Because You Never Asked

(6/01)

     Ever since the "Big Bang" started the journey that has led to the present we now reside in, the worst movie ever made is a film of recent vintage called "Armageddon". This is the movie that took the crown from the long-standing champ, "Top Gun". As mentioned in the previous essay, both these successful attempts to separate the movie going public from their money can be blamed on Jerry Bruckheimer.

     Somewhere back in the bowels of this ever growing slush of chicken soup philosophy is an essay entitled "How to Make it in Hollywood". For anyone who might be taking this class, the professor suggests a review of said essay as a means to further appreciate this one. (You don't have to do it now.) If such a prospect does not appeal to the beloved reader, I will try to make it simple by stating the following: in the essay "How to Make it in Hollywood", I criticized an Englishman named David Puttnam who had worked in the Hollywood film industry for many years. He had written a book suggesting that the European producers and film directors should be more like their American counterparts . that is, think more in what the audience might want than in heartfelt artistic creation. Not surprisingly, I found this not only an offensive idea, but a microcosm of the world as it now exists.

     So there I was, at my current spot by the Roman Sea, reading the article about Jerry Bruckheimer. It wasn't long before I began to realize that Jerry Bruckheimer was not a soul brother of mine and if the Revolution ever got started we'd be on different sides of the barricades. (His side always seems to win. Note his recent $135,000,000 movie as compared to my almost totally fictitious reading audience.) By the time I'd reached the middle of the article, it had become obvious that Jerry Bruckheimer was the prototype of the American producer applauded in David Puttnam's book. When I read on and was informed that Jerry Bruckheimer was responsible for "Armageddon" and "Top Gun", numbers 1 and 2 on my cinema excrement list, the trajectory of all this was becoming too cosmic to ignore. All the pieces were fitting together. There was a consistency here that corroborated much of my artistic worldview.

     It is important to note just what kind of man Jerry Bruckheimer is and what level of intellect is in play in order to understand why these essays became necessary for me. It must always be kept in mind that cinema is perhaps the most powerful communicator competing for the hearts and minds of contemporary man. It reaches and mesmerizes millions of people on a daily basis. Be it mature, adolescent, inane, intelligent, moronic, enlightening or misguided; be it pure escapist nonsense or conscious intellectual point of view, it plays a not insignificant role in leading viewers to who or what they identify with or reject in real life. The Jerry Bruckheimers of this industry have a substantial effect on who or what we want to be. If the Jerry Bruckheimers of the world are not capable --- or even worse, not interested --- in enriching our existence so that we might eventually create a more fulfilling world to live in, they are simply wasting the immense amounts of resources now made available to them. (I could find a better way to spend $135,000,000.)

     It's important that they not be jerks.

     Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh. By reading the newspaper article in question, I can't say if Bruckheimer is a jerk or not. He could be a delightful human being, a good friend, a fun person, a caring husband and father, a worthwhile example of living matter. But he is not just providing a service, like a plumber, accountant or taxi driver. He is in a position of power. He effects people's perceptions of themselves and others. He must be held to a higher standard. Just being a good guy is not enough. People like him should contribute to our growth and maturation. What I can tell from reading this article is that Jerry Bruckheimer is not up to that task. At best, he contributes nothing towards that end; at worst, he inhibits or even retards such growth and maturation. This is a terrible sin for one who has access to such an exorbitant amount of resources.

     Before giving the reader a brief sampling of the quoted wisdom of Jerry Bruckheimer, it's relevant to state the following: up until now, the legacy of his work has been characterized by tremendous financial success coupled with critical failure, a not uncommon legacy in contemporary Hollywood. In responding to these charges, he says, "we transport you. Whatever bills have to be paid --- putting the kids through college, whatever --- you just sit there for 2 hours and 50 minutes and get consumed (.) we've made you laugh, we've made you cry." This is the now all too traditional "we make them forget" defense. It confirms cinema as an escapist pursuit whose intellectual role goes no further than that. One hundred and thirty five million dollars spent simply to make someone forget seems a bit excessive to me. Or how about this gem: after explaining that if he'd gotten good reviews he'd probably be out of business, he says, "the studios look to you to deliver; they give you money and want their money back in return. It's a business." This is the now classic "it's a business" defense, as if being a business exonerates an enterprise from having any worthwhile intentions. Even more disturbing is the supposition that trying to make money with an intellectually worthwhile vehicle is simply an incompatible concept. Forget it, don't even try.

     From the 2 Bruckheimer quotes given above, it's obvious that he is adept at the cliché. Perhaps it would be more correct to say that he is a cliché. The movie "Armageddon", the reigning champ, is a perfect reflection of this.

     "Armageddon" took the crown from "Top Gun" for a number of reasons. My scorn for "Top Gun" was purely emotional. It was not a poorly realized motion picture. The same cannot be said for the new champ. It seduces vulnerable minds with every cheap trick and device ever recorded in the Hollywood Handbook of Movie Making Shtick. It is a virtual greenhouse of cliché incubation.

     Even worse is the intellectual-emotional climate of the film. Unlike "Top Gun", where what I object to is somewhat subtle and elusive, "Armageddon's" intellectual message offends me with all the subtlety of a huge meteor crashing into Earth (I couldn't resist). There is a certain degree of irony here because the last thing the Jerry Bruckheimer's of the world have is an intellectual point of view. They are not burdened with the kind of philosophical angst that might question our routine concepts of ourselves and break new ground. They don't consider their movies as vehicles for such things. None of them would ever try to make a "statement" with their films. There is nothing conscious about any of this, it is just who they are. It is inevitable, in such a vacuous intellectual environment, where nothing is questioned or looked upon suspiciously, that the status quo (at best) or retro-positions will take over the emotional content of their films. As a result, in "Armageddon" we see a movie that, probably by accident, glorifies everything about petroleum and its role in our lives, so much so that only the petroleum business can save the world. As an almost necessary corollary to this, the ecological movement is portrayed as little more than an insignificant annoyance (oh no, not them again) swept aside in the same derisive way a burly husband might slap around a nagging wife. This attitude is in perfect harmony with the portrayal of many of the movie's heroes (mostly petroleum people), who, if they acted in real life as they do in this film, would be considered horrible human beings; drunks, cheats, liars, irresponsible blowhards . assholes! In "Armageddon" they are the people we admire and would like to be.

     And then there are cigarettes. It is difficult to rule out the possibility of some kind of commercial liaison between Big Tobacco and Hollywood. Being that both these industries could be considered the most profitable forms of prostitution in the Global Economy, there is a certain degree of consistency here. Sharon Stone and her ilk have probably gotten more adolescent girls smoking than all the rest of the tobacco hustle put together. The sad part is that the government, which has put so much effort into curtailing this noxious habit, still hasn't figured it out. Certainly, there should be no censoring of such acts, but if Big Tobacco pays its way into movies, there should be disclosure. "Armageddon" is a 3-hour commercial for smoking and it is far from being alone in this regard.

     During one of the 10-minute TV stints I devoted to this movie, I remember thinking to myself, "gee, I hope the damn meteor gets through. Boom! Adios Bruce Willis."

     And now Mr. Bruckheimer gives us "Pearl Harbor". Not surprisingly, and contrary to the old Jerry Bruckheimer, he explains how he would like to impress the critics with this one, just to show he can do something worthwhile. This means he has contracted that dreaded disease known as "Pamela Anderson Syndrome", whose symptoms are a desire to be something more than the best set of tits money can buy. After having seen some promos in conjunction with a contest or giveaway (we'll fly you and a guest to the gala opening in Botswana), this seems highly unlikely. One must remember that I write from an obscure island half way around the world from Malibu, a place that is tucked inconspicuously away on the leeward side of most human activity, and yet, these promos have had no trouble tracking me down. It looks very much like business as usual.

     Perhaps in a few years (I'll only know when it hits TV) "Top Gun" will be #3, "Armageddon" #2, and "Pearl Harbor" .