"Mixed Feelings - The Follow-Up"

Opining about the movie business, two-time Oscar-winning screenwriter William Goldman famously proclaimed:

“Nobody knows anything.”

By which he did not mean they do not know which way to point the camera…

“The lens faces the actors.”

Or how to get to the location…

“It was easy.  They picked me up in a limo.”

William Goldman meant nobody knows what the moviegoing audience is going to like.

Meaning…

Nobody can ever guarantee a hit movie, or avoid making a failure.

Because…

Nobody knows.

Yesterday, I grumbled about an article in the paper trying to explain why the film Steve Jobs kerplunked at the box office.  A journalistic analysis on Steve Jobs’ failure was required, despite the generally agreed-upon reality that…

Nobody knows.

They just know the movie’s grosses were considerably lower than had been projected.  Which is not analysis.  It’s counting.  Analysis is what you say, at least in the case of the article in the paper, when you have nothing to say.

Today, I shall reverse the tables from the perspective of the audience to the perspective of “Mr. (or Ms.) Green Light”, the studio executive who, after hearing the pitches, is the final determinant – or determinator, one of those, or something else – concerning which movies will ultimately be made.

I have no idea how this happened; it is merely something I noticed.  Somehow, either through collusion, cocktail party espionage, the Zeitgeist, coincidence, magic, something in the water, or an explanation I haven’t thought of, in the movie year of 2015, there are an inordinate number of movies, opening during the “Smart Movie” season – when movies are strategically released for Oscars consideration – all of which are based on actual historical events.

Steve Jobs, Bridge of Spies, The Big Short, Spotlight, Martian – wait, that one’s made up, sorry – Trumbo, Truth and Concussion.

Think about that.

In the course of less than two months, seven major motion pictures accosted the public, all based on actual historical events. 

Seven. 

And my question is:

“Why?” 

No, it’s not “Why?”  I mean, it is “Why?” but it is not what I’m doing today.

Today, I am asking myself “What if?”  As in,

“What if I were the all-powerful “Mr. Green Light” and these movie proposals were pitched to me?” 

It was suggested in the yesterday-referred-to Steve Jobs article – and it is an interesting hypothesis – that…

“For years we’ve heard that branding is important in attracting consumer attention in an overloaded cultural marketplace.  It’s one reason these fact-based have proliferated to begin with – if the big-budget world has its presold Marvel and DC characters to help it build a blockbuster, then grown-up dramas need a story people inherently recognize too.”

Fine.  But I’m “Mr. Green Light”.  And I have to decide.

So here we go.  (I am writing this thing barefoot.  But I can feel myself wearing soft, obscenely expensive Italian loafers.  And leaning comfortably back in my chair.)

“Okay, boys.  (Or, though less frequently, “girls.”)  Whaddaya got?”

Steve Jobs

“The guy refused to acknowledge that his daughter was his daughter?  I hate that guy." 

"Pass!”

Bridge of Spies

“A story about people nobody heard of that happened  sixty years ago?  Time is a ‘Bullet Train.’  We don’t remember what happened last week.”

“Pass.”

The Big Short

“The ‘Sub-Prime Mortgage Crisis”?  Yeah, that’s a ‘date movie’.”

“Pass.”

Trumbo

“The guy’s a screenwriter?  Who cares about screenwriters?  Plus, he’s a Commie.”

“Pass.”

Spotlight

“Ninety priests molesting little children?  I do not see people leaving the theater with smiles on their faces.”

“Pass.”

Concussion

“Football is entertainment.  Showing it turns the players’ brains into applesauce…?”

“Pass.”

So what happens?

Truth 

(Dan Rather and his producer crash and burn investigating George W. Bush’s Viet Nam war service in the Texas Air National Guard)

“Literally “Old news.”

“Pass.”

So what happens?

Mr. "Green Light" Pomerantz green lights nothing.

A sensible decision.

And I'm fired.

Because you have to green light something.

Otherwise you are not in the movie business.

You are an office that says “No” that validates parking.

There are a lot of movie ideas out there.

How did these six historically-based concepts float in at the same time?

And why did anyone say “Yes” to any of them?

"I Am Happy To Present..."

There is a book that was recently published called Short Flights.  The book is an anthology of aphorisms contributed by various writers, edited by James Lough and Alex Stein.

My brother Hart was one of the invited contributors.  His definition of an aphorism:

“A joke that went to college.”

Which gives you a preview of what’s store.

Relinquishing this platform to my brother, I shall today offer a sampling of his aphorisms.

I think they’re terrific. 

You might see that as favoritism.

My response to that perception?

It is not favoritism if you’re good.

Okay, here we go.

Aphorisms

By Hart Pomerantz

Law school taught me to take two situations that are exactly the same and show how they’re different.

A president near the end of his second term resembles an old stripper who has removed all her clothes and still has twenty minutes left in her act.

Man’s need for answers far outweighs his need for truth.

Never trust a country whose army marches without bending its knees.

Should you be considered an original thinker if you discover a new method of stealing ideas?

It is unfortunate that no school teaches us how to fail properly.

In prehistoric times whenever there was thunder, religion soon followed.

He was a type A minus personality.

The less the difference between people the greater the animosity.

All professions invent their own jargon in order to charge you for the translation.

The rug must be held responsible for its fringe.

"Mixed Feelings"

There is one way I feel sorry for journalists, and one way I don’t.

First, the “don’t.”

In some ways, journalism is extremely easy.  The news does not have to be made up.  You look out the window and there it is.  “The Dodgers won; the Dodgers lost.”  “The Stock Market rose; the Stock Market fell.” “It’s going to be nice; better take an umbrella.” 

There is never “no news”.  Meaning, for journalists, there is always something to write.  The front page is never empty.  It’s simply one crisis following another.  Sometimes the crises even overlap, a current bad news story easing out of the spotlight as its successor materializes on the scene.

Example:

Not long ago, reading the Front Page of the L.A. Times, I experienced the journalistical equivalent of “two ships passing in the night”, yesterday’s “big story” proceeding seamlessly into tomorrow’s.  

Imagine you’re moving into a new apartment and the previous tenant has not quite departed the premises.  That’s what this felt like.  Only it’s two stories that are exactly the mirror opposite of each other.

The first story concerned the now years-long California drought.  The other story – printed on the same page – previewed the impending difficulties of the torrential El Nino. 

Can you believe that?  Front Page stories go from drought to deluge without missing a beat.  It’s like those cartoon sheep herding dogs, one “punching out”, and the other “punching in.”

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hello, Ralph.”

You just write the story.

“Will it ever rain again?”

“Will it ever stop raining?”

It’s as simple as that.  You can leave “Will it ever…” and simply fill in the blanks.

On the other hand, reading a journalist’s effort recently, I sensed a writer trying to inflate a beach ball with an identifiable puncture hole in it. 

As a writing assignment, that is really hard to do.

And a little bit stupid.

My specific example here is now “Old News.”  But as a prototype, it is a movie journalist perennial.  You are required to write it.  If you don’t, your boss tells you to.

The hardly “Stop The Presses!” idea but you have to write it anyway?

Why did {INSERT COMMERCIALLY DISAPPOINTING MOVIE TITLE HERE} fail?” 

In this case, the movie was Steve Jobs.  The film had opened Friday night, and by Monday, its “failing to meet its projections” declared it “Dead on Arrival.”

It was now up to the journalist to explicate Steve Jobs’s demise.  With reliable auspices, highlighted by screenwriter-extraordinaire Aaron Sorkin, the film appeared to have a promising prognosis.  And yet it tanked. 

So what happened?

The answer is simple:

The audience did not enjoy the movie.

(Reminiscent of the story about a failed dog food – the manufacturers searching to understand what exactly went wrong, overlooking the explanation:  “The dogs didn’t like it.”)

The preceding explanation is not professionally acceptable.  One, because it is one sentence long.  And two, because journalists (or dog food marketing experts) are expected to provide “insider” insight into these matters, not stuff that can be easily gleaned from your Uncle Max or the guy sweeping out the theater. 

So roll up your sleeves, Mr. or Ms. Movie Journalist, and here we go:

Headline: 

“Why Did ‘Steve Jobs’ Flop At the Box Office?”

– It was the film’s unusual three-act structure.

– The Steve Jobs “brand” was over-exposed.

– The film’s marketing strategy was flawed.

–  They needed a “name” actor to play Steve Jobs.

The professional journalist puts their insight and understanding into their analysis.  And the story just lays there.

Why?

Because they egregiously missed the point.

“Why did ‘Steve Jobs’ fail at the box office?

Because the dogs didn’t like it.

I can imagine a frustrated journalist complaining,

“I knew that.”

Then go straight to work on a story on why some other picture did great.

"New Year's Wishes"

We hope next year will be better.

When was the last time that happened?

1962.

Well, if it happened once, I suppose.

That’s the spirit! 

Happy New Year. 

And cross your fingers.

It’s harder to type that way.  But okay.

To a better 2016.

It wouldn't take much.