The “leave your brain at the door” argument, and why it’s wrong

The “leave your brain at the door” argument, and why it’s wrong

Aug 03

You hear it all the time, often wailed in defence of Michael Bay’s latest crime against humanity: “you just need to leave your brain at the door of the theatre, and then you’ll have the time of your life.”

It’s spoken (or written) in a friendly but ultimately condescending manner, and is often followed up (especially online) with the suggestion that “you should get off your high horse,” “you should stop being so sensitive,” and, ultimately, “you should stop watching movies.”

That last one is dropped like some kind of clincher, like the author just hit the Win Button and is now allowed to swagger out of the room, put their sunglasses on, and ride off into the sunset in the vehicle of their choice, and that the conversation is forever dead and buried.

It implies that I’m doing something wrong, that I’m going about the business of watching frames flicker on a wall entirely incorrectly, that what I’m doing is uncool, lame, for dweebs or geeks, and doesn’t advance the social cause of being Awesome™. To me, it sounds a lot like “Shut up so I can concentrate on ignoring this movie better.”

A man by the name of Samuel Taylor Coleridge coined the phrase “willing suspension of disbelief.” When we approach an artistic medium – such as poetry, literature, or film – we understand the tropes and limitations of that particular medium, and we agree to give the author(s) a particular margin of artistic leeway, in order to get the most out of the experience.

Suspension of disbelief has been vital to storytelling ever since its inception. Looking back to the Greek “hero myths,” the one thing most of those heroes had in common was that the gods gave them superpowers. The gods were known to Greek audiences; they accepted the use of the “gods did it” device in the process of storytelling, so they could get to the cathartic bits about chopping off dragons’ heads and ravaging virtuous virgins.

That idea carries over into cinema. You know, when you watch a movie with Bruce Willis in it, that he doesn’t have to worry about firing a gun in public, he never runs out of ammo, that he can jump 20-foot gaps with ease, and that a single well-aimed bullet from his 9mm pistol is enough to cause any vehicle in the street to spontaneously combust. The source of Bruce Willis’ powers lies in the library of cinema leading up to this particular movie; you’ve seen it before, enough times (kind of like “the gods did it”), and exploding cars adds so much to this action scene, that you don’t mind the fact that it’s physically impossible.

It is, of course, possible to push the suspension of disbelief too far. When this happens, a movie’s credibility flees the cinema at the speed of light: think of that bit in Indiana Jones 4 where Indy gets in a fridge to survive a nuclear explosion, or that bit in The Quick And The Dead where the sun shines through a bullet wound, or that bit in Twilight where anyone says or does anything; after that happens, you get a creeping sense of disappointment, like the filmmakers think you’re really stupid.

But you’re not stupid. Do you want to know how I can tell? Because there are billions and billions of human beings all over the world who share 99.9% of each other’s DNA. You may be stupid, then, but you’re no stupider than me; you’re capable of using your brain just as well (or badly) as I am. So why do I get these “stop watching” comments from people?

Once upon a time, art and literature were esoteric pursuits reserved only for the most snobbish, upper-class echelons of society. The obstacle between the lower classes and art was the written language. Now that everyone (at least in this part of the world) is expected to be able to read, the prestige associated with art has been erased, opening the floodgates for more accessible (and sometimes better for it) works. Still, prejudice against classically “prestigious” forms of art remains, like the bitter memories of a jaded lover, and this hurts people’s appreciation of some media.

Adding to this is the 21^st century obsession with instant gratification. Where music used to be a 60-minute story told with a full orchestra in the town hall, rich in content and complex in delivery, music now is a 3-minute pop song that goes verse-chorus-verse-chorus, piped conveniently through the speakers in your car: it’s still music, but it’s music distilled to its most basic, lowest-common-denominator form.

Human beings now want (and expect) everything ready for them on a silver platter by the time they’ve asked for it. That desire extends to music, literature (think of those shallow-yet-thrilling page-turners by the likes of Crichton, King, Clancy and Rowling) and, sadly enough, film.

Consider dance music, a genre devoted solely to invoking the ancient ritual of shaking one’s body to a steady rhythm. Studies have shown that ritualistic movements like this stimulate particular parts of the brain, giving the dancer a sense of satisfaction (which explains why everyone loves dancing so much). Dance music is the ultimate in instant gratification – you don’t even have to think; all you have to do is hear the music and do what comes naturally and you get an emotional kick out of it.

The same holds true for movies. A movie like GI Joe or Twilight is like a dance song. It hits the beats, packs all the explosions and / or lingering looks you want, and tickles the aesthetic, ritualistic part of your brain, without providing a lasting experience you can savour for the rest of your life. But I want more — why shouldn’t film strive to echo the greatest sonatas or arias or ballads? Besides, film already has its equivalent to dance: comedy (a genre devoted to evoking immediate physical responses in the audience).

There is much pleasure to be derived from using your noggin. Great amounts of joy and awe can be gained from exploiting the curiosity / satisfaction loop in our mammalian brains. Rather than being treated as a second-class citizen of the brain, shouldn’t this loop be given more to do? Why shouldn’t it be treated like the wonderful, glorious adaptation that it is?

Movies can stimulate that loop as well as Mozart’s greatest works, while also banging the primal drum of dance music to fire the veins. It’s a one-two punch to our brains, targeting both the reptilian ritual-centre and the mammalian curiosity-centre lurking in our skulls; it’s a great thing when it works in concert, and the best film example I can think of to explain it is 2001: A Space Odyssey.

In 2001, the viewer is often left without any skerrick of explanation or plot for vast tracts of time. For some people this becomes tedious and their disbelief is no longer suspended; it’s boring, it’s too realistic, the spaceships move too slowly, the actors’ voices are funny, etc.

If, instead of immediately switching off when the experience doesn’t meet your quick demands, you start feeding these questions into your brain – why are we still in the plains of Africa? Why is that bone so important? What does this jump-cut signify? – you’ll start to get answers. You won’t get all the answers, that’s not the point; the point is that you get enough answers to suspend your disbelief and keep your eyes glued to the screen. The pleasure derived from answering these questions becomes the driving force of the movie, outweighing the modest visual thrills provided by Kubrick’s hallmark coldness, and providing a unique and resonant film experience.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is Transformers. The movie is loud and flashy, bludgeoning your brain with information so that it’s too stifled to think. If you could think, what questions would you ask? “Why are they going here?” To get to the action scene. “Why are they doing this?” To set up the kiss at the end. “What is the point of this character?” To act as cannon fodder for the enemy.

The answers are so quick to your mind, so familiar and uninspired, that the thinking loop becomes unrewarding, and you stop using it. You rely on the visual and auditory stimulation to provide your pleasure, a pleasure that is big but hollow, kind of like a dance beat that never changes. It delivers the emotional impact you crave, but it’s a stopgap rather than a long-term solution, kind of like choosing a chocolate bar over a three-course meal.

Maybe it’s time we all took pride in the delightful firing of neurons that stirs such storms of joy and fascination in us, instead of continuing to pretend that ignorance is Awesome™, thinking is gay, music is for dancin’ and books are for burnin,’ and that movies are just $100 million babysitters with delusions of grandeur.

Don’t sell yourself short; you’re better than that – I know this because we share the same brain. Maybe we should stop ignoring it and learn to use it. Until that happens, I’m not going to leave my brain at the door; I have too much fun with the thing to let it go.

Call Sheet: Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried, Scream 4, Demi Moore, Angela Bassett and someone will finally be Spider-Man

Call Sheet: Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried, Scream 4, Demi Moore, Angela Bassett and someone will finally be Spider-Man

Jul 05

Call Sheet: A weekly run-down of movie casting news and rumours from around the web.

• Undoubtedly the biggest casting news of the week was the appointment of Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker in the all-new upcoming Spider-Man franchise reboot, being directed by Marc Webb.

• THR revealed the second biggest (potential) casting news of the week: Meryl Streep may be signing on to star in the biopic about Margaret Thatcher, the UK’s first and only female Prime Minister to date. The Iron Lady (yeah…) is being developed by Mumma Mia! director Phyllida Lloyd. Jim Broadbent is in talks to play Margaret Thatcher’s husband, Denis.

• Scream 4 has so many comings and goings it’s been hard to keep track. It’s even had a complete re-write, which, given production has already started, is ironically scary. Anyway, Adam Brody, Marley Shelton, Erik Knudsen, Alison Brie and Mary McDonnell have all joined the cast over the past week.

• Amanda Seyfried is set to star in Disney’s live action retelling of Cinderella, written by The Devil Wears Prada scribe Aline Brosh McKenna. I’m excited by this news because it also means I get to post a photo of Amanda’s gorgeous face. See:

• The New York Times has it on good authority that Paul Reubens will finally return to his PeeWee Herman character in a feature film being directed by Judd Apatow. I don’t know about anyone else, but ‘Pee-Wee’ sorta creeps me out… and not in an entertaining way. At all.

• There’s a popular comic book (sorry, ‘graphic novel’) called Cowboys & Aliens that is being turned into another comic-book-adaptation-feature-film. People are excited about it because it’s being directed by Iron Man 1 & 2 director Jon Favreau, and currently stars Daniel Craig, Olivia Wilde, Harrison Ford and Sam Rockwell (which, granted, is a very impressive cast). Anyway, All My Children‘s Abigail Spencer just joined the cast this week.

• Demi Moore will play Miley Cyrus’ mother in an adaptation of the French film LOL. Yep– that’s Laugh Out Loud. Internet talk in movie titles. Brilliant. Ashley Greene, who plays Alice Cullen in Twilight, and Thomas Jane are also in negotiations to join the film.

• Deadline is reporting that Colin Farrell and Eric Bana are currently in negotiations to star in By Virtue Fall, which will be directed by Up In The Air co-writer Sheldon Turner.

• Slashfilm reckons Bradley Cooper is no longer interested in M. Night Shyamalan‘s next project. After the bashing The Last Airbender has been getting, I’d say it’s a smart move to get as far away as possible.

• THR broke the news that Angela Bassett will star alongside Paula Patton in Jumping the Broom, a wedding-themed ensemble comedy directed by Salim Akil. She’s a fantastic actress, but every time I see her I always see Michael Jackson’s mother from that 90′s mini-series The Jacksons.

• While everyone was scoffing about how fucking stupid an idea the LEGO movie is, Warner Brothers went ahead and hired Chris Miller and Phil Lord to direct. They were responsible for Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs, which was surprisingly good and entertaining. So, now what are we supposed to think, WB? You’ve got some fresh directors but a product with NO PLOT… the screenplay/logline/premise is going to be damn interesting, whenever it is revealed.

• David Fincher‘s The Social Network just got a little more interesting for fans of Nine Inch Nails: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross are writing the score for the film.

• And finally, in a rumour that will never go away for a project that will likely never happen, producer Jerry Bruckheimer still thinks Tom Cruise might be up for Top Gun 2. Because that’s what the world needs right now. It’s not the 80′s any more, Bruckheimer… move on, please.

THE THING prequel gets a release date

THE THING prequel gets a release date

Jun 16

Matthijs van Heijningen’s The Thing prequel has been slapped with a 29 April 2011 US release date. If you already forgot, Iron Man 2 opened in that slot this year and did pretty good business. But Iron Man 2 had Iron Man, Robert Downey Jr., and Scarlet Johanssen’s chest going for it. What does The Thing have going for it? Some Aussie bloke called Joel Edgerton, John McLane’s daughter from Die Hard 4.0 (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), and that really hairy guy who used to write all the Klingon episodes of Star Trek (Ronald D Moore). As much as I want this movie to be awesome, forgive me if I’m not salivating in my computer chair just yet.

Antarctica: an extraordinary continent of awesome beauty. It is also home to an isolated outpost where a discovery full of scientific possibility becomes a mission of survival when an alien is unearthed by a crew of international scientists. The shape-shifting creature, accidentally unleashed at this marooned colony, has the ability to turn itself into a perfect replica of any living being. It can look just like you or me, but inside, it remains inhuman. In the thriller The Thing, paranoia spreads like an epidemic among a group of researchers as they’re infected, one by one, by a mystery from another planet.

Paleontologist Kate Lloyd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) has traveled to the desolate region for the expedition of her lifetime. Joining a Norwegian scientific team that has stumbled across an extraterrestrial ship buried in the ice, she discovers an organism that seems to have died in the crash eons ago. But it is about to wake up.

When a simple experiment frees the alien from its frozen prison, Kate must join the crew’s pilot, Carter (Joel Edgerton), to keep it from killing them off one at a time. And in this vast, intense land, a parasite that can mimic anything it touches will pit human against human as it tries to survive and flourish.

Autumn review round-up: some duds, some gems, and a couple of shrugs

Autumn review round-up: some duds, some gems, and a couple of shrugs

Jun 01

It’s winter again. I can tell because I have a cold, my cats look more woolly than your average sheep, and it’s starting to rain every time I go to put the washing out. That can mean only one thing: the dreary cinematic graveyard season of autumn is finally passing. And what a mixed season it was!

Autumn heralded some of the most (and some of the least) anticipated flicks of the year. We got Iron Man 2, Robin Hood, Prince Of Persia, and Kick-Ass, we got some reboots in the form of A Nightmare On Elm Street and Alice In Wonderland, and we got a slew of new and original flicks, like The Blind Side, She’s Out Of My League, Beneath Hill 60. We also got the usual mix of good and bad flicks, with a few great ones here and there.

Here’s a rundown of the films we reviewed this season, organised from lowest score to highest:

A Nightmare On Elm Street – 02 / 100

Green Zone – 08 / 100

The Prince Of Persia: Sands Of Time – 36 / 100

Alice In Wonderland – 39 / 100

Cop Out – 48 / 100

Hot Tub Time Machine - 53 / 100

Clash Of The Titans – 68 / 100

The Blind Side – 71 / 100

Iron Man 2 – 71 – 100

The Book Of Eli – 71 / 100

Kick-Ass – 73 / 100

She’s Out Of My League – 73 / 100

Beneath Hill 60 – 76 / 100

Crazy Heart – 89 / 100

Robin Hood - 96 / 100

Today marks the six-month anniversary of the day Reel Thinker officially launched; happy anniversary to us! Some small changes are going to be made to the blog over the next couple of weeks, so bear with us and, as always, your comments are welcome and appreciated.

And just in case you missed it, here’s our summer review round-up.

IRON MAN 2 review: no girls allowed

IRON MAN 2 review: no girls allowed

Apr 29

Julie Andrews suggests I start the very beginning (which is apparently a very good place to start), so I’ll do that:

Iron Man 2 starts off bad.

There’s an awkward opening scene establishing Mickey Rourke’s “Whiplash” character that comes off hideously awkward and unnecessary, which plunges quickly into a vomit-inducingly sexist scene involving various swooping close-ups of womens’ body parts as they gyrate in moody lighting and then — as if to top it all off — Jon Favreau himself (the film’s director) appears on screen as Tony Stark’s slave / assistant. What pretentiousness! thought I. What nerve!

After making a pretty naff first impression, Iron Man 2 eventually lurched into gear, but the movie I found myself in wasn’t at all familiar. Maybe my memories of the first flick are too vague, and maybe Terrence Howard’s forced removal and replacement subconsciously confused the heck out of me, but Iron Man 2 didn’t really feel like a sequel to begin with. Sure, Robert Downey Jr’s in this one, and he’s still a prick, and Gwyneth Paltrow’s here, and she’s still a bit prickly, but nothing really jived too well and I started wondering if Iron Man 2 was yanking my chain.

Then the action scenes started and I remembered why I was here: because Iron Man’s awesome. That’s really the long and short of it, and it’s the reason why we go to see his movies. Out of the suit he’s the kind of asshole we only dream of someday becoming, and in the suit he’s the kind of red and gold robot fellow whose toys — ahem, ACTION FIGURES — we used to play with as boys. If we were boys — I know I was one, at least once; 50/50 odds that you were, too.

Without this boyish awesomeness these movies would be ridiculous. You wouldn’t find a character like Tony Stark in a Serious Movie, because his personality and abilities are larger than life. Which is fine, if you like that kind of thing, but I couldn’t help but feel two things: a) this is a boys only club (no girls allowed!), and b) the movie would’ve been better served by a more rapid and less circuitous route to the boyish awesomeness.

To elaborate on point a), Jon Favreau must be some kind of chauvinist dog, because he takes every opportunity to objectify women (other than Gwyneth Paltrow). The vomit-inducing shots I mentioned above are one problem, but framing a shot with Scarlett Johanssen’s figure is another. I know a lot of people (read: men) don’t give two hoots about this, so I won’t repeat myself here, but bear in mind that Iron Man 2 is shamelessly sexist, and that this is a bad thing. Also Johanssen’s performance isn’t too crash hot. Just sayin’.

Point b) is pretty self-explanatory. There is a fantastic scene in which Whiplash makes himself known to the world at large, and while the scene is appropriately awesome (in a boyish way), it would’ve had even greater impact if we’d never seen Whiplash before. I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that the two scenes with Whiplash that are thrown into the first act before his big reveal could have been removed entirely. Then the ensuing scenes involving Whiplash would have a bit more mystery and confusion and — perhaps — tension to them that are lacking here.

Those are my two main gripes. Other than that, Iron Man 2 is an exemplary middle child: building on the first film while leaving the door wide open for a third. There’s even the customary Act 2 self-doubt and moral complexity you’d expect from a good Marvel film, but it’s not carried as far as it could be here, which brings me to my third main gripe (sorry): Tony Stark.

RDJ’s performance in the role is rock solid. He’s quick, sharp, unpredictable, impeccably groomed — but there’s something about Tony Stark that just bugs me. I don’t remember why he’s so rich, so I’ll accept that as a given; but how does he know how to build a high-intensity laser beam with his bare hands in a matter of hours? I didn’t realise he took advanced physics alongside his professional asshole-ism course. Of course, that’s just my personal ignorance talking, and comic book fanatics will lap this up like there’s no tomorrow, but for me there were a couple of things that were just a wee bit too implausible (which, in a comic book flick, says a lot).

Oh yeah, there’s also Sam Rockwell as Justin Hammer, possibly the most annoying character I’ve ever seen in a Marvel movie. Rockwell’s performance is fine, but the film cuts back to him a few too many times, and he becomes really annoying after a while. HINT: he’ll probably play a big part in Iron Man 3 and / or The Avengers.

Anyway that’s enough of the bad stuff, let’s talk about the good. The action scenes are still good, filled with richly-rendered robotic violence, but they’re all spoiled to some extent by the trailers. I hate the feeling you get when you’re half-way through a movie and you’re subconsciously ticking off scenes from the trailer that have already been shown and you realise that the best bit of the trailer is yet to come, and that it’s likely to be in the climax of the film. There should be a rule that trailers can only take footage from the first three reels of a film. Also, trailers shouldn’t be allowed to suck.

Also making a return appearance is Tony Stark’s mind-boggling futuristic super-advanced super-hero-only software technology, voiced by Paul Bettany, whereby he manipulates floating holograms with his bare hands. This is a strange thing to bring up in a review, I know, but it’s awesome. Science and technology play a vital role in Iron Man’s universe, and it’s cool to see them introduced and dealt with in such a hip way. Whether or not this tech will appear hip in 20 years is another matter entirely.

The script is good — I think. I mean, I didn’t consciously think “Hang on, what?” and I didn’t roll my eyes at any of the dialogue, which is a good sign, especially in a comic book movie. I have the feeling the script might have lost its way in the middle, where things get a bit muddled, but otherwise it gives the characters plenty to do without becoming overly predictable or ridiculous. The cinematography is similarly delightful: the nauseating aerial shots are shot in a realistic manner, which lends a bit of pizzazz to the dogfights peppered throughout the movie.

I wonder if superhero movies are in decline. There used to be a time — granted, I was only like 12 back then — when going to see the latest Spider-Man or X-Men movie meant rolicking action and good old-fashioned characters. I get that Tony Stark’s a more post-modern superhero, more of a playboy bully than a dweeby do-gooder, but that really robs Iron Man 2 of the warmth inherent in some of those previous films.

Nevertheless Iron Man 2 is a robust and polished exercise in comic bookery, but I still feel obliged to ask the ladies in the audience to come at the film with patience — lots and lots of patience — because sometimes men are idiots, and sometimes men like to relive their childhoods; in this case, Iron Man 2 is a spiffing, if sometimes perfunctory, amalgamation of both.

Iron Man 2 score

71/100