Gross Behaviour - by Leonard Klady

You Can't Take the Truth … or the Butter Topping

From my perspective, the months of November and December have become the biblical period on the movie calendar.

It is just coincidence that Mel Gibson's Passion is in the news and a film of The Gospel of John is playing in theaters in the heartland. The biblical allusion harkens back to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and a visit by an emissary of God to Lot warning of the fiery destruction that would descend upon the godless twin cities. Lot asked for divine mercy and struck a deal that if he could find 10 righteous men, the cities would be spared.

Moving on from the Sunday school memory, I liken Lot's fruitless bargain to the search for a handful or two of movies that remind us of the power of cinema. Films that thrill, enlighten and engage our mind and soul.

Without peeking, my top 10 list in 2002 had but seven or eight titles and there was still no reign of terror that befell Hollywood, Burbank or Culver City. The on-going conundrum of the film industry - particularly the American one - is: why, considering all the resources of money and talent at its disposal, are the movies being produced not better. I'd stop short of calling them bad and would like to find a word less banal than mediocre.

Obviously there's no quick fix solution. One can make a dandy argument that the majors and indies are simply making the sort of movies audiences like and point to record box office and attendance levels set last year as proof of the assertion. However, the root of the problem is far more complex and so engrained in the structure that it's unlikely to be reversed. It might still evolve out of the current quagmire but not necessarily into a golden era.

Essentially, the true art of the industry has been taken out of the hands of the writers, directors and craftsmen who physically create moving pictures and put into the hands of the executives, businessmen and talent wranglers who make the deals. An average production from one of the majors represents an investment of $100 million and has to generate at least twice that amount from all revenue streams just to break even. So, while it's all very well and good that the script's terrific and the cast and crew is pristine, does it have elements that can be turned into merchandise; does the studio control the soundtrack; is there an overseas financier/distributor to limit the upfront risk; will an automobile manufacturer provide cash and marketing money if its product is featured?

Contractually it might still be deemed a film by or be marketed as a vehicle starring … However, true authorship rests with the corporate logo that appears before any credit or opening shot.

In that sort of climate, a film that lacks obvious hooks is the type of challenge the decision makers are loath to address on more than an occasional basis. However, if that "important" film can be made for a price (cheaply) and involve top talent working for considerably less than their usual quote, it will receive due consideration. It also helps to position the film as an Oscar contender. Social relevance is just fine but how can the studio possibly sell "it" to a) teenagers looking for a Friday night date movie or, b) adults who don't go to the multiplex anyway.

So, the easy selling option is to tub thump the film as the best movie of the year.

Backing up a step, one must first understand that most films today are sold on the basis of movie stars, even if it happens to be a brand director on the order of Spielberg or Tarantino. When, for instance, Tom Cruise has a new movie about to open, his visage is plastered across the leading magazines and he shows up on every talk show on the air. He might be asked, in passing, to talk about the upcoming picture. However, primarily he'll be queried about his personal life and working with co-stars and directors or the joys and problems of filming in an exotic location.

Cruise is basically selling himself as a means to get people into seats and a movie star, a real movie star, can attract a significant opening weekend crowd. From there word-of-mouth becomes a factor in whether the film works commercially. But understand that the success or failure of a film might boil down to whether the public accepts the particular role the actor is playing. Stepping out of an accepted screen persona is traditionally a bad thing for a movie star.

There was a time, not that long ago, when it was possible to publicize a movie on the basis of content. The majors made programmers that fit neatly into a variety of genres or comedies or musicals featuring performers that specialized in that sort of fare. They also made more ambitious or serious pictures, often based upon bestsellers or culled from news stories.

Selling the film used to be sexy. Publicity and marketing departments would look for ways to promote a movie off the entertainment pages. News features and editorials might tackle journalism and ethics prompted by the release of Absence of Malice or re-examine capital punishment via In Cold Blood or the morality of war using the extremes of M*A*S*H and Patton as talking points. Short of a Nexus search, I'd be hard pressed to recall something of that ilk being written about Chicago, The Hours or The Gangs of New York before or after they were Oscar nominated. The Pianist's director Roman Polanski did receive some news coverage but it dwelled on his status as a parole violator (and worse) and, by the way, his new film is a best picture nominee.

It would seem like a no-brainer to promote Seabiscuit in the sports page of major newspapers. There were probably a couple a pieces but frankly I learned more about the sport of kings in the coverage marking the death of jockey Willy Shoemaker than in the days and weeks leading up to the movie's debut. The obits recalled an era, a man and a sport with breadth and depth whereas an interview with Seabiscuit director Gary Ross (conducted at Santa Anita Racetrack) about his obsession with the turf was frankly banal.

It difficult to say whether there's a general lack of imagination in the promotion of motion pictures or a failure to grasp the resonance of movies by the press. Regardless, the codependent relationship that exists between these two groups isn't beneficial to either side.

One would think that Seabiscuit would have a leg up in promoting itself as a serious adult movie by playing during the summer against a field littered with movies with numbers in their titles. Certainly with a domestic box office of more than $118 million one can't begrudge its commercial response. Still, there's an absolute conviction within the film industry that people have short memories. The relative absence of award recognition for the summer 2002 release The Road to Perdition is cited as proof of that contention, though one can also offer up such Oscar contenders from the summer as Forrest Gump, Braveheart and Saving Private Ryan as a refutation.

Prior to the end of the year, several dozen prestige films - the sort that wind up winning critics prizes and Oscar nominations - will be released in theaters hoping to garner nominations in major categories. Judging from the initial or early promotion of these movies they will be sold more on pedigree than content. For instance, the average moviegoer would be hard-pressed to tell you more than it's a thriller starring Meg Ryan in reference to In the Cut. Television ads highlight that the film's from Oscar-winner Jane Campion (original screenplay for The Piano).

Frankly, I'm bored to irritation by trailers and TV ads that use Oscar nominations and wins to promote a film. The Human Stain employs Anthony Hopkins, Nicole Kidman and director Robert Benton's Oscars as if they were an assurance of quality and ignores the acclaim the novel by Phillip Roth received. Miramax, its distributor, also prefers to mask its social message in the sort of "keep the secret" campaign it manipulated brilliantly on The Crying Game.

The landscape doesn't get much better for the rest of the pack. Mystic River is Clint Eastwood's "crowning achievement" and it's sad and Sean Penn gets to emote to the hilt. Sylvia looks like some rosy comedy vehicle for Gwyneth Paltrow and not the tragic study of poet Sylvia Plath while Beyond Borders would appear to be a love story that knows no bounds. The fact that it's inspired by the work of Doctors Without Borders and famine and disease in Ethiopia and Cambodia is at its core needn't obscure its widescreen vistas. The Alamo offers up historic spectacle and Cold Mountain is brimming with star power and drama and passion. In those sort of cock-eyed perspectives, one can only cringe about the spin being offered on quality films such as Elephant and In America that are devoid of star power, locations or pyrotechnics.

The sad part of all this is the trivialization of some very good movies. One can just imagine Jack Nicholson's character in A Few Good Men as a senior studio exec rising and glowering at some suggestion made during a marketing meeting and putting that pup in his place with: You Can't Tell the TRUTH! All movies are warm baths.

Shortly after the release of About Schmidt last year I ran into its co-producer Harry Gittes. This dark saga had the sort of protracted history of turnarounds and false starts that plague serious subject matter. It eventually received a green light because of Nicholson's involvement and the fact that it could be made for that "price" thing. It was one of my favorite films in 2002 but I can take the challenge of the downbeat. At that moment it was a critical hit but a long way from earning its commercial stripes (it would do just fine, grossing more than $100 million globally). Nonetheless, I told him that I was certain it would be a success because my neighbors who work in below-the-line categories on movies loved it and totally missed the edgier aspects of the story. He laughed and nodded knowingly.

Schmidt was certainly presented to the public as an offbeat comedy and for the masses that's just how they chose to view it. I doubt it would have been a success marketed as an emotional family drama or a personal tragedy. I can't belittle the fact that it fared better in the marketplace than The Hours but I'm at a loss to explain why so many people are not refreshed by the bracing experience of a cold shower.