The Wake

The last good movie I saw in the theater was called (PUMA ATHLETIC WEAR) Inside Man, directed by Spike Lee. (PRUDENTIAL LIFE INSURANCE) All I’d heard of it was the description “bank robbery movie,” and I considered not going, but the choice between an overpriced movie ticket and another night hanging out with my parents was easy. It was a bank robbery movie, (CONVERSE FOOTWEAR) essentially, yet the story involved war crimes and history, it was far more than I (DOS EQUIS BEER—DRINK RESPONSIBLY) expected. Except there was this one problem: there were way too many fucking commercials.

Was that first paragraph a little difficult to read? Well, that first paragraph isn’t much different than almost every movie that comes out these days. Suffice it to say that the majority of what Hollywood produces is bullshit with no social relevance and now they’ve taken their art to a lower level; it’s riddled with advertising. Normally I’d say that the only movies worth seeing are at the Landmark Lagoon Cinema or the Landmark Uptown Theatre, but now independent film companies are being approached, consequently having to make the following decision: Do we compromise our artistic integrity for more money which can either mean a better movie or greater profit margins, or do we stick with what we’ve raised to make the movie and have it devoid of more bullshit corporate marketing?

It’s pretty safe to say that everybody hates commercials. Super Bowl and those specials TBS holds aside, commercials are the epitome of an insult to our intelligence. Think about any crash test or chemical disinfectant ad you’ve seen. The ad tries to scare you. Why is this? Because advertisers know a lot about psychology and they’d rather appeal to your emotions, not your intelligence, to get you to buy whatever new and improved superfluous product is out there.

It used to be that the eight dollars you spent at the theater were what the studios depended on to make their investment back. Unlike network TV, which, since it’s free, needs to rely on advertisers to make money, movies did not have commercial breaks until recently. Yet now, you have commercials before the movie, some asinine trivia game with a gigantic fucking Coca-Cola logo in the corner, and you have commercials during the movie in the form of shameless product placement. A perfect example of this is Crash, a movie where the kid’s shoe is notably Puma, as is his shirt, Ludacris’ jacket. Sweet evil Jesus I’m embarrassed to admit I watched this show once, but what about an episode of The O.C. where one character says to another “I brought your favorite donuts from Seven-Eleven.” Not a movie, I know, but the same principles are at play. Some movie purists would say that, in a film, every word counts. Think about it, if it doesn’t have to do with the story, why the hell is it in the fucking movie? As with all fiction, the writer essentially asks the reader/viewer to take in this lie they’ve come up with, and hopefully afterward, some social comment has shone through. But how in God’s name can we take the creators of such work seriously when they devote valuable exchanges between characters toward bullshit to promote brands?

I’ve talked about this with a few people, and some have offered this response: “Well, it might not be on purpose.” No fucking way. Before movies hit the screen where you and I see them, they’ve been looked over a million times. You think some forty million-dollar investment geared specifically toward a certain age demographic hasn’t been scrutinized to the core? No way. Think that the needless Pepsi-cola machine, the polished American yin yang, which just happens to be dead fucking center in an establishing shot, went unnoticed during the filming, editing, etc.? Not a chance. It’s there because Pepsi paid for it to be. And once again, you were subjected to an ad for caramel sugar water.

But it’s not all bad news. Capote, partly because it took place in the fifties, didn’t compromise artistic expression, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman is that much more respected for it. Brick, taking place in modern America, is maybe an even better example, as it probably had offers, yet you can’t spot any. The result is the fact that it’s lesser known, maybe from a lack of funds for promotion. But get the DVD and you’ll understand, it’s not only a good movie, but it’s also a chance to escape being hounded by advertisers for a couple hours.

This comes down to matters of money. A small time director might be able to get better special effects with a little product placement, but at the same time the obvious presence of brand names deteriorates the quality of the work. Then there are the bigger directors with fatter budgets and more grandiose studios. Do they need the extra cash to improve the movie? Probably not. They don’t, however, mind the increase in profit margins the product placement might generate.

I suppose that what this comes down to is what is done with artistic talent. There are few things more respected than true creativity. Writers, painters, musicians, movie directors are the creative power that influence popular culture. And then they go ahead and throw some fucking Red Bull commercial in the middle of their work. The impression the artist sends says: money matters more than artistic simplicity.