week. No offense to Adrien Brody who’s a fine actor and probably a very nice guy, but after he won an Oscar in 2002 for “The Pianist,” do you really think he saw himself just a few years later spending an inordinate amount of time under the leadership of a personal trainer in order to get properly ripped because his next gig was stepping into Arnold Schwarzenegger’s shoes?
Brody deserves better and so do we.
Who in their right mind would cast Brody as the lead in a “Predator” film? The entire appeal of the original was Ahnuld vs. Alien. That’s how movie stars are supposed to work. You want to see their well-crafted persona pitted against a particular situation. Jim Carrey is God, Stallone vs. Super Russian, Bruce vs. a building filled with terrorists, Eastwood vs. Urban Vermin, Will Smith vs. Alien Invasion, a pre-chest waxed Harrison Ford vs. Anything.
Adrien Brody?
While there are some creative reveals throughout the first half, “Predators” might have worked a little better had the idea of momentum been employed (a chronic symptom of any film involving Robert Rodriguez) in order to make the viewer feel as though we were at least headed towards The Big Showdown. But even then, who wants to see Adrien Brody in The Big Showdown? There’s no appeal there, no heat, no sneaking into a matinee during working hours thrill.
Hollywood’s war on masculinity has utterly and completely failed. The only winner has been the makers of all this heartless 3D technology that’s been rolled out by panicked execs in an effort to make up for the fact that Someone’s Whose Name You Can’t Remember is starring in yet another overlong, over-produced, VFX’d monstrosity with a plot that’s impossible to follow and a camera that refuses to stand still.
And so I ask you…
Are we finally done laughing at Jean-Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal, Chuck Norris, 80’s Bronson and 90’s Stallone? Has the season of the meterosexual at last managed to wipe the smug off our face as we awaken to a re-appreciation of just how remarkably effective those STARS were at bringing some level of satisfaction and charisma to even the worst of their lean, mean programmers that at least respected the audience enough to deliver a simple story and a goddamned tripod?
I’ll take a “Daylight” over anything starring a Shia or Ewan or Hayden. I’ll take a “Delta Force 2” over any actioner with an Adrien as the “badass” — no matter how many abs careful lighting and strategically smeared mud is able to pop from his starved abdomen.
Good grief. Just bring on the “The Expendables” already.
UPDATE: I was certain my “entertainment industry is the least necessary” comment would stir up some debate I could then jump into. Sadly it didn’t. But a friend did just email: “What do you mean by that? I work in the entertainment industry!” Here’s my reply to her:
Hey, I love the entertainment industry. Always have, always will. Movies are my life. And I do think it’s an “important” industry in many, many ways and I take its importance very seriously, which is why I do what I do at Big Hollywood.
But is the entertainment industry “necessary?”
The industry employs a lot of people and that’s something, but even though my current employment depends on its existence I still think of it as a luxury. Bread makers are necessary, teachers, farmers, auto mechanics, doctors, police and firemen are necessary. The military is necessary, the butcher and the ambulance driver.
The benefits of the entertainment industry are wonderful luxuries and because of their affect on our culture and politics, they’re even important luxuries. But if the entertainment industry were to disappear tomorrow, life would go on. Sure, we’d miss it. Probably a lot. Especially at first. But life would go on.
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