As we move deeper into the movie awards season, many have rendered the state of American cinema dismal, at best. After decades of glorious westerns, thrilling mysteries, gripping love stories and vivid war pictures comes something like "Pirates of the Carribbean: Dead Man's Chest."
Is a sequel to a movie that was adapted from a Disney ride the future of American moviemaking?
Sure, it's the future, citing the impending release of "Pirates of the Carribbean: At World's End." Luckily, for every fluff film like "Pirates" there are innovative films like "Before Sunset."
Don't know it? "Before Sunset" is an 80 minute masterpiece directed by Richard Linklater that delves into the dialogue between two ex-lovers, played by Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy, during an early evening in Paris. It's a simple and quaint walk through the most romantic city in the world as the characters account for lives that didn't turn out the way they planned.
The problem with a film like this is the limited audience it attracts. Not many people want to watch two Debbie Downers walk down a street for an hour and a half complaining about life. It's not fun. And also, there's no Johnny Depp.
Even though the main stream barrel of movies have mostly fallen into the general acceptance that pricey special effects now qualify as coherent film (see "D?(c)j?Ae Vu"), it is this aspect of underground filmmaking that promises to tell real stories about real people.
But do we want tired, slow movies about real action and real emotion? Don't we go to the movies to see something spectacular?
Why did so many go to see "The Notebook?" Was it the original plot and smart writing?
Of course it wasn't. People went to see "The Notebook" because it was a love story that seemed larger than life; a tale of love, loss, and love reborn. Was it corny and sentimental crap? Yes, that's undisputable. However, that doesn't negate the fact that every time it's on, I watch it, and so do most of those out there reading this. Don't deny it.
When done right, movies, no matter what genre, can bring us into a state of wonder that keeps us coming back for more. Crying at the end of a film is beautiful, like crying at a heartbreaking song or haunting photograph.
Film is art's gateway to the world. It can bring a painting to life or make a book into something tangible, something you can watch and react to. Within only two hours a film can change your view on the world.
A perfect example of this is Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11." This documentary was highly criticized for the information it presented, yet highly respected for portraying its message with skillful influence. Following this documentary's release the Bush Administration came under telescopic observation by the American people, who were now curious about the so-called "War on Terror."
On the religious front it can be argued that Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" reassured many people's faith. When I saw the atrocities done to Jesus Christ I felt, in some small way, that I understood the magnitude of his sacrifice.
Perhaps it's this undeniable power that film wields which makes cheap thrills, such as "Firewall," hard to swallow. It feels wrong that more people went to see that waste of time than "Deliver Us From Evil," an investigative documentary on select priests who were charged with sexual abuse and the scandalous nationwide cover up that ensued. While one reveals a sickness in today's society, the other simply observes how Harrison Ford is getting too old to jump around and dodge bullets.
That being said, a movie doesn't need to have a message to be effective. A perfect example of this is the newest James Bond flick "Casino Royale." It's a well-made action movie that achieves no worldwide theme or powerful message, but rather presents cool fight scenes and witty dialogue that makes the viewer smile.
Recently I watched the 1927 silent film "The General," starring Buster Keaton. This movie tells the story of a man named Johnny Gray (Keaton) and his fight to regain the love of his dream girl. It's silly and slapstick and has no real importance to it. However, it is fun to watch and provides laughter throughout.
I guess the point that I'm trying to make here is that in a time period of such vast technological landscapes and artistic diversity, bad films seem awful while good films simply remain decent. We expect more, and because of this, are constantly disappointed.
Is American cinema in decline? It's a question that has no straightforward answer. When the question enters my mind, I find comfort in knowing that right now, there is a small, credible indie film for every one liner Bruce Willis will most definitely deliver in "Live Free or Die Hard."
