Before I begin, let me join the thousands who have praised David Hughes' book, "The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies Never Made." It's that book (having been published now for quite some time) that inspired this editorial. If you can't stand that book, prepare to loathe yourself for reading this article. If you happen to love it, you're just a good person in general.
Since the opening of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films, numerous movies have crossed the line of being "previously unfilmable." Since 2009 alone, we've been given two prominent films that have stood out after having a legacy of being projects that went through more stages of development hell than Mr. Freeze had puns in "Batman & Robin": Watchmen and John Carter of Mars.
Watchmen's debut in '09 was met with praise from the general audience and mixed views from critics. John Carter of Mars was recently met with mixed feelings from pretty much everyone, and an opening box office that would make even the Green Lantern shudder.
But the question that I want to ask is not "Why are these films bad or not met with the same respect as their literary mediums?" but rather, do we look past the movie itself, into territory the movie cannot help but be a part of? I'm not talking about a "film." I'm talking about a "project."
You've already seen a project once this year. It starred that guy from Gothika, the muscle-bound teen from Cellular, the young girl from The Man Who Wasn't There, a guy who hates flying with (as TV censorship states) "monkey-fried snakes on a Monday to Friday plane," and a director with a cult following large enough to take over New Hampshire. It was this one:
Now what makes this movie so successful? The fact that it's a film or a project? There's no doubt that if you strip away the years of development, of back story, of marketing, and of hype that you're still left with a film that met the needs of an audience seeking to be vastly entertained. In fact, Rottentomatoes.com's final consensus has to this to say:
In that statement, (aside from the comment about "living up to its hype") the consensus of the site makes an affinity of the movie on its own cinematic terms. While that statement may not speak for the rest of the reviews, it is an excellent example of a brief review of a movie, not a project.
Now we look at what Joss Whedon has to say at the start of almost every Marvel Exclusive about the Avengers: "What we're doing here is completely unprecedented." And he's right. Because he's referring to the movie as a project; not a film. He's referring to the tireless effort of bringing together a cinematic universe instead of merely producing a long-standing film about The Avengers.
If it helps, look at it this way: Imagine that when you saw The Avengers, it was the first time any of the heroes had appeared onscreen as themselves. Downey Jr.'s Iron Man's debut is fixing a cord at the bottom of the Hudson, instead of riding in the desert with the military as seen in "Iron Man." Without the other movies, that version of The Avengers is simply a film. And, according to a majority, it's a good film. But it's unaffected from the fact that it stems from an ongoing project.
Let's shift gears here and talk about the Brit with the Grit: Christopher Nolan.
Nolan's the second director to issue us with a trilogy of superhero films (the first belonging to Spider-Man director Sam Raimi) and his conclusion to the Batman legend hits cinemas soon. It's one of (if not the) most anticipated films of the year; but you must ask yourself on what merit.
Nolan's not been shy to say all three movies tell a complete arc for the Batman character, a difference in Raimi's trilogy, and that issues in the debate for: Is The Dark Knight Rises a project, or a film? For this answer, we look to Nolan's last outing in Gotham City with "The Dark Knight."
"The Dark Knight," when released, was met with universal praise (higher than that of Nolan's first try at the cowl with "Batman Begins." That being said, tragedy also struck on set with the passing of the late Heath Ledger portraying what many have said is one of the greatest literary villains of all time. Not the Penguin.
"The Dark Knight" does not make its home-run play by acting like a sequel. In fact, many have said (including Whedon) that the film somewhat abandons Batman as its crux. In doing so, it continues the Batman arc from a different perspective, allowing it to be a newer, fresher, and different film. One that could be set apart from the trilogy if need be. In this sense, "The Dark Knight" is more a film than a project.
When it comes to "The Dark Knight Rises," however, we are met with the idea that this is the "end of Nolan's Batman mythos." By claiming that, the film, even though Nolan has been adamant that no mention of the Joker will be made, is directly and completely tied TDKR to TDK. Its identity is a sequel. It ultimately begins to become a project.
People could say before "The Dark Knight" came out they were going to go see the "new Batman movie." For "The Dark Knight Rises," it's likely that they'll say, "Nolan's last Batman movie."
Unlike the James Bond films where characters may come and go, the Bond films rarely act as sequels. When the actors appear, we know who they are and what they've done in previous films, but continuity may not be an issue. In some Bond films, 007 grieves the loss of his wife. In others, it's almost as if he were never wed. Bond is not treated with character arcs because his films are not treated as sequels. The upcoming film "Skyfall" is highly anticipated because of the pedigree of the cast and crew. Not because of any of its ties to previous Bond movies.
Where did "Prometheus" fall short? While many claim that the movie suffered from an ill (not the 90s definition of "ill") third act (which I will agree with), did it ultimately suffer in part to its connection to the legendary Alien films? Were expectations shot too high because of its status as a project, and not a movie? Once again, we turn to rottentomatoes' final assessment:
As a film, there are seemingly obvious flaws, but as a project, the movie seems to have bitten off more than it can chew.
So, here is my question to you, as viewers:
Are you able to distinguish the aspects of a good film from the anticipation of a project? Was John Carter of Mars a failure (not speaking financially) because of decades of being a property unable to be filmed, until ultimately no one could be pleased with the final result? Was Watchmen forgotten because it offered a frame-by-frame likeness, excelling as a project well-done, but as a cinematic "meh?"
As we await the releases of "The Dark Knight Rises," "Skyfall," "The Hobbit," and many others, on what terms will you enjoy them? As a stand-alone movie? As a long-gestating project? Or possibly both, like The Avengers proved to be?