As we exited the theater where we had just seen the IMAX version of Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark, a special one-week run to promote yesterday's release of the complete Indiana Jones series on Blu-Ray, my friend Rohit posed an intriguing question. “Does our generation have a movie like that?” In the last decade, had there been a film that could match its explosive popularity?
My first instinct was to take a look at the numbers. During its initial run in 1981, plus re-releases in the two subsequent years, Raiders earned over $242 million at the domestic box office, making it the 75th highest-grossing film of all time. This seems anemic when compared to a contemporary hit like Marvel’s The Avengers (Joss Whedon), which raked in $207 million in its opening weekend alone en route to a total of over $621 million.
But raw dollars provide an inferior way to compare films that were released decades apart. Ticket prices, like any other commodity, are subject to the forces of inflation and any legitimate comparison must take this into account. Translated into 2012 dollars Raiders’ adjusted domestic gross is over $706 million, which is nineteenth all-time. Since its release merely six films have surpassed it and only one of these – James Cameron’s Avatar (2009) – came out in the twenty-first century.
Hollywood isn’t necessarily putting out a product that’s vastly inferior to its older films (a complaint that I hear from audiences of all ages). Of course there is a good share of crap, but if we look back through cinematic history we find that that’s always been the case. So why is it so difficult for more recent films to rack up gaudy box office numbers?
It has to do in part with the accessibility of home theater systems (a concept that was, until recently, reserved for the wealthy) which mimic the cinematic experience in the comfort of one’s own living room. And of course the advances in cable, satellite, and streaming services have given us access to a massive selection of channels and on-demand content. There’s less of an incentive to actually go see a movie at the theater when there is all this entertainment available anytime the mood strikes.
However, people don’t seem to be shutting themselves inside with their flat screens; going to the movies is still an American pastime. Compared to 1981, twenty percent more tickets were sold in 2011. But whereas 1981 saw 173 movies get released, in 2011 there were 601 releases.
The sheer volume of movies coming out in theaters has made it an arduous task for contemporary films to rival the all-time greats. Movies with broad appeal just aren’t getting made anymore. Market segmentation is the norm, and films are mostly tailor-made to attract particular demographics.
In my generation, there are a few blockbuster films that could contend with the appeal, drawing power, and sheer quality of Raiders. Peter Jackson’s epic Lord of the Rings trilogy earned a Best Picture Oscar for its final installment. The Harry Potter series maintained impressively high standards across eight films. And with his Batman trilogy, Christopher Nolan elevated the superhero film to an art form.
Taking nothing away from their artistic and aesthetic value, these films are all based on well-established, already popular stories from comic books and literature. Fans of the source material want to see how Hollywood will interpret the characters they have loved for years, if not decades. And bingo, there’s the built-in audience I mentioned before. It’s become a safer financial bet for studios to rely on recognizable characters rather than creating films that are genuinely original.
That isn’t to say that Raiders came out of a vacuum; George Lucas and Steven Spielberg admittedly were inspired by classic cinema. But their genius lied in their ability to resurrect the thrilling elements of the 1930s and 40s film serials and combine them with the dazzling techniques of modern moviemaking in an original way.
Their film also spoke to multiple generations. Older viewers who fondly recalled weekend afternoons spent in movie houses would come for the nostalgia, and their younger counterparts would line up to see Harrison Ford, who was fast becoming one of the biggest superstars of the 1980s. And, let's face it, who doesn't want to see Nazis get the snot kicked out of them? The combination of these elements made for an unforgettable cinematic experience. Quite simply, one cannot ask for anything more out of a movie.
When I consider the films that I grew up with in the 2000s decade I'm reminded of Marcus Brody, who has just informed Indy that he'll be sent to find the Ark of the Covenant. "Nothing else has come close," he says. And indeed, Raiders of the Lost Ark has a universal appeal that hasn't been approached by any film since, and certainly none from my generation.
(Box office data obtained from boxofficemojo.com)
The documentary genre is currently experiencing a renaissance on television. However, there is a rift that is occurring between legitimate documentaries and the travesty that is the reality show, a sub-genre that technically falls under the documentary umbrella but in fact bears little resemblance to it.
The network or cable channel that a television documentary is aired on will have a strong influence on both its content and narrative technique. In the same way that an automaker like BMW creates signature design elements that run through their entire model line, channels aim to distinguish themselves from one another by having a distinctive programming style for most, if not all, of their shows.
For example, an historical documentary produced for broadcast on the History Channel will be approached differently than one for the National Geographic Channel, even if they cover the same subject matter. In this way, brand image is strengthened so that viewers can immediately recognize shows as being part of a specific channel’s lineup.
From the outset, makers of documentary television know what is expected of a final product based upon what channel is ordering the program. The standards are laid out beforehand, providing a blueprint upon which to work, which can make production run more smoothly.
With television documentaries, conformity is the key, as viewers rely on the fact that they can sit themselves down on the couch and know what’s coming on their favorite channel. This approach stomps out much of the creative control of producers and directors, turning their jobs into positions in an assembly line.
Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. The brilliant nature documentary Planet Earth, produced by the BBC (U.K) through an international partnership with Discovery Channel (U.S.), NHK (Japan), and CBC (Canada), is one of the finest examples of the medium, serving as justification for high-definition television.
But Planet Earth is an outlier, because the BBC is a non-commercial public service broadcaster. Commercial television is a medium where at least a quarter of programming is devoted to advertisements. Because of this, the makers of documentary television must oftentimes tread lightly on certain issues, for fear of losing valuable advertising dollars that keep the channel in business. Advertisers market their products and services to certain demographics, and they want to ensure that the content of a particular show is in line with who they want to sell to.
Ultimately, television documentaries are harmed by these restrictions. The familiarity with which a channel produces its shows does a great service to audience ratings, but largely saps the creators of making programming that is outside the box. On the other hand, the makers of cinematic documentaries have a greater degree of flexibility to tell their stories the way that they see fit. Directors and producers of documentary film have more freedom to think creatively.
Now, of course, film is a business that is still beholden to turning a profit. After all, we live in a capitalist society. But since film doesn’t have to rely on funding from advertisements in the same way that television does, creativity isn’t as suffocated. This is an issue of budget as well. Whereas a television show has to spread out its resources across multiple episodes, a film can pour all of its money into producing one to two hours. So the finished product of the big screen is usually superior to that of the small screen.
Most contemporary documentary television has descended into the realm of reality programming, wherein the everyday lives of “normal” people are followed. These shows are little more than loosely scripted farces designed to exploit anyone and anything that lies on the fringes of society.
The undisputed giant of this arena is TLC. Its current lineup is almost exclusively devoted to reality programming, including series such as My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, Extreme Couponing, Hoarding: Buried Alive, and Toddlers and Tiaras. The irony of their success lies in the fact that a network formerly marketed as “The Learning Channel” now features no educational programming whatsoever.
The issue with the reality television genre is whether or not it can be considered as part of the documentary genre. On the surface, it can be argued that these are documentaries, because their basic style involves following subjects around with cameras for days at a time. But this is where the comparison ends.
Let’s take a series such as MTV’s Jersey Shore (which, thankfully, is entering its final season but will all but certainly spawn a litany of spin-offs). Like any other show on television, be it scripted or unscripted, it has its own conventions to follow. Its viewers expect that the characters are going to get caught up in wildly dramatic situations at nightclubs and bars on a regular basis, so the producers either suggest certain activities, or stage events altogether. Anyone who sincerely believes that they are simply watching the everyday lives of these people unfold is a dunce.
The fact that most people’s interaction with the documentary medium comes through reality television is alarming, mainly because these series are, at best, pseudo-documentaries. Viewers’ tastes have changed for the worse, and while some are able to correctly identify reality television as the semi-scripted diversion that it is, there are too many people who actually consider such programs as authentic.
Reality shows don’t seem to be going anywhere, and it’s likely going to be a while before the trend changes. But there are still legitimate documentaries, in both film and television, and that is a hopeful sign for the future of the genre.
(This article is adapted from a piece originally written for 'Documentary Film & Television,' a Master's course in Communication Arts at the New York Institute of Technology)
