Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Unoriginal narrative structures, is this really a core issue?



Despite my undying (and probably unhealthy) admiration for the filmmaker James Cameron, a lot of the time I can agree with the negative opinions that people make about his work. His most recent films – Avatar (2009) and Titanic (1997) – have often been the victim of critical assault from all over the globe. When people talk of these films as being overly bloated, suffering from corny dialogue and possessing too many flat characters, I can’t really argue with them without coming across as a deluded fanboy (though these characteristics don’t diminish the enjoyment of these two films for me).

Yet one criticism about Avatar which has perplexed me somewhat is the constant attack on the films originality. “Avatar is just Dancing with Wolves in space!” is the most common response that people make after being asked why they loathe it so much.

Now I’m not saying that Avatar doesn’t borrow (or steal) elements from the Kevin Costner film Dances with Wolves (1990), in fact, I think it does. Dances with Wolves is a film about a Western soldier who’s exiled to a native land, where he befriends a group of native Americans and grows intolerable toward the military which he once worked for. Avatar is a film about a paraplegic marine who’s exiled to an alien planet, where he befriends a group of indigenous life forms and grows intolerable toward the colonising military that are bulldozing their planet.

Both films sound almost identical when you put them up against one another, but it does not make them the same story. They may both stem from the same narrative concept – the idea of an outsider befriending the natives and rising against the empire from which they once came – but both films are still worlds apart. Avatar simply takes this structure and adds a new twist to it (It’s Dances with Wolves, but set on an alien world with humans piloting alien bodies).

Taking narrative structures from pre-existing stories and adding a new twist to them is nothing new. One example of this takes place in many of the teen films from recent times. A large portion of these teen-movies were, in fact, the retellings of many famous plays and novels. 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) was a retelling of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew; Clueless (1994) is a reinvention of Jane Austen’s Emma; Cruel Intentions (1999) was an adaptation of the Pierre Choderlos de Laclos and Ernest Dowson novel Dangerous Liaisons; and She’s the Man (2006) is a remake of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night*.

Teen films are not the only movies to borrow from pre-existing narratives. The Lion King (1994) retold the tale of Shakespeare’s Hamlet; Independence Day (1995) was an indirect remake of War of the Worlds; A.I. Artificial Intelligence (1999) borrowed much of its narrative from Pinocchio; and even Alien (1979) has always commonly been refferred to as ‘Jaws in Space’.

To go even further into the world of cloning stories for entertainment, think of all the direct remakes that overshadow the originals without too much criticism. The Thing (1982), The Fly (1986), Oceans 11 (2001), The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) and Scarface (1983) are often more talked about and remembered than their original counterparts are.

Some of the films that I’ve mentioned above are critically accepted, whereas some of them are not. Yet I’ve never heard of people attacking them for their lack of originality.

All works of art must have been inspired from things which came before them. This allows art to evolve and grow. Just because something takes the elements and characteristics from something that existed before it does not necessarily make it a bad thing.  Art inspires the imagination and motivates individuals into producing their own works, whether we are talking about music, films, books, paintings, or any other medium that exists out there.

So is borrowing the elements, characteristics and narratives of pre-existing works really what make some films bad? Maybe I’m being ignorant. Maybe if someone decided to borrow elements from something I’d created without asking, I too would see the problems in unoriginality.

Do the audiences of cinema really have an issue with features being unoriginal? Then again, looking at the endless armies of reboots, remakes, adaptations, sequels and prequels coming out in today’s cinema, and looking at the healthy $2.8 billion profit that Avatar made, maybe no one else really gives a hoot.

Thursday, 21 June 2012

The Ideologies of Woody Allen


Several weeks ago, I decided to treat myself by attempting a Woody Allen marathon (yes, that is my idea of a treat…). The aim was to watch as many of his films as is humanely possible in one week (I had a lot of free time before the uni term ended). Now for those who aren’t familiar with Allen’s overall film archive, he’s made a lot of them. He’s probably directed more films than I’ve watched in my entire lifetime (I don’t know if that says more about Allen’s consistency as a filmmaker or my lack of cine-literacy).

I decided by starting at the very end of his CV and working my way back through his features. I began with a Midnight in Paris (2011) and regressed back to Crimes and Misdemeanours (1989). Despite thoroughly enjoying a large majority of his works, I began to notice that his ideologies were beginning to have an effect on my worldly outlook.

Anyone who’s ever laid eyes upon a feature directed by this filmmaker will know full well that his narratives often revolve around neurotic and nihilistic characters attempting to get through their day-to-day lives whilst struggling to co-exist with their nearest and dearest, who also happen to be neurotic and nihilistic.

These self-obsessed and universe-loathing characters are prevalent throughout pretty much most of his movies; often appearing in the form of the protagonist (fairly often played by Allen himself) commonly expressing their pessimistic ideologies by delivering a monologue that habitually takes up about four or five pages of the films screenplay.

Another recurring Allen theme is that people cheat; and boy, do they cheat a lot.  It doesn’t matter if you’re young, old, smart, stupid, healthy, unwell, rich, deprived, happy, depressed, successful, failing, loved, hated, male or female; every kind of individual is desperate to get their end away with a lover who happens to not be their spouse.

I admit that I was nihilistic and neurotic long before evening hearing about a Woody Allen movie, so that aspect of my persona hasn’t altered in the slightest; yet I’m now convinced – since ending this weekly marathon – that love will never ever have a happy ending and that I’m destined to experience a future of inevitable boredom and infidelity.
But at least I enjoyed the films, so it’s not all doom and gloom.

Woody Allen films viewed so far:
A Midnight in Paris (2011) 4/5 Stars
Match Point (2005) 4/5 Stars
Anything Else (2003) 2/5 Stars
Hollywood Ending (2002) 3/5 Stars
You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger (2010) 3/5 Stars
Cassandra’s Dream (2007) 2/5 Stars
Scoop (2006) 3/5 Stars
The Curse of Jade the Scorpion (2001) 2/5 Stars
Small Time Crooks (2000) 3/5 Stars
Sweet and Lowdown (1999) 4/5 Stars
Deconstructing Harry (1997) 4/5 Stars
Everyone Says I love you (1996) 4/5 Stars
Mighty Aphrodite (1995) 4/5 Stars
Bullets over Broadway (1994) 4/5 Stars
Manhattan Murder Mystery (1993) 3/5 Stars
Husbands and Wives (1992) 3/5 Stars
Shadows and Fog (1991) 2/5 Stars
Alice (1990) 2/5 Stars
Crimes and Misdemeanours (1989) 4/5 Stars
Stardust Memories (1980) 3/5 Stars
Manhattan (1979) 4/5 Stars
Annie Hall (1977) 4/5 Stars

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

Prometheus: A slight disappointment, but deserves more credit


***Spoilers Ahead*** 

PLOT
During the final years of the 21st century, the crew of a star ship named Prometheus use a star-map – discovered by archaeologists – in an attempt to make contact with a group of life forms believed to be the engineers of mankind.

REVIEW
It is said that you should never overhype a film before its release. The reason for this is because, naturally, the final feature will never be as wonderful as initially envisioned within the mind’s eye (but then if that really is the case, then what’s the point in paying to see a movie if you can dream up a better one for free?).  

For me, this whole overhyping conundrum has seldom been a problem. The last time I went to the cinema with high expectations – only to leave dissatisfied – was back in the summer of 2006 after seeing the abysmal X-men: The Last Stand. Yet all the blockbusters that I endlessly overhyped from then onwards (one example being The Dark Knight) have been an absolute joy to watch.

Yet after seeing Prometheus, I left the cinema feeling that sensation of disappointed wash over me for the first time in many years. My main problem was that I naively went in expecting a film which matched Alien, but obviously, that was never really going to happen.

If you visit the IMDB website, you’ll notice that many other viewers have also expressed great dissatisfaction toward this film; yet despite my opinions above, I actually think some of these users have been a tad too ruthless in several of their judgements. I say this because I didn’t actually dislike Prometheus; in fact, I thought it was a pretty decent and entertaining feature. I mean sure, it did have a hell of a lot of flaws, and the critics are right in saying that the narrative falls apart somewhat during the final hour, but it’s still far better than many are making it out to be.

My main reason for believing this is because that I think that Prometheus does something which many contemporary sci-fi blockbusters fail to do these days; which is that it makes great use of ambiguity within its narrative. Instead of giving us a straightforward and painstakingly explained plot, this film requires us to fill in many of the narrative’s gaps for ourselves.

Many people are attacking the film for not answering enough questions, particularly becoming annoyed at the fact that the film never explains how the ancient star-maps initially arrived on earth (I mean why did the Engineers show ancient civilisations where their military bases were if they planned to use them against us?); that the life-cycle of the [bio-weapon] creatures is far too unclear/nonsensical; that the hostile motives of the Engineers is never clearly explained; and that there’s no account as to how the Engineers or Xenomorphs make it from LV-223 to LV-426 in time for Alien (although director Ridley Scott has announced two more potential sequels).  I can empathise with people who are dissatisfied with the lack of explanation, however, I quite enjoyed being allowed to fill in these plot gaps for myself, without having being told explicitly where all of the narratives pieces are suppose to go.  

The narrative of Prometheus reminded me to some extent of the film Source Code (2011). When Source Code first begins, the audience has little knowledge on the events of the story. As the narrative progresses, we begin to develop a much greater understanding of the initial premise. Yet as one plot ambiguity is explained, more questions force their way into the story.  

We soon understand that Colter Stevens is involved in a programme known as the Source Code project and that his mission is to locate the bomber of a commuter train whilst occupying the consciousness of another man during his final eight minutes of life; but as soon as we realise this, the plot changes in shape. Now audiences are wondering why Stevens is involved in such a project; what the consequences are if Stevens alters history during this eight minute window; and whether or not Stevens can continue to occupy the identity of this man if he survives beyond these final eight minutes.   Source Code’s narrative is so fluid in its behaviour that it begins its life as a whodunit sci-fi thriller, only to end as a film that questions the ethics of time travel and tangent realities. It grows from a single lined premise into something far grander in scale.

Prometheus – in my opinion –is similar in its nature. It begins as a film about a group of archaeologists journeying to meet their creators, only to end with the story’s hero sailing off into the stars, determined to discover why her inventors wish to wipe her race out. Instead of looking at this climax as a messy and poorly executed story, maybe we could view it as a metaphor for the pursuit of human origin. Countless humans have strived to discover the meaning behind their existence – be it through religion, philosophy, or science – only to discover more questions and mysteries are waiting along the way. Maybe if we view Prometheus as an analogy for this human conundrum – as well as an analogy for the obscurities of our universe – then maybe we can learn to see this film from an entirely new perspective.

Rating: 3/5 Stars