Friday, February 1, 2013

Response to Inaugural Poem by Richard Blanco


     This poem by Richard Blanco struck me as a rather soulless attempt at political consolidation.  Blanco seems less like an authentic poet than a focus-tested ploy to seem more open-minded this time around; after having Rick Warren do the benediction last time they needed someone like Blanco, a gay Latino, who could make sure everybody's happy.

     The poem itself is amazingly boring and obvious.  I know that a political moment like this is not the best time for interesting, thought-provoking poetry, but this is particularly egregious in its Pete Seeger Americana pabulum.  It even brings up the Freedom Tower.  This kind of sentimentality strikes me as kind of dangerous, because it makes the inauguration a big mythical moment instead of a political moment that should be taken seriously.  It's fine for us to be proud of ourselves, but this is not 2008.  We can't pretend it was some great mass movement that re-elected the President this time.  By acting as if we are all working together as a nation, waiting to "name a constellation" in perfect harmony, it marginalizes dissent as some kind of anti-Americanism.  It's a complacent poem.

Response to "Untitled" by Ashley Koehl

Very creepy.  Reminds me of the monster from "The Second Coming" by Yeats.

I like the fact that you don't explicate what "it" is... keeps it interesting

"It delights" doesn't really impart any information... in what?  In falling, or mimicking joy?

This sort of anthropomorphism of fear... does it have a purpose?  Does this poem just say, "fear exists?"  It doesn't need a moral or anything, but it should have some point other than describing something.  

Response to "Panic" by Brian Iafolla

I love how grounded and concrete it is.  The verisimilitude allows deeper meaning to blossom instead of forcing it.

Excellent matching of eloquence and complexity with age of the narrator.

If the poem is an exploration of what it is like to have a panic attack, assigning the final line to your brother seems to suggest that you lost track of your metaphor.  Instead of continuing the exploration of what it feels like to panic, it becomes a reminiscence of a trick your brother used to pull.

Some more personal exploration, or introspection, could be useful.

Response to "Untitled" by Garret Miller



Nice texture.  Musical metaphors are well placed

I like the last two lines, with a nice message and departure from the rest of the poem.

"Wasted efforts they'll be" seems a little awkward

The message of the poem might be a little trite:  "Wake up and smell the roses"


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Globalization of the Film Business

 

 In the Golden Age of Hollywood there were cinemas in almost every town, even my tiny hometown of Pamplico, South Carolina. If you were to visit it today, however, you would discover an empty building. This experience is common enough now, but it will soon become epidemic. This is due to a variety of factors: the shrinking middle class, the advent of digital projection which has high upfront costs small town cinemas can't afford, and the popularity of home theater movie viewing. One of the main causes, however, is the different way studios try to make profits now, which has much to do with globalization.

     Let's take a look at the box office numbers of some iconically successful movies. The Godfather (Coppola, 1972) is considered one of the greatest films of all time and is archetypal of the Hollywood New Wave. 55% of its box office was domestic, i.e. from America, the rest of the profits coming from the world market (1). Compare this to Avatar (Cameron, 2009), the current highest-grossing film of all time and a nominee for Best Picture. A full 72% of its grosses were from foreign markets (2).  The lessons studios are taking from data like this are: whatever qualities Avatar has are more palatable to foreign markets, and foreign markets constitute a majority of profits in this day and age.

      Many would argue that this trend began after Jaws (Spielberg, 1975), but studios still made much of their profits from domestic gross back then (2)(3).  The release of Jaws and then later Star Wars (Lucas, 1978) proved that simultaneous wide release and merchandising were effective means to maximizing profits, but they still relied on Americans to watch American films.  Thus they could rely on complicated, nuanced films to reach their intended audiences.

     What are the differences between The Godfather and Avatar?  The Godfather is infused with American themes, is heavily concerned with American problems, and has nuances that only American audiences can pick up.  Avatar is a fairly universal story of bad guys versus good guys, featuring immense and expensive spectacle that doesn't need much translation or localization.  Movies like Avatar are becoming the tentpoles of the studios' financial reports.  Making movies that aren't like it is seeming less and less like a fiscally good idea.  However, that means that movies like The Godfather, with substantial budgets and relatively small profits despite the prestige, will no longer be produced.  They don't translate well to foreign audiences.

     In the 1970s, directors like Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and Robert Altman were creating unique and intelligent films within the studio system.  Every decade since seemed to birth a new generation of directors to reinvent or evolve cinema: in the 1980s Michael Mann, James Cameron, and John Hughes defined the atmosphere of the Reagan years, and in the 1990s Paul Thomas Anderson, Wes Anderson and Gus Van Sant brought their personalities to the cineplex.  However, with the 2000s, things seem to have changed.  The only name that comes to mind that may join these directors in the pantheon of the greats is Jason Reitman.  What could explain this deficit of new talent in the last decade?

      The answer is, studios are no longer willing to take chances on untested talent.  The old guard of proven talent like Mann and Wes Anderson are allowed to make their own movies, provided they can work under restricted budgets and don't expect wide release if there isn't a star name attached.  But don't expect Paramount to give the keys to the lot to a novice like Francis Ford Coppola again.  The only way to break into this system now is to produce something loud enough and spectacular enough that it can be sold overseas, as demonstrated by Christopher Nolan and most recently by Josh Trank, director of Chronicle.  They have managed to preserve some intelligence and nuance despite working in genres that demand simplicity and bombast.  This may be the only avenue of success for the American filmmaker with aspirations to work in the studio system.

     The most exciting things in  cinema are now happening underground, or ironically, overseas.  Places like South Korea and Hong Kong are now taking the reins, and the vitality of their film scenes rival America's in the 1970s.  It is comforting, at least, to think that somewhere in the world talent is being allowed to stretch its wings.  








1.  “The Godfather (1972) - Box Office Mojo.” Box Office Mojo. Web. 10 Apr. 2012.

2.    Avila, Michael. “‘Jaws’ 35th Anniversary: How Jaws Changed Summer Movie Blockbusters -    CSMonitor.com.” The Christian Science Monitor. Newspaper. 18 June 2010. Web. 10 Apr. 2012.

3.   “Jaws (1975) - Box Office Mojo.” Box Office Mojo. Web. 10 Apr. 2012.





Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Effect of the International Market on Cinema

The art of cinema is in one of its deepest valleys.  Take a look at the previous history of film:  it began as a curio for gawking fair-goers and evolved into the most popular artform in the country.  Scholars argue over when film reached its apotheosis, with a large percentage saying the 1970s New Hollywood and others saying the Golden Age of the studio system.  Some even say that the Expressionistic silent years represented the peak of the format.  Most would agree, however, that the past decade represents a nadir.

It is helpful to lay out what has contributed to a healthy cinema before.  When America had a strong middle class and a vibrant economy, cinema flourished.  People had money to spend on films and studios could make substantial profits catering to many different kinds of audiences, because most people went to the theater, and they went several times a month.  However, the one-two punch of Star Wars and Jaws proved that a single tentpole production could put a studio in the black for the entire year, and provide revenues through merchandising and sequels far into the future.

More importantly, films like Star Wars especially were so spectacular that they communicated on a universal level. The nuances of dialogue and culture could be elided because the audiences were so wowed that they payed no attention anyway.  Thus a movie like Star Wars could be readily sold to the international market without worrying about localization.  The studios, realizing that the massive profits of these films were largely foreign, began to tailor their schedules to place tentpole spectacles in the summer months and shove all the character-driven, "prestige pictures" to the end of the year.

Unfortunately, the studios are using a calculus that alienates a huge portion of the domestic American market.  The money men have determined that the only surefire audience is the under-25 male demographic, because they are undiscriminating and free with their money.  Females are too hard to maket towards and plus, at least in the minds of the studio executives, they only like movies that are impossible to sell to the foreign market.  The same goes for people over 25.  They want to see movies with intelligence and subtlety, both qualities difficult to translate.

It is in this way that the influence of the world market has destroyed cinema.  It has increased the value of empty spectacle and degraded the worth of smart, character-driven drama.  Movies like The Godfather or Chinatown, which were supported by a big studio with relatively large budgets, are a dying breed because their qualities are difficult to express outside of America.