I basically thought I'd already said my piece on the whole "what constitutes real cinema" debate kicked off by Martin Scorsese about two months back when he took a cheap shot at the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As much of a fanboy as I admittedly am, I really had no interest in joining that particular fray because, well, one: there are other things to do, two: nobody's exactly paying me to launch some spirited online defense and, three: with 22 billion in the bank, a brace of Oscars and an arguably bright future ahead, Marvel certainly doesn't need anyone to stand up for them.
The thing is, it irks me that Scorsese has used this initial comment for some pretty shameless self-promotion in the weeks that have followed, basically rehashing it over and over again, and even launching a faux "advocacy" against the supposed "death of cinema," claiming that movie theaters should "rebel" against showing Marvel films. In short, while I was never particularly bothered about what ol' Marty thought of Marvel movies, it started to get on my nerves that, outwardly at least, he was appearing to launch some kind of campaign against them.
I had to admit, though, that given the glut of franchise films in the marketplace in 2019 alone, though, it was hard to argue with the impression that they really were muscling other non-franchise, risk-laden properties out of silver screen real estate. Had people forgotten what it was like to consume movies that aren't just part of some mass-marketed product line?
Then, two weeks after burgeoning franchise launcher Joker dominated the box-office, Maleficient: Mistress of Evil, a perfunctory sequel to 2014's surprise hit Maleficent opened to surprisingly limp numbers at the U.S. box office. It was enough to get the movie to number one, but not enough to even bring the film to half the opening weekend of the original. The movie now stands to finish its global box-office run with less than two-thirds of the surprisingly muscular box office of its predecessor. So basically, a significant portion of the first film's audience rejected the filmmakers' attempts to get a franchise going.
Things didn't end there; weeks later, Paramount attempted to launch Terminator: Dark Fate, its second reboot of the once-popular Terminator film franchise, following the disastrous Terminator: Genisys back in 2015, this time managing to attach James Cameron's name to the project as one of its screenwriters and producers. This was a sequel/reboot that next to nobody asked for, and the numbers reflected this reality as the film's #1 debut was overshadowed by the paltry amount it took in (USD29 million) next to its gargantuan budget (USD185 million). Audiences had now said "no" to two franchises in a row.
A week later, Doctor Sleep, a sequel to Stanley Kubrick's 1980 adaptation of a Stephen King novel, The Shining, tanked at the box office in spite of decent tracking, showing that goodwill from the cult status of The Shining wasn't going to be enough to sell a new movie. Another franchise lost, this time to Midway, a World War II movie by disaster-porn meister Roland Emmerich. That's three in a row.
But the best was yet to come.
Last weekend, Ford v Ferrari, a new film based on the remarkable true story of the 1966 24 Hours of Le Mans and the events leading up to it, opened against a reboot of Charlie's Angels, a franchise last seen in theaters way back in 2003, which, if I'm honest, absolutely nobody was asking for. Ford v Ferrari was tracking to do well thanks to the combined star power of proven box-office draw Matt Damon and former Batman Christian Bale, and was predicted to open well above Charlie's Angels. What happened? FvF ended up exceeding expectations, grossing USD31.5 million versus 20+ million predictions, while CA made USD8.8 milion versus predictions of USD13 million.
-SPOILER ALERT-
Ford v Ferrari, it should be pointed out, is not a typical underdog story in that it's not about the hero winning in the end or even about a "Rocky" finish in which the hero loses the fight but "wins" the crowd. The hero, Ken Miles DOESN'T actually win the 24 Hours of Le Mans despite being the best driver of the race, nor does he lose to Ferrari and get a standing ovation. Rather, what happens is that, on Henry Ford II's orders, he slows down his race-leading car so that the three Ford GT40s can come home in a dead heat and make a sensational photo op for the company. Unfortunately, by doing so he has exposed himself to a technicality that means that the driver who started farther back from him then wins the race as he has driven a longer distance. It's one of the most farcical endings to a race in motorsport history, and full kudos to James Mangold and his crew for not sugarcoating it in any way. And THEN, in a cruel twist which also reflects what really happened, scarcely a month after NOT winning at Le Mans and while he is busy at work developing next year's car, Miles crashes and dies. Holy cow. Having read about this race in a book, I knew these things were going to happen, but seeing them unfold on the big screen I was struck at the filmmakers' courage and candor. They may have fudged some of the details but they were truly honest when it really counted, and in doing so they delivered a gut-punch of an ending that is decidedly NOT franchise-friendly.
And yet, for all of that, audiences embraced this movie unequivocally, and continue to do so.
-END SPOILER ALERT-
That audiences have ignored several franchises in a row and have embraced a good, old-fashioned, emotionally authentic yarn about underdogs that doesn't feel in any way engineered or market-tested basically debunks Scorsese's assertion that franchise pics will gobble up the marketplace. Ford v Ferrari got made, didn't it? It got a wide release, didn't it? And perhaps most notably, it was CHAMPIONED, at festivals and in general marketing efforts, by the very studio whom Scorsese accuses of inundating the marketplace with "amusement park rides."
In short, there is no truth to the assertion that Marvel movies are "killing cinema" because several franchises in a row have JUST tanked, and audiences have JUST embraced a very genuine example of old-school filmmaking.
The bottom line is that audiences can embrace both a Marvel movie like Avengers: Endgame and a smaller, more intimate movie like Ford v Ferrari because both of them speak to them on a primal emotional level. They can reject franchise entries like Charlie's Angels, Terminator: Dark Fate and Maleficent 2 because those feel, by contrast, like by-the-numbers products injected with catchy marketing hooks and "updated" sensibilities. Scorsese can make claims about emotional connections all he wants, but I'm willing to bet nobody was hospitalized from crying uncontrollably after the death of a character in one of his movies, even the popular ones.
What people don't realize about Scorsese's assertions is that he isn't just insulting Marvel; he's insulting the audience that likes to watch their movies, basically claiming that we wouldn't know "cinema" if it hit us on the head, and that it's up to auteurs like him to save us from all of this commercialized claptrap.
Well, sorry to break it to you, Marty, but we DO know good movies when we see them, and we AREN'T just numb consumers who'll eat up anything the monolithic franchise-generating Hollywood throws at us.
If you couldn't get money for YOUR overblown passion project, maybe it's less a problem of Marvel movies and more about the fact that your last movie lost a bundle of money for the studio who bet on it, and that this new one, had it received a traditional theatrical release, probably would have done the same.
In short, if audiences can embrace a film like Ford v Ferrari, which by even your standard is definitely a sterling example of "cinema" but not YOUR work, then maybe you're the problem.
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