One book I’ve been reading lately is called Mike Nelson’s Movie Megacheese. It’s a brief and humorous look at several cheesy movies from the 90s. Some may recall Mike Nelson as one of the stars of MST3K, a show that poked fun at really bad movies.
Anyway, one of the best parts of the book is Mike’s take on 90s Hollywood Blockbusters. As he puts it, “lately, the movie industry has been supersizing things for us with Big Gulp-style films. Big, bad movies with lots of stuff in ‘em . . . Huge, out-of-control budgets, big as the GNP of Chile or Scandinavia.”
Special effects extravaganzas from the 90s like Twister and Anaconda made no effort to shy away from advances in movie CGI. In fact, they capitalized on it. Then there’s movies like Waterworld, which were huge flops at the box office.
Waterworld is by no means a good movie, and I’m not here to extol its filmic qualities. With that said, it’s important to consider its technological contributions to movie-making and even civilian life.
For instance, Waterworld was the first movie to feature realistic CGI water, which has become a benchmark for graphical realism. The movie set also presented endless engineering challenges. (It weighed over 1 000 tons, and measured over 1/4 mile in circumference.)
Oh, and get this: a device Kevin Costner started developing during Waterworld was considered one of the best alternatives for cleaning up the gulf oil spill last year. Incidentally, James Cameron was also consulted for solutions to the spill.
The point I’m getting at here is that it’s easy to poke fun at the amount of excess in these blockbuster movies, but it’s still important to acknowledge their technological contributions. I remember when Avatar came out. People wouldn’t stop talking about its poor storyline when in reality movie was a giant proof of concept for new 3D technology. Sometimes these risks in movies are necessary, even if they have a high chance of failure, and even if they can only advance the technological side of filmmaking.
I also remember taking a public policy course at university. My prof recounted the time he was invited to Japan to act as a consultant to the government. When they asked him whether the government should disclose the amount of funding that goes into research projects, he barely hesitated before saying no. Why? Because research is inherently high risk, and won’t necessarily produce results. Taxpayers would be outraged by hearing this, even though it happens all over the world.
The difference between lab research and movie research is that the “success” of a movie is reflected all over the place. It’s in concrete numbers, it’s in nebulous reviews, and it’s in the recommendations of your friends. The most important difference, though, is that we can gain an instant appreciation for what we see on screen. Movie research produces movies we can inhabit.
Waterworld was a massive failure, yes. In fact, it tanked so badly critics started calling it Fishtar and Kevin’s Gate (references to two other movies that couldn’t make back their initial investment). Even so, there’s something admirable about a movie that tries to create an unprecedented setting through technology.
It’s important not to forget that “successful” movies like Twister and Anaconda were built upon the backs of unprofitable advancements in technology. Some of these advancements came from movies, and some from the strangest corners of industry. For instance, William Castle, known for his gimmicks in movie theaters, used surplus vibrators from World War I to enhance the experience of his audience. With the rise of indie filmmaking, almost any technological advancements could be useful. Maybe one day a mundane Ottawa metal roofing company will solve the key problem of the next blockbuster.
From now on, I’m going to think twice before passing on “schlocky” films that overdepend on technology. Sure Transformers movies may be vapid, but boy what spectacles they are.