Movie 666

By Demon

Ah, summer movies: space aliens, sequels, secret agents. Where was Movie 666 this summer? Answer: not at the movies.

Forgive this first person digression. It is less than scholarly. This online zine started as a monthly publication some two years ago, now it appears quarterly - assuming the editor has even been to the movies.

The Sierra Nevada: Better than the movies photo by Demon

I confess. I pretty much sat out this record setting summer. I remember seeing Attack of the Clones way back in May, and the next time I stepped in a theater it was for Signs way past opening week in August.

On the other hand, I camped in the desert, hiked in the mountains, and road tripped across the West. I enjoyed California sunshine. Lots of it.

Whenever I thought about dragging myself to see Spielberg’s gray opus, I opted for the long days of summer instead. To be sure, I intended on seeing Minority Report early in its release - but everyone who beat me to it told me about how the film was plastered with advertisements and I just lost my stomach.

Okay, to be sure, the rap I heard on the adverts in Minority Report was that they were self reflexive and perhaps even a little self deprecating - you know, ads meant to generate discussion of the nature of ads.

Whatever.

Maybe this type of thing is worth a mental jerkoff on a cold night in winter, but not during the precious twilight of a long Southern California day. And I know better: if Spielberg is putting subversive ads in his movie, he’s getting paid to do it, so maybe they ain’t really that subversive after all. Anyway, it’s hip now for corporations to be self deprecating.

I heard XXX was a drag. I didn’t see it. Where was I on opening night? Well, I might have been passed out on the floor from the unbearable heat in my apartment. It was hot this summer, but not hot enough to pay for air conditioning and see the bald bouncer turned snowboarder turned secret agent in the marketing scheme turned movie. I decided to trust my friends this summer - film criticism is a form of consumer protection after all. This summer, hearing “it sucks” from the guy I work with was enough to keep me away from Hollywood’s latest effort to manufacture cool and sell soft drinks and sunglasses.

Let’s digress for a moment:

War with Iraq. War with Afghanistan. War with Saudi Arabia. Secret agents on snowboards. One of these kids is not like the others. Forest fires ravage the West - the solution: cut down more trees. By the way, did you by chance see that realistic treatment of alien invasion in that brilliant crop circle movie by the director they are calling the new Spielberg? Oh, my! Yes, it was really quite stunning and has a positive message about faith in God and [suddenly this essay is interrupted by a religious fanatic strapped head to toe with dynamite who explodes himself on this page blowing you and your computer to tiny pieces. The point? Well, simply to demonstrate how much we all stand to gain from wacky religious shit!]

Okay, back to the article:

Then there was the day I was offered free tickets to see the latest Austin Powers shitfest. It was one of those advanced test screenings you get invited to while waiting in line to see another movie. The way it works is you put your name on a list and then you show up an hour early at some secret location and you watch the movie (or if you live in Hong Kong, you record the free screening on your digital video camera and distribute it on the internet), and when you are done you fill out a questionnaire about what you thought about the movie.

Questionnaire? But wait - I thought the movie was free? Now you want my opinion? So are you saying that my opinion is worth nothing?

And then, based on your opinions of the movie, the filmmakers trim and cut scenes to make the movie more likeable for the general audience on its release.

The next time you hear Jack Valenti or some other Hollywood figurehead defending artistic license and decrying censorship, remember friends, this is how art is made!

Initially, I figured I might actually be doing some kind of civic duty by commenting on Austin Powers in Goldmember. I could suggest, for instance, that the filmmakers cut out all product placement advertising within the movie. My humble opinion would inevitably be noticed by some astute, ladder climbing marketing specialist who would inform the movie producers about the growing dissatisfaction among viewers with in-movie advertising and the impending consumer backlash. After hearing my commentary, the producers of course would immediately remove all such advertising from movies for fear of losing viewers to other summer activities - like hiking, sailing, biking, and throwing lawn darts at passing SUVs.

But then I thought, do I really need to sit in this movie to deliver my message? Do I really need to attend a movie only to say later that I did not like the movie because of its crass commercial content? Perhaps there is a better way to express my opinion: like not attending the movie in the first place. Call it consumer democracy. I abstain.

Ultimately, the more I think about it, any movie that contains advertising before or during the movie, should be free. Just like television.

So instead of sitting in dark movie houses, watching ads before the movie and during the movie, and seeing stories about people running and humping and spying and killing and whatever else those fakey actors did in the movies this summer, I sailed in the Pacific, drove in the Mojave, walked in the Santa Monicas, and backpacked in the Sierras.

This summer, chapparal made more sense than celluloid. Wonder how the winter will shape up?

Related posts:

1. Does the Matrix Already Have Us?
2. Self Destruction and Self-Promotion: Corporate Branding in Recent Cinema
3. 25 Words or Less: Forgetable Reviews, Memorable Movies?
4. Creepy Little Girl Movies (CLG’s)
5. Spielberg’s Lilly Pond

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