Now, you may have figured out a pretty good hustle, banking on the opening weekend crowd to make back most of your budget before people realize your movie's just not worth it. It worked really well for a good long time. But then TV got good. Real good. And video games went from two-minute, three-life diversions to became deep, fully-interactive, rich and immersive stories. Now your little hustle isn't producing like it used to. So, what do you do? MORE! LOUDER! FASTER! SHOCK AND AWE, SHOCK AND AWE, SHOCK AND AWE! (Oh and you gotta see it in 3-DEEEEEEE!)
Please listen to me, Studios, because this is for your own good. People love their stories. They'll turn anything into a story. They'll translate sporting events into stories. They steal their stories, they love them so much. They write their own versions, they love them so much. They tell them around tables and in restaurants and bars, and on playgrounds and in school, and even n their minds while they sleep because they love them so much.
But explosions are not stories. Explosions are brief moments of of empty, albiet spectacular, activity. Robots are not stories. Robots are tools used to do work humans don't want to do. A cool shot or special effect is not in itself a story.
So, in reminding you how to do your jobs, let me ask and try to answer three questions:
1) What is a story?
2) What is entertainment?
3) What is good?
Question #1 may be the easiest to answer. A story is a series of linear events that change a person forever. Sounds simple enough, right?
Question #2 is pretty easy, too. Entertainment is an emotionally satisfying experience. If people step out of their lives for whatever reason - need for escape, a desire to laugh or cry, or simply to pass the time - they want that time to have been spent well. They may not always use these words, but this is always what they're after.
Question #3 is the bitch. It's easy to tell a story and with a little effort, you might get an audience to say, "It was okay. Decent rental." But you need more than that, especially with what it costs to make a movie these days. You need that same guy to come back again and again, to bring his friends and sing to the world about how great this story is. When that guy sits down in a theater he's making a deal with you: "I'm giving you my time. There's only so much time to give. Make my sacrifice worth it. Show me that you thought this through, that you've looked at something real that we all experience and came up with a way of looking at it that actually helps me get through it. Show me who I am in this crazy world and how I can come out of it on top." That's your task no matter what kind of movie you're making...and it's a tall order. So difficult is that to achieve, in fact, that you often look like like you'd rather not even try.
"But, you don't understand. Movies cost so much to make and people aren't going to theaters anymore. We gotta give them something bigger than they can get at home or, to be honest, we'll never make our money back."
Nobody cares.
"But don't you want us to keep making movies?"
Not like this.
"But this is what people pay for!"
They're starving for better but they'll take anything.
"But Man of Steel made $400 million!"
Nobody cares but you.
"People want spectacle. They vote with their dollars."
Not when it's empty spectacle. Then they'll steal off the internet.
"Okay, Smartguy, so you tell me what they want!"
All right, then...
It's not the war, it's the farm boy who thinks he's missing it and the princess who falls for the scoundrel.
It's not the Nazis with the supernatural weapon, it's the archeologist who needs to stop them making it up as he goes.
It's not the shark, it's the three unlikely friends teaming up to hunt it down.
It's not the extraterrestrial, it's the kid who befriends him.
It's not the UFOs, it's the family man who's affected by their contact.
It's not the building with the terrorists, it's the cop who can't believe he has to stop them if he ever wants to patch things up with his wife.
It's not the Mafia, it's the hopes of one father for his favorite son.
All of these movies were blockbusters. All of them broke the hundred million mark in a time when tickets cost a fraction of what they do now. All of them are watched again and again and again in homes. What do they all have in common? Oh, come on, that's an easy one. Fine, I'll tell you. They all have, at their centers, identifiable characters with real human emotions. The spectacle is secondary to the truth. This is what we all want when we settle down in our chairs, alone in the dark, to lose ourselves in a movie. We want to see someone on the screen that is us. We want to see someone going through a problem like ours and we want to see them prevail. Now, whether that takes place in outer space or net to the kitchen sink doesn't matter one bit. What matters is that we can see ourselves in them. What matters is that we can identify. You give them that and you'll make your money. Trust me.
Do you get it now? Somehow, I don't think you do.
- OO
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