5 Reasons Films Are Getting Better (Or, Are Old Films Getting Worse?)

This is a question that’s been bothering me for ages now. I have tended not to bring it up too much in general conversation, for the simple fact that it sounds like such a stupid thing to say. I have a Masters Degree in Film Studies, but bringing this topic up makes people look at me like a child who eats crayons.

But hear me out.

Are films getting better? Much better than older films? I mean, in pretty much every sense? Before you answer, consider the following :

1. Film is becoming a universally available and easily producible medium. Digital technology means that anyone with a camcorder and a pc can put their mini-opus together. Of course, that means a whole load of crap is produced, but for people with the ideas and the ingenuity, the opportunities to make your film is there. (The Blair Witch Project, Supersize Me etc)

2. We have seen some amazing films in the last decade. Just think of The Sixth Sense, Fight Club, American Beauty, Lord Of The Rings, The Matrix, Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, LA Confidential, Saving Private Ryan, The Big Lebowski, The Prestige, Donnie Darko, The Departed…. I could go on. People talk about the Forties and the Seventies as “Golden Ages” of film; the fact is that we’ve been enjoying a Golden Age of film since about 1990, one that shows no signs of letting up.

3. Acting is getting better. Yes, it is. Granted, Marlon Brando and the Method school ushered in a vast sea-change in the art, but can you really tell me that there is any comparison between the stilted hamming of the 30’s and 40’s and the naturality of say, Edward Norton or De Niro?

4. Special effects. CGI is allowing directors to create images, nay, worlds from their imaginations. Compare the opening scene of Peter Jackson’s “Lord Of The Rings” to Ralph Bakshi’s 1978 disastrous version, purely in visual terms.

Jackson:

j

Bakshi:

j

There’s no comparison, right?

j

5. I think that a lot of older movies get more respect than they deserve solely because they’ve got a few decades on them; they can sport that miasma of age that seems to render them untouchable. For instance, I watched James Whale’s 1931 “Frankenstein” recently. This is considered a horror classic, and created the modern image of Frankenstein’s monster as a lumbering flat-top, bolt-neck behemoth (the image is still under the copyright of Universal Pictures). It also features the famous line, “It’s alive! It’s alive!” (voted the #49 movie quote of all time by the American Film Institute).

Frankenstein:

But, despite all of this, I thought the movie was pretty crap. I’m a big fan of Mary Shelley’s book, and I was appalled to see that the film discarded that story almost completely. The placement of American actors with thick American accents in the roles of German characters was atrocious. The tacked-on happy ending was painful. If that movie was made today, it would be a straight-to-video bottom-shelfer. All in all, I think that Kenneth Branagh’s 1994 version is leagues ahead of that version; it is far more subtle, believable and retains much more of the book’s poignant Oedipal themes.

But try saying that to any “serious” film fan or critic. I think I can safely say that if they don’t implode on the spot, they will subject you to a tirade of vitriol based mainly on the dogmatic clout of the film’s age.

(By the way, I have listened to film lecturers tell me that American Beauty is “implausible”, Lord Of The Rings is “juvenile”, and Titanic is “unwatchable”. I can tell you right now that if any of those films had been released 50 years ago – special effects notwithstanding – academics would today consider them cinematic landmarks. And in 50 years’ time, they will. But in academic circles at least, they haven’t earned their chronological kudos quite yet.)

The obvious counterargument is that movies are always made within the context of their times. And that our modern movies wouldn’t be here without them. Well, that’s true. But why, then, are there many older movies that totally transcend their times and context; that instead of being just a rung towards greatness, skip the queue and just are great? For example, “The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari” (1920) or “Nosferatu” (1922) were hugely popular films when they released, and still stand as amazing horror films. They are subtle, creepy and beautiful – and in a different league totally to the American “Frankenstein”.

What I mean to propose is this….. What if more films are doing this today? What if more movies are simply obviating the constraints of context, passing “go” and hitting greatness? This may be a result of the sheer number of films being made. It may be because of studios becoming more liberal and independent. It may be because of the general freedom of information today as opposed to even a few decades ago. But the situation remains that we are, at least relatively speaking, being inundated with truly great films, and the trend doesn’t seem to be about to stop.

I will leave you with the immortal words of Peter Griffin: “I did not care for the Godfather….”

Why “300” Is Completely Historically Accurate

“300” kicks ass.

It rocks, man. Ancient wars are always cool, but watching 300 Spartan warriors knock the shit out of an entire Persian army on the screen was just exhilarating. Boring people may complain that it is a childish and peurile representation of what was a historically important battle; that its bright, beautiful CGI backdrops and colours are chewing gum for the eyes (“Oh no thanks Ted, I have these crisps here…”). And to an extent, that’s true. The images were astonishing, sometimes preposterous, yet always arresting.

But people who argue that the tale has been merely over-simplified are missing the point. As the creator of the original graphic novel, Frank Miller, says in the ‘making of’ the film, the tale has been told and changed a thousand times since the event itself. It was the oral tradition of the Greeks that kept the story of Leonidas and his troops alive long before it was written down. This is a trait universal to virtually all ancient cultures. The Celts shared this beautiful art of verbal storytelling; their chroniclers were called seanchais, and their skill was celebrated and cultivated as a valuable method for disseminating information.

In creating the graphic novel that retold the ancient story of the 300, Miller sought not to convey every detail of the ancient cultures, nor the full political complexities of what the battle represented. Instead, he distilled it to its essence; it was a democracy (the Spartans) versus a dictatorship (Xerxes and the Persians); individual freedom versus the antiquated idea of the all-powerful God-King. In doing so, he took on the mantle of the Seanchai, telling the basic story accurately but filling in the blanks with rich, powerful illustrations designed to sear themselves – and the basic moral message of the tale – into the reader’s memory. 

The film version of the graphic novel is simply another extension of that. In fact, it could be argued that it is more effective as a retelling, in that it is full of actual movement, the kinetic energy of battle. Plus, it can be experienced collectively, a bunch of people sitting around, watching and hearing the story of the 300, just as people used to gather round the hearth to hear the Seanchai tell stories of Cuchulainn, the Fianna etc. When we watch the new rendering of the story of the 300, with all it’s fantastical characters, we are watching the evolution of any great story; we can see how it changes to keep modern audiences rapt, but without losing the spirit of the piece.

Ok, so the artistic licence is sometimes extreme. We meet monsters, giants, dastardly villains and brave heroes. But so many great stories have these things – including the Bible (that would be Leviathan, Goliath, Judas and Jesus, respectively).

The point is that the essence of the story is conveyed effectively; that good stands up against evil. If we come away from the movie feeling exhilarated and moved by the power of the experience, then that is more historically accurate and indeed, more respectful than any amount of elaborate, convoluted text or film that leaves behind the spirit of the event.