Howard Ho Ho (palmtree@ucla.edu) suggests you
watch "Y Tu Mama Tambien" instead.
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The world of film is a zany, kooky dive filled with enough
banality to last a lifetime. In case you haven’t noticed, we
are in another Golden Age of Hollywood. Well, perhaps gold is not
the right color. Green, maybe. Spinach, dollar-bill turquoise,
definitely.
Welcome to the educational column’s look at the glamour
and glitz of Tinseltown’s Dream Machine ““ cliches are
fun, aren’t they? As usual, your host will attempt to unplug
you from the matrix of modern-day life. I am joined today by the
Daily Bruin educational column’s very own poet laureate, who
will interpret our discussion with insightful verse.
Evidence of the “spinach, dollar-bill turquoise” age
we are now in can be seen in the boom of Hollywood’s
worldwide revenues and the use of record profits as a way to
quantify a film into greatness. “Titanic” was the first
film to gross over a billion dollars worldwide. You can bet that
Disney’s “Pearl Harbor” had virtually no desire
to retell history compellingly and accurately the way
“Titanic” did. Instead they wanted to put more weepy
Jacks and Roses on sinking ships just the same way every new
McDonald’s puts that playground by the street to entice
insatiable kids.
In a poem titled “Harbor of Pearl,” our poet
laureate writes, “Love in times of danger is like a pearl,
which Disney can use for financial security like security system
EARL.”
Another piece of evidence for our new gilded age of film can be
seen in new theaters, more theaters, better theaters, bigger
theaters and of course, more theatrical trailers. The theaters have
stadium seating, surround sound, cup holders and most importantly,
there’s never a moment of silence. Even in the bathroom, you
hear from a ceiling speaker, “And that was the Ubixitous
Omnipresents with their latest hit, “˜Sing to me while I
piss.'” As our poet laureate writes,
“Commercials, commercials everywhere, and not a moment to
think.”
Whereas films formerly disseminated slowly across the country
from big cities to rural areas, now films are blitzkrieged to over
3,000 theaters at once with a similar onslaught in advertisements.
The former system allowed good word-of-mouth to create business for
the film. Now, word-of-mouth is the kiss of death for Hollywood
spectacles like last summer’s “Planet of the
Apes,” which makes the blitzkrieg even more necessary to
squeeze increased amounts of money out of people’s pockets
while people are still buzzed into the acceptance of a bad
movie.
In his poem “Blitzkrieg, oh Blitzkrieg,” our poet
laureate writes, “When by the theater oft I passed, my
gullible eyes aside did cast. And here and there the places spy,
where oft I sat and got brain-fried. Alas the movie I saw did suck,
but still was I glad to give poverty stricken movie execs my extra
buck.”
In terms of advertising, the film industry has never exhibited
its cleverness to a greater extent than when it came up with
“news” personas who act as its very own pitch people.
During the 10 o’clock news, you hear so-called film critics
giving a list of adjectives that would make a thesaurus jealous.
Instead of analytical arguments, you get “An
edge-of-your-seat thrill ride!,” “Sexy!,”
“America’s Number One Film!” and “The Best
Blank since Blankety Blank!” No one in their right mind would
talk about a film this way ““ that is, no one except our
trusty television film critics, who always speak with annoying
exclamation points.
Perhaps Roger Ebert represents that line between film criticism
and interchangeable adjectives. Sure, he knows movies, but when it
comes down to it, he decides to give films
“thumbs.”
Moving up the evolutionary ladder, the opposable thumb has now
become a dominant mode of film critique. What does it mean to have
“Thumbs Way Up!” and why don’t we ever get
“Thumbs Way Down?” If he cut off his thumb and launched
it into orbit, what would that mean? If he dipped it in hot acid
and sucked on it, should I go see the film?
In “Thumbs Forever,” our poet laureate writes,
“Ebert and his thumbs are a blast, I’d like to stick
his up his ass.”
Finally, the filmgoer is left with but one choice: to see Jar
Jar Binks all grown up in “Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of
the Clones.”
What is the plot of the new “Star Wars” film?
Let’s see: in a galaxy far, far away, Jack and Rose find love
amid a sinking, titanic-sized republic.
So strut your stuff to the multiplex and join the throngs of
people for a tale of star-crossed lovers (gosh, I really do enjoy
cliches)!