Movie Magic: When Bigger Is Better
In 2008, Wall Street was wounded, Detroit was roadkill, but Hollywood kept cruising along. Despite a 100-day writers' strike that postponed the release of a few big titles to 2009, and the usual quadrennial dip in attendance as some Americans stayed home to watch the Summer Olympics and follow the presidential campaign, the movie industry weathered the recession, finishing the year close to 2007's $9.7 billion take in domestic (North American) theaters. The number of tickets sold, about 1.33 billion, was the lowest since 1996, but Hollywood won't need a bailout as long as the average ticket price keeps inching up. It's now about $7, which, all things considered, still makes the movies a fairly cheap night out.
But what are moviegoers going out to see? There are really two Hollywoods: the one that covets box-office gold 11 months of the year and the one that in December dreams of gold-plated statuettes for its trophy case. Christmas week saw the releases of films meant to bridge that gap -- including The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, with Brad Pitt as a man who ages in reverse, and Revolutionary Road, a domestic drama starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. And this is the seaso -- as industry accountants tot up the past year's champs and chumps while critics pass out scrolls to their preferred films -- to bridge another gap, taking stock of the state of the art alongside the state of the biz.
You may ask what film criticism has to do with box-office tallies. Who cares if a film plays to just a thin crowd of the cognoscenti, so long as it makes a fresh statement about life in a vivid visual language? The answer is that in recent years a movie's popularity has become a decent indicator, not just of its entertainment value but also of its quality. (And with box-office earnings regularly reported, audiences take note.) Indie films have grown stagnant and flaccid, while the blockbusters have gotten smarter, mixing storytelling craft with nifty effects work by the most imaginative people around -- the F/X technicians, cinematographers and second-unit directors -- who push their movies' visions further. To put it baldly, action films are where the art is. Bigger is better.
The Year in Hits and Misses
No surprise: The big hits of 2008 were action films and animated features. The Dark Knight, Iron Man, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Hancock copped the top four slots, and the James Bond Quantum of Solace was ninth. WALLE, Kung Fu Panda, Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa and Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who! all made the list. The only wild card was No. 8, the teen vampire romance Twilight, which was also by far the cheapest to make, at $37 million: the budgets for the other pictures in the Top 10 averaged about $150 million.
Most consoling for American moguls, all but the Bond film were U.S. movies. And they extended their domination around the globe. Except for Mamma Mia! and The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian replacing Twilight and Horton, the worldwide box-office list was the same. (If you're wondering, ladies, Sex and the City finished 11th on both charts.) This is one American business that needn't worry about foreign incursions. In movies, Hollywood rules.
This year the box-office king was a knight. The Batman drama, spurred by the performance, and untimely death, of Heath Ledger, raked in just about a billion dollars worldwide, including $530.8 million in North America. It now trails only Titanic on the all-time domestic list. (Admittedly, that's in today's puny dollars. Adjusted for inflation, The Dark Knight wouldn't crack the all-time Top 25.) So you can expect ever more action films as well as a bunch of snazzy CGI cartoons. Also Judd Apatow -- sponsored raunchy comedies, which have proved an excellent return on investment. And dog movies. With Bolt hitting $100 million, Beverly Hills Chihuahua not far behind and Marley & Me breaking the box-office record for Christmas Day, Hollywood is sure to start up remakes of Old Yeller, Turner & Hooch, Beethoven and possibly Cujo.
What didn't seize the mass-movie audience was American independent films. For a couple of years, a few indie movies -- spurred by critics' raves, Oscar nominations and old-fashioned word of mouth -- earned robust box-office results: Little Miss Sunshine, No Country for Old Men and, most remarkably, Juno, the teen-pregnancy comedy that, on a $7.5 million budget, outgrossed such pricey, massively promoted (and popular) superproductions as Prince Caspian and The Incredible Hulk. But recently, relatively, nothing.
Aside from low-budget horror movies (Saw V, The Strangers) and stoner comedies (Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay), the top-grossing American independent picture of 2008 was the redemption drama Fireproof, made for a minuscule $500,000 and amassing the elusive Christian Fundamentalist movie bloc to earn $33 million. The next most popular indie film was Fireproof's opposite: the Bill Maher anti-God docucomedy Religulous, at $13 million.
These two films succeeded by playing to their bases. But audiences connected hardly at all with the traditional indie movie of the Sundance type: the drama or comedy whose microscopic, sensitively acted take on modern life manages to strike chords with the larger group of, so to speak, unaffiliated voters. A critics' fave like The Visitor couldn't graze the $10 million box-office ceiling. Rachel Getting Married, bedecked with year-end awards for actress (Anne Hathaway), supporting actress (Rosemarie DeWitt) and screenplay (Jenny Lumet), just sneaked over the $10 million mark.
If 2008 proved anything, it's that the action film -- with hits like Iron Man, Wanted and The Dark Knight and the underperforming but exhilarating Speed Racer -- is where most of the talent has gone: into the technique and technology of pure moviemaking, of getting the viewer's blood racing by making worlds collide. Even soso action pictures -- Indiana Jones, The Incredible Hulk, Death Race -- interrupt their attitudinizing with set pieces that are figuratively or literally dynamite. They're like an old Astaire-Rogers movie that comes to soaring life when the couple starts dancing.
In Iron Man, which was way smarter than it had any need to be, director Jon Favreau showed a subtle sense of where to lead the camera and the audience. He guided his talented cast, while the stuntmen and CGI wizards got the movie to pop for the kids. That's teamwork, group art, of a high order. Fusing all these elements fulfills the original definition of the medium: to make cinema kinetic -- to make movies move.
That's what Peter Jackson did with his Lord of the Rings trilogy and, to a lesser extent, what the crew of the later Harry Potter films has achieved. It's what Christopher Nolan has squeezed into his Batman movies. The Dark Knight may have six too many subplots, but you can't say this 212-hr. morality play has nothing on its mind. It's a very thinky action film.
One of the tonic aspects of the new action genre is that writers and directors have taken their big budgets as a license to innovate. Perhaps they've been inspired by the dense, ambitious plots of modern graphic novels (though Frank Miller's film of The Spirit, based on the 1940s comic book by graphic-novel creator Will Eisner, somehow contrives to be a risible botch). It's a tendency that stretches from Hollywood to distant movie capitals. In Paris, Luc Besson has been producing turbocharged action movies like the Transporter series with Jason Statham. Timur Bekmambetov, from Kazakhstan, made two wildly imaginative Russian sci-fi thrillers, Night Watch and Day Watch. Then he went west, linked his hallucinogenic eye to the narrative drive of the Mark Millar comic book Wanted and fashioned a clever, bustling summer hit. Like the sharpest American action auteurs, Bekmambetov knows his audience has a desire beyond "Blow stuff up." It's "And while you're at it, blow my mind."
The Little Movies That Couldn't
So machine art is here to stay. Is handmade art on the wane? It might seem so, if Rachel Getting Married is the standard bearer. Like Mike Leigh's lauded English film Happy-Go-Lucky, Jonathan Demme's Rachel is a stern test of the audience's indulgence for an extreme personality -- not Leigh's cockeyed optimist but noisome Kym (Hathaway), on parole from a rehab center, who has a gift for ruining everybody's day, especially the wedding day of her sister Rachel (DeWitt). Studiously slapdash, the film wants you to see Kym's destructive nature while understanding her desperate needs. Cuddling up with a python would be more fun. As for Kym's large, weird family, convened for a big event: Didn't we get enough of that when we went home for the holidays?
Some viewers have responded warmly to the Rachel menagerie, and we're not quarreling with them. We're just saying there's no artistic challenge Demme offers his audience, apart from choosing whether to sympathize with the film's protagonist or reject her. And with indie films, the choice is usually premade, in stories about outsiders triumphing over propriety or being crushed by the system. The former is the case in Thomas McCarthy's The Visitor, with the nicely reticent Richard Jenkins as an isolate who lets some improbable strangers into his life. It's a slow, amiable film boasting fine performances, but if you can't predict every plot twist, you're just not paying attention. Writer-director Kelly Reichardt takes the bummer route in Wendy and Lucy, a kind of Marley & Me for depressives. This is a virtual one-woman show: Michelle Williams (again, excellent) plays homeless waif Wendy, whose only reliable friend is her dog Lucy. It's minimalism par excellence, which is to say nothing happens.
The indie-land exception is the downer comedy Synecdoche, New York, about a theater man (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who creates the system that crushes him.
Charlie Kaufman's film may be about an artistic dead end, but for the sympathetic traveler, it's a new, exciting yellow brick road.
The end of the year often brings major-studio movies that play like indie films with bigger stars and heftier budgets. Revolutionary Road casts DiCaprio as a commuter to Manhattan wage-slavery in the '50s and Winslet as his wife, eager to escape the suburbs and regain what she thinks was the boho freedom of their early days. With its trenchant performances and its acute view of the midcentury middle class, the movie shares a lot with the AMC series Mad Men -- except that director Sam Mendes italicizes the domestic drama instead of finding its quieter nuances. As Mad Men brilliantly proves, that sort of behavioral subtlety has become the almost exclusive province of long-form TV drama. When movies try it, they can seem shrill by comparison.
Can the indie drama and the action film congenially meet? They already have, twice. Danny Boyle's Anglo-Indian Slumdog Millionaire is the indie movie Americans only wish they could make: a vibrant, swirling social fresco that has broken out of the arthouse ghetto into the mainstream. David Fincher's Benjamin Button, a centuryspanning, episodic epic that rarely raises its voice, has such assurance and conviction that its considerable F/X magic can support the sweet character of Benjamin and his darling, dancing Daisy (Cate Blanchett) instead of upstaging them. Obsessed with death, enthralled by life, the picture is an old-fashioned love story as well as a stateof-the-art wonder.
Slumdog and Benjamin show that films need not be all action glitz, all indie introspection. They can be both: computer-cool and handmade, movies that move and move the audience. That's the best reason to look forward to the movies of 2009.
Clinicians' efforts from the outset should be directed toward supporting children's functioning and, even more importantly, helping their families to support and protect them. This emphasis will help work toward the goal of minimizing the potential damage caused by the abuse for both the child victims and the nonoffending family members. By addressing parents' and children's overt and latent concerns, medical examiners not only provide care that extends beyond the forensic aspects of the evaluation, but also can help families focus on important issues, including ensuring the child's safety, acknowledging the feelings of family members, and ensuring counseling for the child and adults.