Of "Armchair Movie Executives": Some Thoughts

Not long ago I read an article (which I refrain from naming or linking) remarking--frankly, lamenting--what its author saw as the transformation of the moviegoing public--of people who have no personal stake in how films do whatsoever--into "armchair movie executives," endlessly gabbing about the business of movies, to the point of overshadowing the movies themselves, while also expressing befuddlement at the development.

I think his sense of this was exaggerated. I suspect that those who pay much attention to what movies cost and make are a small minority--but it so happens that small minorities tend to be a lot more noticeable than silent majorities, here as in other areas of life, and the Internet has permitted them to be much more noticeable indeed. I also suspect that those who are interested mostly pay attention to just a very small proportion of the films that are produced. (Those who do care what movies make are much more concerned with blockbusters than small dramas such as Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, and with some blockbusters rather than others--the evidence, apparently, that they care much more about how the Marvel superhero films will do than, for example, how Fast X will do.)

Still, I do think that, all things considered, more people are paying attention, and individually many of them are paying more attention, than before--and that the author of the piece in question was right when he suggested that easy access to the relevant data played its part. But this only permitted it to happen, rather than compelling the armchair executives to use the data.

It also seems that the situation is substantially of Hollywood's creation, specifically how it makes and markets films these days.

If it appalled the author of the article in question that the public speaks of "franchises," that is because just about every big movie is a franchise movie now--as was not the case before, with key to the plan cashing in on name recognition, and relentless invidious comparison of the new with the old. "Didn't you just hate that?" they'd say in that gratingly wheedling way as they run down that older film while trying to talk up the new. Many of us would say, "No, we didn't hate it," but they did raise the issue all the same, and thus induced us to think about the relationship of one to the other.

If more people know more of the numbers, that is because the studios' claqueurs are always tossing them about, with reports of big salaries, big budgets, big grosses intended to make them think "This is something special. This is something I have to see," to the point of using a movie's being a hit, or even just having the makings of a hit, to make more people go see it, just like the practice of persuading people to buy books by telling them they are bestsellers--which, unavoidably, makes them attentive to the matter of what is selling.

Of course, some people are more responsive to all this than others. Those who belong to a particular "fandom," for example, tend to be interested in everything to do with the work of which they are fans, and are famously attentive to history and detail--with this not necessarily excluding the economics of the matter--which tends to be a factor in the heightened interest in them, all as Hollywood is making so many more movies that come with a fandom attached (as with its superhero comics-based films).

It also matters a great deal that they so often offend those fans--who are so inclined to seize on the now more available than ever evidence to support their arguments that what they did not like, no one else did, either.

There are also those who have had more than a purely "fan" interest--for example, anyone who has ever fancied themselves writing a screenplay, maybe studied up on it a bit, maybe read the trade publications in the hope of learning something. The number of such persons relative to those who actually make a living in Hollywood is not small, and they do not all live in the Los Angeles area by any means. It is quite possible to gain an interest in the financial performance of films this way. (Indeed, even before the Internet you could read Variety at your local library, and be presented with a wealth of financial minutiae.) And even if such interest was never very serious or very lengthy one does not necessarily give it up. Quite the contrary, the fantasy of being in Hollywood can play its part here, the whiff of "insider information" another way the publicists have of getting a hold of the audience's imagination as it makes its sales pitch.

And there are also the factors that let all this loom larger next to the interest of other sides of film and their interest. Hollywood, notably, has long relied on the "star" system to interest the public in movies--but the star system has long been in decline, which means that other ways of catching people's interest more conspicuous. There are times when Hollywood has seemed exciting artistically--and others where it has not, with our period falling into the latter category, making it the easier for the economics to overshadow the art. (Indeed, film critic David Walsh, no worshiper of high film grosses or lover of gossip for gossip's sake, who is at least as attuned to cinema as art as any critic working today, titled his review of Marvel's Black Widow "Black Widow: The Surrounding Controversies are More Interesting and Revealing Than the Film.")

Those who would lament the decline of interest in film as an art form--I would like to make it clear that they have my sympathies--would therefore do better to see in the proliferation of armchair movie executives not the problem, but only a symptom.