Tagged: storytelling
It Makes Me Want to Teach
[SPOILER] Good sermons make me want to preach, and good movies make me want to teach.
Gladiator II is good. As I said yesterday, it isn’t that good, but it is good. Here are some areas it missed the mark and which hold it back from ever becoming a “classic”. The areas are remarkable because they are so easy to identify. (High notes will be listed at the end.)
- You must know what your movie is about. Gladiator was not about Rome or Maximus’ wishes for Rome. Gladiator was about the penultimate gladiator—Maximus. (Insert infamous “husband to a…” quote.)
- Never, never, never, never believe you can fool an audience. We’re just too smart. No red-blooded American believes you should give up. Ever. Never give up. The idea that it is noble to peacefully and without resistance enter the after-life is un-American. Do not try to show how it contains value of some sort. “Rage, rage!”
- I saw a clip where Ridley Scott answered a question with, “I just know.” The question was about the leading man. This was way too arrogant. Hollywood and entertainment is far more complex than that. Sure, the leading man—unremarkable as he was and will prove to be—was definitely not a let down. But the whole movie wasn’t as good as it could have been and this is obviously because it rested on “I can’t make a bad movie” reasoning, instead of a good story and good storytelling. We’re not paying to see Ridley Scott. We’re paying to see a good story told well.
- While the movie wasn’t “woke”, it could’ve entered the always available ranks of “timeless” by avoiding some obviously “woke” ideology. Again, this did not have to be the case. Specifically the movie had way too many irrelevant BIPOC characters (and close-ups) that contributed nothing but shades of brown to the screen. To repeat: in great movies everything in the movie must have a purpose and that purpose is to tell the story. In Gladiator, the Black and German slaves were there to make us like Maximus even more. It wasn’t about DEI. It was about Maximus—the gladiator. This leads to the next point.
- We never cared about Lucius. This is because we were forbidden to by the first Gladiator. He had been introduced to us as little more than a spoiled rich kid. I think it would have been possible to care about him if we were shown how. I’m thinking that the story would have had to include some highly skilled and discerning followers or servants of young Lucius accompany him to wherever he goes to hide and resent him for their having to give up court life etc. Then over time they come to respect him and are willing to die for him etc. But there are a lot of difficulties with that concept too, so I’d have to give it more thought. The point is we absolutely cared about Maximus every single second of the film. Seriously, what wasn’t or isn’t there to like?
- The villain was too diffuse. Great movies have one villain and he or she or it is identifiable immediately. Surprises work for thrillers, but Gladiator II did not aim to be a thriller. “Temet Nosce” (know thyself).
- Just like life-making love-making, there can only be one climax in a movie. What is weird about this movie is that it has events which in and of themselves didn’t have to be “climaxes”, but were shot/told/scored as if they were the climax. So you feel spent only to now be disappointed that there was more action coming. Again, it’s a simple mistake that hurt the project.
- The final area I want to mention is something which probably has an industry term—I just don’t know it. It’s best exemplified by Expendables 3. There were all these individual scenes dedicated to each action hero on the squad. But the scenes had no “tie that binds.” Gladiator II similarly introduced many characters with scenes that were well-acted and almost interesting, but their presence diminished the movie, instead of augmenting it. Bluntly, by contrast, I cannot think of a character or scene in Gladiator that didn’t make me like Maximus more than I previously did. Characters offered contrast to Maximus, and scenes fulfilled the role that time does in increasing our desire to see new love, in this case Maximus, again. Gladiator II’s non-Lucius scenes merely confused me while creating an atmosphere wherein I did not want to give myself completely to what I thought the story was. And all this because, say it with me, the director didn’t know what the story was.
To conclude, and to balance, here are the obvious positives.
The opening scenes and battle are evidence of Scott’s greatness. Does anyone do epic better? No. He is without peer. They are masterful. He is the master.
No scene taken by itself is low quality—more evidence of greatness.
The acting is top tier.
And despite it being CGI, the CGI is almost transparent. Pointedly—it is probably the best CGI to date. Good job.
One Sentence Writing Challenge
I’m still in Tolstoy’s short stories. Again, one particular sentence just struck me as perfect. So here’s the challenge: In the below comments, let’s see if we can write with similar excellence. (One sentence.)
The bonfire was extinguished, the forest no longer looked as black as before, but in the sky the stars still shone, though faintly.
****
Here’s my attempt: The young boy stopped running, the city moved even faster, but he still felt her hand in his, though now she did the squeezing.
I Love Filmmaker Michael Mann
He is the absolute best filmmaker ever. Hands down.
My favorite film of all time is Last of the Mohicans. It is probably no coincidence that this is also the first film of his I ever saw, and it might be the first rated R film I ever watched. I know for sure that at the time I didn’t even know his name or, for that matter, that movies were made by different people. While most people I run into shy away from ever choosing their favorite, my training prevents me from fearing and so after much deliberation, to repeat, I proudly pick Last of the Mohicans.
I say all of that to introduce the fact that any movie buffs can imagine my shock when upon completing Heat in college I discovered that in that crime tale–the first time Pacino and De Niro gloriously face-off on film–again, it was Mann at the helm.
My memory is a bit fuzzy at this point, but I think my next it’s-a-small-world-after-all shock was discovering that he created one of my mom’s favorite early-80’s television shows–meaning I’m pretty sure she watched it while I was in the womb–Miami Vice. It shouldn’t take much convincing then that when I heard he was making a stand alone film of Vice, I lost my breath. (“Do you dance?” “I dance.”)
After heading to the local video rental store to get caught up with Thief, Manhunter, and The Insider, Ali marked the first time I saw one of his films in the theater. And you can bet I was first in line for when he teamed up with my raision d’etre, TC, in Collateral.
Naturally, my younger brother is also a big fan. Not as big, but big. So to cap off his bachelor party ski extravaganza he and I went to see Mann’s latest release Blackhat. It has been a long time since I left the theater believing that someone knows how to tell a story to adults. I had hoped Interstellar would end the streak of disappointment, but I have to agree with the masses that while very, very good, it was also a little silly. Not Blackhat.
What makes Mann stand head and shoulders above the competition? Pacing. His pacing. No one else comes close.
Now, we’re all adults here, right? You know how there is a standard line during sex where when in passion’s throes one partner sensually requests that the other develop the bliss a little more competently? When, in a voice that quiets to little more than air rushing by your ear, you hear the plea, “Don’t rush”? Well Mann’s grasp prevents his lover from ever contemplating such a petition. Unlike most other film makers, he is in complete control. There is no doubt that every particularity of every moment is exactly as he wants it. There is no “film by committee” with him. It’s his way or the highway. And Blackhat reminded me of this once again.
Need one more example of how I know he’s the best filmmaker? I know because the previews for his movies are horrible. They are horrible because he doesn’t make previews. He makes movies. He makes motion pictures. He makes art. Could a single measure of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony do that song justice? Or one star in Van Gogh’s Starry Night? No, the answer is no.
In a word, compared to Michael Mann, all other filmmakers are simply salesmen.