Everything's a mashup

When, according to some folks, pop music became stale and needed to be revitalized, along came mashups. Mashups took two very different songs, possibly even from different genres, and combined them to forge something thrilling and new.

Now, it looks like Hollywood has judged that movies have become stale, and they're trying to do the same thing.

I finally added to the impressive coffers of The Hunger Games last night, and I could have devoted today's post to discussing my thoughts on it. But that's not really what you come here to read. So instead, I want to talk about movie mashups, since I saw trailers for three of them last night. (It helped that I also saw two movies, sneaking into Casa de Mi Padre after Hunger Games finished up.)

It seems like Hollywood is really into reenacting those old Reese's Peanut Butter Cups ads these days. You know the ones -- "Hey, you got chocolate in my peanut butter!" "Hey, you got peanut butter in my chocolate!" If the trailers I saw last night are any indication, cinematic peanut butter is getting mixed with movie chocolate left and right, as unfamiliar genres are shaking hands, placing their faith in each other and hoping for the best.

Let's examine the trailers I saw last night ...

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, directed by Timur Bekmambetov
Basic idea: Before Abraham Lincoln was president of the United States, he fought vampires.
Genres mashed: Historical epic/biopic and vampire movie
Will it work? The trailer looks fun as hell. However, I have come to distrust Bekmambetov since not particularly liking the last four features in which he was involved: Apollo 18 (producer), 9 (producer), Wanted (director) and Day Watch (director). In fact, the thrilling Night Watch is now starting to feel like a distant memory. Perhaps returning to vampires is just what little Timmy Bekmambetov needs to win us back over to his side.

Dark Shadows, directed by Tim Burton
Basic idea: A man cursed to live as a vampire in 1752 wakes up in the 1970s.
Genres mashed: Seventies movie and vampire movie
Will it work? I think this one looks fun too, even though I distrust Burton far more than I distrust Bekmambetov. (Coincidentally, Burton is a producer on Abraham Lincoln.) There's something I like about the anachronistic vampire played by Johnny Depp -- anachronistic both because he's a supernatural creature, and because he lived in a different time -- interfacing with television and listening to Tom Jones. So even though Burton and Depp have worked together more times than any other duo in cinematic history (exaggeration), I'm looking forward to this one in part because it's also a property I was not previously familiar with -- a big change for Burton.

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, directed by Lorene Scafaria
Basic idea: Weeks before an asteroid will end life on earth, a man (Steve Carell) seeks out his childhood sweetheart with the help of his neighbor (Keira Knightley).
Genres mashed: Apocalypse movie and romantic comedy
Will it work? I sure hope it does. I love the idea of examining what human beings would do in the end of days from an absurdist, comedic perspective. The trailer is chock full of comedic gold. Example: Carell tells his maid it's not really necessary for her to come back ... ever. But she doesn't seem to understand that concept. The only thing checking my enthusiasm is the fact that Scafaria is primarily associated with Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, which she wrote. I hated that movie.

The other trailers were all a bit more standard, though I must say, that G.I. Joe: Retaliation trailer filled me with a huge amount of optimism as well.

So three trailers for three mashup movies that look very promising. Is it just that I'm a sucker for trailers in general, and almost every movie seems like it could be good when you just see the trailer? Or are mashups really the way to breathe life back into moribund genres that have been repeatedly picked over? And I know there are more on the horizon ... Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, also written by Abraham Lincoln writer Seth Grahame-Smith, is supposed to be made into a film, even though it's had some problems getting into production.

Or maybe what I'm identifying is not really a true phenomenon. Maybe what I'm seeing is only a variation on the Hollywood mandate to "put an original spin" on such and such reliable cinematic chestnut. Maybe what I'm identifying as mashups are really just injections of creative spirit into tired entities. After all, you could expand this argument outward and say that Hollywood doesn't want to make anything unless it can figure out that small way that a thing is different from similar things that came before. I'm not saying Hollywood wants to take risks -- Hollywood in general is pretty risk averse. I am saying that even the least courageous studio executives realize they can't serve up the exact same dish as they served up last week -- something has to be different. And maybe those "differences" is what I'm describing as "mashups."

In any case, I don't know why I should have any confidence at all given the unqualified failure of last year's big mashup movie. If you want a prototypical example of a movie mashup, look no further than Cowboys and Aliens. It was a western mixed with a movie about aliens. And boy did it stink.

But something tells me that at least one of the three chocolate-peanut butter combos mentioned above will taste pretty sweet.

John Carter had me at "hello," lost me at "how are you?"

When I hunger for new cinematic visions that seem to represent a clear departure from things I've seen previously, John Carter is the kind of movie I think of.

Or so I thought from the first trailer, anyway.

Here's that first trailer:



Of course, everything that was minimalist, ominous and visionary about this first trailer felt pedestrian in the trailer I saw last week, before either Tintin or War Horse.

Here's that trailer:



Now I think it just seems like any other gladiator movie, any other ripoff of Star Wars, with one shot that seems like a ripoff of Avatar (which itself was a ripoff of oh-so-many things).

So I don't know where I stand with respect to John Carter. Am I excited to see it? Watching that first trailer again just now, I felt so. Watching the second trailer again reminded me that I might not be.

I think it gets at the difference between a teaser (which, even at 1:45, the first trailer essentially is) and a trailer (which tells you more of what the movie is essentially about). And so that explains the title of this post, which you thought was just a clever riff on the oh-so-current cultural reference, Jerry Maguire.

See, the teaser is kind of a "hello." It says "Hi, I'm a thing. You may or may not have known I was a thing, but this footage is designed to give you that knowledge and get you a little excited." A teaser is great, because it leaves open the possibility that the movie could go in so many different directions from what you're seeing. How skillful, for example, to give us the detail that this man started in 19th century England before ending up on Mars. That bit of information is meant to give you the Keanu "Whoa" reaction.

However, once the full trailer is revealed, it can no longer hide what it's about. That's the "how are you" -- literally, how is the movie. How do those images we've seen coalesce into a story.

And that's where John Carter appears to trip. Clearly, Disney thought its best bet to get a big audience on the first weekend (still almost two months off) would be to highlight the movie's action. You'll notice that 19th century London makes no appearance whatsoever in the second trailer -- that only confuses people who came for an action movie.

But what we're left with is a bunch of lame Star Wars prequel stuff, including gladiator footage that seems to be right out of Attack of the Clones (that was the movie where they fought in an arena while chained up, right?). Then there's a bit of warmed-over Braveheart ("He will fight for us!") or any of the countless movies that involve a rallying speech to an underdog army.

I guess I'm giving away the change in my excitement level by the poster I chose to accompany this post. If I'd still been in giddy-teaser-phase, I might have led with this poster, which is even listed as the "teaser poster" in the file name (I hadn't consciously realized there was such a thing, but it makes as much marketing sense as a teaser trailer):


Oh, how I long for those days when John Carter could still have been about anything.

John Carter seemed to have the cross-genre potential of a movie like Cowboys & Aliens, where elements of our past and elements of a science fiction future fit together naturally in a way that both expands and blows our mind.

Oops, except Cowboys & Aliens didn't pull that off, either.

Here's hoping John Carter pulls it off better than Cowboys & Aliens. If it doesn't, not only will it fail to be the first awesome movie of 2012, but it may not even be worth watching on video.

Straight to the point

I thought up the idea for Cowboys & Aliens about ten years before producer Steven Spielberg, director Jon Favreau or the seven credited writers ever did.

(You don't have to mention this to them. I'm not planning to sue or anything.)

Except in my version of the story, the aliens were attacking during Revolutionary War times. There was something about the image of early Americans frantically reloading muskets while aliens wiped them out that appealed to me. Of course, the Americans would have to win in the end, but in the meantime, there would be a lot of powdered wigs blown off of a lot of heads.

Of course, their idea is better. By using cowboys, not only do you have better weapons that are easier to load, but you've also got an actual established genre: the western. Besides, Cowboys & Aliens is a much catchier title than Minutemen & Aliens.

"Catchy" may not be the word for Cowboys & Aliens as a title, actually. "Straight to the point" might be a better way to describe it.

That's right, the title of today's big release is all concept and no poetry. This is not necessarily a bad thing -- it's just funny. It tells you exactly the idea behind the movie without any pesky metaphors or abstractions to get in the way. "If cowboys and aliens occupied the same territory in the space-time continuum, this movie is what you would get." Almost like the title was a placeholder until they came up with the real title, and they just ended up keeping it. If all movies followed this bare bones title philosophy, a movie like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind would be called Memory Erasers. And many of us wouldn't have gone and seen it.

But it really works here, I think. It gives the movie a bit of a kitschy, B-movie feel, one that helps rather than hurts its cause. It tells me about what to expect from Cowboys & Aliens -- a fun summer ride that isn't going to be too deep. But not in a bad way.

So it got me thinking of other titles that leave no room for nuance, that get straight to the point of what the movie is about. Now, in a way, that's the primary goal of any title -- you want something memorable that will give the viewer a good idea what they have in store. And so a lot of movies do this in some way or another. But not that many of them do it in such funny, obvious ways as Cowboys & Aliens. Sure, the title Nixon is straight to the point -- you're seeing a movie about Richard Nixon. It works a lot better than Not a Crook or Corruption or Impeached or any other title they could have come with for a movie about Richard Nixon. But it's not funny, and that's the big difference.

So, I've come up with a list of titles that do strike me as funny in some way, because they totally eschew any sense of subtlety in communicating what the movie is about. Ten seems like a nice round number, don't you think?

10. Hot Tub Time Machine. "This movie involves a hot tub that functions as a time machine." Yep.

9. Four Weddings and a Funeral. And all the action will take place within the course of these five events.

8. Three Men and a Baby. "There are three men taking care of a baby, and shenanigans ensue."

7. Walking and Talking. I almost didn't include this one because it's actually sort of abstract -- you don't necessarily know what it's about just from the title. However, once you've seen the movie, you realize it distills the essence of an independent movie: people walking around and having conversations.

6. Monsters vs. Aliens. I sort of think of this as the template Cowboys & Aliens used.

5. Zombie Strippers. "Strippers become zombies, and shenanigans ensue."

4. Love & Basketball. "This movie is going to have some love, and it's going to have some basketball. If you like those two things, you should see it."

3. Hobo With a Shotgun. "A homeless guy has a shotgun, and shenanigans ensue."

2. 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag. What more do you need to know? I guess how they got there might be of interest.

And of course, #1 ...

1. Snakes on a Plane. Yep.

Would love to hear any you might like to add ...

Sound the alarm

At a certain point, a phenomenon becomes so widespread that you just have to comment on it on your blog.

When I saw the trailer for Rise of the Planet of the Apes yesterday, that moment arrived.

The phenomenon I'm speaking of is the use of the "biohazard alarm" in trailers for action/effects blockbusters. And there's a reason it's getting used all the time -- it's damn effective. If you weren't already psyched for the movie, the biohazard alarm triggers an immediate sense of the movie's prospective awesomeness.

If you don't know what I'm talking about when I refer to the "biohazard alarm," watch this trailer and you should immediately get it. You won't need me to tell you this, but the sound I'm talking about kicks in at 1:15.



Where else have I seen it? How about here:



Or here:



And here as well. (It's at 1:02, since this one is a bit longer.)



And I'm sure there were others. These were just the ones I could think of off the top of my head. I think I also heard it in ... yep, I think I heard it in the Something Borrowed trailer as well. The biohazard alarm is officially everywhere.

Ordinarily, my stance on any technique that gets used repeatedly in cinema would be to chastise it, to accuse those people who repeatedly use it of laziness. But not here. See, the biohazard alarm never wears out its welcome. It never ceases to be chilling. As far as noises are concerned, it's the be-all, end-all indication that shit is already beyond fucked up.

And because it's not exactly the same biohazard alarm every time, it's newly arresting every time. Sometimes it's more like the game show buzzer they used in Family Feud (Apes), but sometimes it's more of a whooping sound, like a fire alarm (Transformers). But in all instances, the biohazard alarm is recognizable as such because its eerie sounds come at the same interval, and are about the same length. And in all instances it's used for the same purpose: Get out now. "EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY. CONDITION NO LONGER NORMAL."

And in all instances elicits this response from the viewer: "Ho-lee shit."

Mission more than accomplished.

And I can say it was certainly accomplished in Rise of the Planet of the Apes. When I first heard there was going to be another Planet of the Apes movie this summer, I thought "Really? They're resuscitating that franchise again?" But having seen the trailer, I've entirely changed my tune. Not only am I digging the CG apes, but they're totally badass and have major destruction on their minds. Since we know what happens later on in this chronology, we know that these apes will stop at nothing until they've vanquished the human race. Sign me up.

And yeah, I think it may have been just about 1:15 into that trailer when my mind shifted from "Maybe ..." to "YES!!"

Bring on the contamination. Bring on the hurt.

I'm ready. Sound the alarm.

Every movie that hasn't come out yet is awesome

I mean, isn't that kind of the secret behind trailers in general, and trailers seen during the Super Bowl in particular?

As film fans, we are eternal optimists. The mere fact that a movie hasn't come out yet means that it is filled with unlimited potential. And if they've done a half-competent trailer -- which they usually have -- it's easy to believe those images could coalesce into The Best Movie You've Ever Seen.

Which is why even movies that we know will be bad -- such as Transformers: Dark of the Moon -- look like they might just be awesome, when offered up to us during the Super Bowl.

I usually don't watch as much of the Super Bowl as I expect to watch -- I tend to focus on the eating and the drinking and the socializing with friends. My friend Daddy Geek Boy and his wife kill themselves each year making all sorts of gourmet appetizers for us, rarely if ever repeating the same ones from year to year, and with the baby, I don't get to see these friends as regularly as I used to. So I miss the game and the commercials just about equally, though I try to pay attention during the commercials if I have the presence of mind. (And anything I miss, I can catch later, either online or on my DVR recording of the game.)

So I caught only a few snippets of this year's ads -- it's a pretty distracting environment full of kids, so even if I'm paying attention, I can only hear half of the dialogue in the ads.

But with the movie ads, all you're really going for is the images in the ads, right?

And because of the principle described above -- "every movie that hasn't come out yet is awesome" -- it's easy to dream ourselves away into the possibilities of those images.

Like when some alien probe is firing on the buildings of an American city in Transformers.

Like when Daniel Craig jumps onto an alien craft with four sets of wings in Cowboys & Aliens.

Like when there's some kind of mushroom cloud explosion in the distance in Thor.

Do I have high hopes for any of these movies? Cowboys & Aliens, maybe -- the others, nah. But on Super Bowl Sunday, anything is possible.

On Super Bowl Sunday, making a fifth Fast & the Furious movie (Fast Five) or a fourth Pirates of the Caribbean movie (On Stranger Tides) may not be a bad idea. On Super Bowl Sunday, I Am Number Four could be #1. On Super Bowl Sunday, even Brooklyn Decker's jiggling boobs (Just Go With It) -- shown in slow motion, then rewound, then shown again -- might be Oscar material.

I sometimes think that we movie fans would be happiest if some of these movies never came out at all. With many of them, it doesn't get any better than the trailers. If they could somehow enter a perfect state of being forever just out of our grasp, their release date always a month or two hence on the horizon, then they could always remain The Best Movies We've Never Seen.

Once they come out, all too often, they are just another unit in the assembly line of Hollywood garbage.