Filmgoing in the age of advertising-as-entertainment

It used to be that studios would parlay the success of a movie into products. The Star Wars series, which George Lucas spun into a veritable licensing orgy, would be the quintessential example of this. (It's no accident that the studios and the entertainment media now refer to a film series as a "franchise".)

Then, with the release of films like the Lara Croft: Tomb Raider® and Resident Evil® series, the reversal began, where movies were now "inspired by" products, in this case video games, rather than the other way around.

At least the above-noted products were creative works with something resembling characters and a storyline. With Battleship®, which has been a spectacular and expensive flop so far, we now have a commercial film based on a mere product. (To say that a simple guessing game has an inherent "storyline" or even a sense of drama is bit of a stretch.)

The thinking seems to be that brand recognition itself is enough to get vast numbers of people swamping their local megaplex. If this really is the case, expect to see films with titles like McDonald's®, iPad®, or Professional® 4L Wax Build-Up Remover.

So let's do the math on what is shaping up to be the current filmgoing experience: audiences are paying ever-higher ticket prices to watch movies based on products, with product placements scattered throughout. Not to mention that the cartoons/newsreels/short subjects that used to precede the feature attraction have long been replaced by commercials.

I realize I'm being a Negative Nelly, and should just lighten up. Afterall, summer is almost here, and that means Hormel® Chunk Meats: Chunk White & Dark Chicken will be hitting the big screen. Life is sweet!

The Quebec student rioters: legitimate protesters or bored hooligans?

I don't care how you cut it - a modest tuition hike does not constitute a valid reason for college and university students in Quebec to riot and throw Molotov cocktails, particularly when they already enjoy the lowest tuition rate of any of their counterparts across Canada.

The real shame of the current tumult - as well as that Vancouver faced in 2011 over the outcome of a silly hockey game - is that it makes a total mockery of legitimate protest. There are parts of the world, across various epochs of history, where oppressed populations have stood up and collectively asserted themselves in the face of tyranny.

And in such cases, there is always honesty about the true issue of the participants' dissent. I just can't find it in myself, however, to sympathize with that much rage over wanting to save a few bucks on tuition. Something else is at work here - either some sort of ulterior motive on the part of a core of organizers, or else this is a case of a younger generation being completely and utterly incapable of dealing with their own boredom in a constructive and intelligent fashion.

At least the rioting Vancouverites weren't being dishonest by attaching some highfalutin justification to their cause - the pictures of drunken hooligans proudly smirking for the camera with broken windows and burning cars behind them told us all we needed to know about their amorality. They were being as honest as they were empty-headed.

Their Quebec brethren should at least be upfront about what they are really fighting against. If there is something in Canadian society that is that oppressive, someone please let me know, as I'd gladly stand among their ranks as a matter of civic duty.

Otherwise, if they're merely using tuition hikes as an excuse to blow off excess steam, they'd be better off taking up a contact sport of some kind. Or moving to Vancouver.  (Rim shot.)

Protest in one form or another is often the first step of an individual or group towards genuine self-emancipation, and thus is among the noblest of human activities. I'd call these students "protesters", but I think far too much of legitimate protest to do something like that.

Yes, this blog is sleeping...

Just a quick note to say that this blog is in "sleep mode" for now due to some things I'm working on offline. When these things come to fruition I'll give this blog a reboot to bring it into line with my efforts out there in meatspace.

Stay tuned.

Letter to the Editor (USA Today)

From: James Deagle
Subject: Letter to the Editor
To: letters@usatoday.com
Received: Sunday, January 1, 2012, 10:13 AM

Dear Editor:

Just today I was reading Anick Jesdanun's article on your website (How to get your Facebook in order), and wanted to leave a comment advising people about the pitfalls of Facebook, and why they'd be better off simply deactivating their account. You can imagine my dismay when I finished rattling off a quick paragraph's worth of my two cents and realized that the only way to leave a comment is to log in through a Facebook profile.

I find it troubling that you limit your online conversation to Facebook members, as there are plenty of us out there who have either not signed up or have deactivated our accounts on a matter of serious principle due to ongoing (and unresolved) privacy concerns. Additionally, many of us refuse to provide a map of our social life and consumer preferences to an organization that has yet to prove itself a trustworthy guardian of that information.

By allowing your online conversation to be 'branded' by Facebook, can we as readers trust that USA Today will also provide objective news coverage of Facebook when privacy, copyright and other legal issues arise, and perhaps even dare to publish editorials critical of it when warranted? By allowing Facebook to own and control your online forums, you allow a shadow of doubt to be cast over said objectivity, and as such I am less inclined to count myself among your readership.

James Deagle
Ottawa,Canada

An Open Plea to Reality Show Contestants

Dear Reality Show Contestant:

I am writing this as a TV viewer who has subjected himself to far more hours of so-called 'reality' television than he cares to remember. It's not that I find this programming stimulating - it's simply that all too often there is nothing else on. I don't expect this situation to change anytime soon, and so it looks like we'll be spending time together in the future. As such, I have one piece of advice. Or perhaps a request. Make that a desperate plea...

Whether you're vying for a recording contract, an executive chef position, or simply a stack of money for winning some grueling obstacle course, I beg you to please make it about the competition, and not some background melodrama from your offscreen life.

I realize you probably have a loved one who is terminally ill, or has recently died from a terminal illness. But for crying out loud, please don't dishonor that person (or their memory) by turning them into some inflatable whore of convenience for the sake of ingratiating yourself with the judges or viewers at home. I trust I speak for most people when I say it does nothing for us. We've seen this all before, and it is beyond boring. In fact, it has become quite annoying.

While I'm sure you loved your Aunt Millie, and were by her side through her courageous battle against pleuropulmonary blastoma, please don't dedicate your onscreen singing, cooking or insect-eating to her. And even more to the point, please don't reference her at every opportunity, especially when you falter and think some more sympathy points will propel you to the next round.

The most blatant example of what I'm talking about was a recent contestant on the Food Network's Chopped. At the beginning of the episode, she was all bravado about her credentials as a Cordon Bleu Culinary Arts graduate. As the show progressed, and her fortunes sunk, she increasingly blamed her missteps on her sister having recently died. In one of the post-mortem on-camera interviews, she expressed bemusement that she wasn't given a leg up due to her fragile emotional state, and then looked straight into the camera, saying with defiant smugness (as well as a total lack of grief): "Hello! Death!"

In one fell swoop, I was left doubting not only her cooking abilities but also the sincerity of her 'loss', assuming she wasn't a paid actress to begin with. (If you miss your sister so much, then let her rest in peace and dignity, rather than defiling her corpse for the sake of a ham-fisted attempt at saving face.) Even worse, however, is that such cheap theatrics don't make for good television, regardless of whatever you've been told or how you've been coached by your show's producers. In fact, it makes for painful television.

So despite whatever disdain I may have for your show and its ilk, you should nevertheless make it about your passion, intelligence and abilities. Full stop. That's all any viewer will ever really want from you, even those of us who tune in with such low expectations.

I'm sure Aunt Millie would understand.

Sincerely,
James Deagle

Breaking the seal

This post constitutes a desperate effort to end a two-month literary drought. If I just start typing, perhaps something akin to writing may emerge, despite the objections of my inner Truman Capote.

It's not that I've had nothing to say, and it isn't that I haven't been bursting with the urge and intent to write...no, the problem has been at the bio-chemical level. The act of writing for me has usually been an act of capturing, harnessing and transcribing into words my mind's equivalent of fleeting musical notes -- all I've had to work with these days, however, is my mind's equivalent of a steady dial tone. O distant uncooperative muse...

There are times, however, when the only way to break the seal is to smash the bottle. This is one of those times.

Don't take the above as griping, however. The reason for my recent inability to focus on writing is that my energies and emotions have been drastically redirected due to the recent birth of my son. Those who already have kids need no further explanation, and for those without kids...there is no amount of explaining that can do the experience justice. With blogging being a solipsistic activity to begin with, I can only convey my own perspective on being a new dad.

For starters, it is like nothing I ever could have imagined. Being there with my wife through labor and delivery, going respectively from a sense of fear and helplessness to a sudden mind-shattering endorphin spike, and losing my heart to this new little person at first sight, represented a cataclysmic shift in my internal universe. I'm still the same ol' me, just an upgraded, massively sleep-deprived, and less trivial version. (Retro geeks can download an iso CD image of the previous me via a torrent at www.thepiratebay.org.)

So there you have it. A blog post from this keyboard after weeks of the author fearing it would never happen, hopefully followed by more of a less navel-gazing nature. Watch your step...those shards of glass can hurt.


______


Acknowledgement


This post did not occur in a vacuum. I had no idea of what to write about until after talking on the phone to Peter, comparing notes about writing as well as new fatherhood. Some of the material above came about verbally during the give-and-take of that conversation. Additionally, communing with a kindred literary spirit in of itself is always good for stimulating the writing gland.

Review - Kung Fu, the Invisible Fist (1972)

Plot: Lee Chang is a police captain sent to Shanghai (with his second-in-command, Su Dong) to investigate Lin, an underworld figure running a white slavery racket. Meanwhile, this same racket has also been infiltrated by Jian Tai, a Japanese operative (nicknamed "The Hungry Tiger") who is using his newfound position as a henchman of Lin's as a base from which to relay maps and information regarding Chinese naval bases to his superiors back home. Tensions mount as Lee Chang and Jian Tai begin to suspect each other, leading to an inevitable showdown.

If you watch enough old chop socky flicks - especially those from Hong Kong (HK) - you learn to hope for the best and brace for the worst. So much of the 1970s HK output was a blur of muddled and incoherent storylines, unimaginative fight choreography (from the Jump In Front of the Camera and Wave Your Arms Around school), and a seeming attitude of total indifference towards the audience. In short, even the most ardent kung fu maniac often reaches a point where they ask themselves: "Why do I watch this shit?"

Thankfully, a movie like Kung Fu, The Invisible Fist comes along to restore your faith. While nothing earth-shattering, it nevertheless comes across as a solid and sincere attempt at being an all-around good movie, while also delivering the genre goods. In a field marked by stylistic excess at the expense of substance, this one has everything the average viewer should expect in the right proportions.

Although Lee Chang is the hero in this tale, his sidekick Su Dong provides the heart, as he shows compassion for the story's marginalized figures. (He frees Anna, a white slave girl from Russia, and makes himself a friend and guardian of the lowly dock workers employed by Lin.) While Lee Chang becomes increasingly concerned with national security, Su Dong acts with an obvious concern for social justice. Because he truly cares about the people in this movie, so does the viewer.

Because of the above, the inevitable elements of kung fu cheesiness and unintended laughs are welcome - even endearing - rather than irritating. Witness the following snatches of ludicrous dialogue:

Su Dong: He was bragging about his karate. It's no good. I can't stand it!

Or, as hero and villain square off just as the climactic fight gets underway, some down 'n dirty trash talk, HK-style:

Jian Tai: You know, in Japan, what they call me there? It's "The Hungry Tiger".

Lee Chang: Oh really? I have a nickname too, "The Crazy Dragon".

And while I'm not one to find mirth in human trafficking, a scene where struggling slave girls are being forcefully stuffed into wooden crates comes across momentarily as an oversized game of Whac-A-Mole as they randomly stand up only to be shoved back down. Guilty snickers, indeed.

All-in-all, a well-made and engaging film with a welcome dose of humanity and competence.