Best Film Ensembles of All Time Part III: 11-20 Adam's List

This is Part III of a series in which Adam Spector of Adam's Rib and I count down out top 50 film ensembles of all time. Part I is here and Part II is here and the final ten are here. Because Adam and I went into so much detail, we split this entry into two with the other entry here. Part V is here.

Adam's List
11. The Sting 12. Dazed and Confused 13. Do the Right Thing 14. Eight Men Out 15. Fast Times at Tidgemont High 16. American Graffiti 17. Short Cuts 18. Glengarry Glen Ross 19. Prince of the City 20. The Royal Tenenbaums

 Orrin's Response:

In your attempts to disqualify certain films from my list for not being ensemble films, you make an interesting point. While we've both pointed to films with ensembles we admire (Dead Poets Society or Back to the Future fall into this category), the ensemble film itself is a genre of sorts both in how it's presented to the audiences and how those audiences look for familiar conventions (for example, the skillful spreading out of a narrative over several characters) within those films. 

Put in more commercial terms, an ensemble film is also how a movie is sold: Look at the posters to Grand Budapest Hotel or Emilio Estevez's Bobby and the main message is "look at how many stars we were able to get into one picture!"

I would argue that the "ensemble film" angle is pretty much the only reason anyone could possibly have gotten excited about the 2012 film The Avengers (or any of its subsequent sequels and pseudo-sequels) and why it's the fifth highest grossing film ever. 

Part of what we've applauded is bold ways of going about casting (in commercial terms, we can call this a gimmick although I don't think it deserves the pejorative connotation). Salt of the Earth used actual miners, The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 used actual ex-convicts, Around the World in 80 Days loaded the cast with cameos, It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (and Stephen Soderbergh's Informant also tried this) used a who's who of comic actors, but as you point out in the latter case, just putting in those people on screen doesn't equal great results.

An example is Do the Right Thing. Spike Lee's bold approach (or gimmick) was having a full cast loaded with more black people than I imagine audiences even knew of at the time. I imagine it was just Denzel Washington, Lawrence Fishburne (who worked with Spike Lee on his last film), Ossie Davis, Morgan Freeman, and that guy who won an Oscar for An Officer and a Gentleman were the only black people audiences could name at the time, and he showed one could fill a great film with a dozen or so black actors all turning excellent performances. He even took a chance on his own sister and it worked! What's more, there's a lot of texture and color in all of the parts which must have been a game changer. And that's not to mention the humanizing turn of Danny Aiello.

Prince of the City, similarly, is a bold achievement in casting. It condensed a highly detailed police case with an incredibly dense source material, Robert Daley's 1978 account of an informant in the police department responsible for 52 indictments. The fact that the final screenplay has over 100 speaking parts must be a big deal as it's mentioned on both TCM and IMDB's trivia section (and pretty much any review of the movie if you google "over 100 speaking parts" "prince of the city"). But at the risk of offending the Sidney Lumet estate (and you for graciously lending me the DVD), this is another case where bold casting doesn't necessarily equal a great ensemble in my opinion. I don't really need to argue this through quantitative means because I got all the evidence I need when I went over to the IMDB page to write about the actors and couldn't remember any of them except for the ones I already knew (all three of them). All I remember about this film a mere three weeks after watching it is Jerry Orbauch has a sinister smile and that Bob Balaban is in the film with an inordinate amount of hair. And I'll go a step further and posit that because the ensemble fails, the film fails as a whole to justify its 3-hour running time (something that admittedly tries my patience more with home viewing). The film needed some of the color that say Danny Aiello or Ossie Davis bought to their parts.

A great example of a supporting role that adds color is in my favorite Coen Brothers film, O Brother Where Art Thou?, Charles Durning delivers a larger-than-life performance that plays on our imagination of Southern populist archetypes as Pappy O'Daniel. It was because of that performance that whenever I see Durning in a film's opening credits, I get a tinge of anticipation over what he will do. That's how character actors and ensemble pieces serve as gateways to other films. It's how Prince and the City (at least for me) failed to introduce me to a single intriguing actor, but how I started to get intrigued enough to decide to give The Sting a try. 

I'm glad I did because there are a million great things about both the film and its ensemble. Chief among them, Robert Shaw is a terrifying villain. His physical embodiment of the part was so masterful, that I half-believed he trained himself not to blink. It also helps that Charles Dierkop mirrors the gravity of his presence so well as a personal body guard. I also think it's interesting to note that Eileen Brennan is downright oozing with sexiness here and this is only seven years removed from her role in Private Benjamin where she's largely an asexual and menacing counterpoint to the happy-go-lucky troops under her command. There's also Robert Earl Jones in a part that treats race as such a non-issue, it almost feels like the part could have been written for a white person. I suppose that's good? But appropriately enough, this is largely about the lead and that's Robert Redford. I always found it odd that Paul Newman and Robert Redford are two actors of roughly equivalent caliber yet Paul Newman has nine Oscar nominations and Redford has one. I just looked it up and it's apparently this movie that Redford has his only Oscar nomination which is fitting since he really steals the show. His character is a guy who has to project confidence for a living, but Redford imbues the role with a definite sense of anxiety layered underneath and that adds a much needed sense of tension.

Lastly, Eight Men Out: I like this plenty as a movie, but I think I love it as an ensemble pick. It just looks so ridiculous on paper: Sherriff Pepper (the silliest character bar-none in the entire JamesBond series) as a baseball commissioner? You have rising stars Charlie Sheen and John Cusack in your cast but you're going to relegate them to supporting roles while having a nobody (D.B. Sweeney) as Shoeless Joe Jackson (the only character I knew of from this chapter in history)? Turns it out it's a far more interesting film to make Joe Jackson more of an uninteresting accessory and honing in on John Cusack as the main character because his character of Buck Weaver did actually have the free agency to at least decide something while Jackson sat on the fence. It's thematically appropriate to have the more charismatic actor steal the thunder. They don't have much Charlie Sheen here but after watching some episodes of Two and a Half Men, I don't mind never seeing that guy act again, though I found it a puzzling from a commercial perspective. Michael Rooker also is a striking image as first baseman Chick Gandil because he has the body type of a jock which is why it's understandable he might not have been cast in much else.

The other actor that I felt glued to here was David Strathairn who is perhaps best known for his Oscar-nominated turn in Good Night and Good Luck but who I have come to know on a weekly basis from the SyFy series Alphas (which made my top ten a few years ago) where he plays a Professor X type. It was really surreal to see him play a youthful athletic type and I was really impressed.

I didn't get around to watching Short Cuts, but, hey I've seen seven Robert Altman films at this point, and while I like his style just fine, I couldn't get myself to watch another one of his films because I know so much what to expect. To use a Passover reference, let me ask you the manishtana of movie questions (and feel free to imagine the voice of an 8-year old singing these words): "Why is this Robert Altman film different from all other Robert Altman films?, from all other Robert Altman films?"

The other film I never got around to watching was Dazed and Confused? Are you sure you're not confusing that with Slackers? They seem like the exact same thing?

Adam's response:

There’s nothing wrong with all-star casts in and of themselves, but like anything their worth depends on how they are used.  In 1974, Sidney Lumet directed Murder on the Orient Express, which came earlier on my list.  That worked because the actors although stars were right for their parts and served the story.  However, there were other films in that era, such as The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure, and other disaster movies, where as you noted the all-star cats didn’t really add much and were more of a marketing gimmick.  Some later Woody Allen films, such as To Rome with Love, felt the same way.   It can be used to mask a mediocre story or production.

By contrast, filling the screen with unknown actors, especially if they are indigenous to that area, can lend a film authenticity.  For example, I recently saw Tanna, set on the remote Pacific Coast Island of that name, where the roles were played by members of a local tribe.  That may be an extreme example, but for Matewan, also earlier on my list, John Sayles said that he cast many actors from areas of West Virginia similar to where the film was set.      

That brings us to Prince of the City, on which we will likely never agree. Lumet cast many unknown New York theater actors.  Many of them were not heard from again in any major way, but I don’t think that takes away from their performances.  For that movie and for those roles they succeeded.   Together, they all successfully portrayed an insular world gradually closing in.    Treat Williams didn’t become the major star he seemed destined to be at one point.   Still here he has both the cockiness and vulnerability to be the tragic hero the film needs.    And the film was not without standouts, including Orbach who fit as a tough sarcastic New York cop so well he would return to it often for the rest of his life, Lindsay Crouse, and the aforementioned James Tolkan.

So let me move to where we do agree.  The Coen Brothers are masters at finding the right actors to bring color to supporting roles.  It started with their first film, Blood Simple, with M. Emmet Walsh as the greedy private eye.    They worked with Steve Buscemi, John Turturro, John Carroll Lynch, Peter Stomare, Ben Gazzara, Jon Polito, Tim Blake Nelson, and so many other That Guy actors.  You could argue that they cast their films like no one else.  Charles Durning in O, Brother Where Art Thou?, as you noted, has fun with Southern archetypes.  He did the same thing in The Muppet Movie as the villain, Doc Hopper.   

Source: HelensDelicious.Blogspot.com

The truth is that Durning is a true supporting actor who made the leading men, and the films, better, whether it was George Clooney in O, Brother Where Art Thou?, Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, or even the Muppets.  I am glad that he led you to The Sting, which was his big break.   Ironically, The Sting is often grouped together with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, as both were directed by Gorge Roy Hill, and of course featured Paul Newman and Robert Redford.  But those two films are very different.  Butch Cassidy is a true buddy movie centering on the two title characters.  The Sting, as you noted, has so much more than the two stars.  Someday I need to go back and see more of Robert Shaw’s films, as I have only seen him in four.  The physical embodiment you speak of is both Shaw’s talent and a happy accident.  Shortly before filming Shaw hurt his knee playing tennis.  With little alternative, Shaw made the limp part of the character, which somehow added to the menace.  Besides the actors you note, there’s also Harold Gould, who steals every scene as the elegant Kid Twist, and Ray Walston who performs verbal gymnastics as the fake race announcer.     You had an insightful take on Redford, projecting confidence but with anxiety layered underneath.  He did the same in The Candidate and All the President’s Men.  

John Sayles excelled at ensemble casting, and I could have included much more of his films than I did.  Eight Men Out was such a nuanced, complex take on the Black Sox scandal that it could have only worked with a wide range of talented actors.  Sayles has never relied on star power, and it’s no accident that he relegated Sheen to the background while Sweeney and Cusack did more of the heavy lifting. Before this Cusack had been doing mostly teen films.  Clearly Sayles saw something in him that others missed.  Cusack’s final monologue perfectly captures Buck Weaver’s love for the game and the bitterness at the way he was treated.  Sayles discovered Strathairn and cast him several times.  It looked like Strathairn might become a leading man after Good Night and Good Luck but you get the sense that he prefers to let others have the spotlight.  

Source: AMC.com

 

Let’s close with your two questions (we need two more to fully merit your Ma Nishtana reference, but there’s one more entry left).  Short Cuts certainly shared the ensemble DNA of many of Altman’s signature films, Nashville in particular.   I included this because each smaller story could have worked as its own film, largely on the strength of the acting.  Altman combines stars such as Jack Lemmon, some of his usual suspects, such as Lily Tomlin and Lyle Lovett, with character actors. Jennifer Jason Leigh pulls off playing a phone sex line worker getting a caller off while simultaneously taking care of her young kids which such aplomb that it should have gotten her an Oscar nomination 22 years before she finally got one.  

Finally, while Richard Linklater directed both Slacker and Dazed and Confused, both are set in the Austin era, and both feature excellent ensembles, they are not very similar. The former, as noted earlier, goes from one set of characters to the next, never to return.  The latter is more of an American Graffiti type ensemble film, where the characters have their own adventures but they all connect.  Dazed and Confused created the Matthew McConaughey persona while also providing an early showcase for Ben Affleck and Parker Posey.   Linklater filled out the cast with up-and-coming character actors, including Adam Goldberg, Anthony Rapp, Joey Lauren Adams, Rory Cochrane and Wiley Wiggins.    Give it a chance.

 

Discussing TV vs. Movies with Adam Spector Part III

This is Part III of a series where my friend Adam  Spector and I debate the merits of movies verses television. Adam keeps a column on film here and leads a film discussion group in DC every month and has a highly impressive knowledge of films. Our discussion began here with my confession that I watch way more TV than films these days because TV has so many built-in advantages. In Part II, we discussed how TV had threatened films before but movies responded with innovation and considered the possibility that movies might not have as much in their bag of tricks.
 
Orrin -- Well, we've certainly had strong powers of persuasion over one another. Your first response made me reconsider strongly whether it was foolish to proclaim films in decline, and now you've changed your tune (I suppose Mark Harris' article also had something to do with it).

First off, I wouldn't entirely say that I'm averse to franchise films. I enjoyed Star Trek into Darkness and X-Men Days of Future Past as well as Iron Man 2 and, hey, I even spent $12.50 watching Horrible Bosses II last week. What all those films have in common is that I saw Part I. It wouldn't make sense to watch Captain America II or Kick Ass II or Wrath of the Titans when I didn't see Part I of those films and there are only so many Part Is I'm willing to see in a given year. In other words, the sequels and movies meant to launch sequels are overloading me at this point. Similarly, something like Guardians of the Galaxy which seems intended solely to have sequels is also a turn-off. My feeling of alienation when I check out what's playing at the movie theater and  see mostly Part IIs and Part IIIs to films I didn't see in the first place. 

I theorize that as long as there's a best picture race (and I wonder if expanding it from 5 to up to 10 pictures was Hollywood's saving grace) studios will care enough to try and get their products into those 5-10 slots. This year there are not just going to be 9-10 pictures but it seems like there's another 7 or 8 knocking on the door of a best picture nomination: Foxcatcher, Boyhood, Birdman, Gone Girl, Whiplash, Grand Budapest Hotel, Theory of Everything, Imitation Game, Unbroken, and Selma might be the ten if it gets filled out to maximum capacity with American Sniper, Wild, Mr Turner, A Most Violent Year, Inherent Vice, and Nightcrawler all having the potential to play spoiler. All of those films were clearly made with the intent of getting some awards attention and the result allowed art verse commerce to win. That's not even counting ambitious films that came out to mixed reviews like Homesman or Interstellar and films that could result in acting nominations like Still Alice, St Vincent, Snowpiercer, The Judge or Big Eyes.

In all, I just listed 25 films all somehow tied to the Oscar race in some way or another and I'm likely forgetting a few. I think the larger question is how these people are getting films made. It might be that the end of Hollywood as we know it hasn't arrived just yet, but we could be getting to the cusp. I could see someone like Tim Burton staying in the film game as some of his films like "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" and "Alice in Wonderland" have shown he can make money. Obviously Christopher Nolan isn't going anywhere. But what about Alejandro Inarritu, the promising J.C. Chandor (who directed Margin Call and All is Lost)  or Jean-Marc Vallee?

There's likely always good films out there that are falling below the radar as well of the independent variety. I used to hang out in a movie group (circa 2008-2009) that would see films I never even knew existed before I went to see them like Brideshead Revisited, Bottleshock, Towelhead, Gonzo, The Brothers Bloom, and "In the Loop" (this one ended up getting a lot of awards attention later on). Similar examples of recent films in that below the radar category might be "Bernie" "Safety Not Guaranteed" "Robot and Frank" or "No." It's hard to say whether these films were better or worse than (surely a few are) but they generally aren't part of the national conversation on movies and are generally not accessible. In some cases, it's a little less fun to view films that aren't in the national conversation. I couldn't really check my opinion on "Brideshead Revisited" against friends or people on IMDB because so few people had seen or heard of that film. If the film is good, one hopes for several reasons that it's part of the national conversation. There's also a question of whether those below-the-radar films are under threat.

But the bottom line is what would have to happen to affect change? The article suggests that this is simply the result of executives who are no longer interested in art. If I'm not mistaken, the Weinstein Brothers at Miramax were champions of ambition and funded many Oscar-calliber films and passion projects. Would it simply take a couple more executives like the Weinsteins to turn things around?

Adam – I’d like to think that I have not “changed my tune.”  There are very troubling signs about the future of movies but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up or that we can start giving cinema its last rites. 

That said, the numbers are not good.  Box office for 2014 dropped five percent from 2013 and the total number of tickets sold is the lowest since 1993 (http://grantland.com/hollywood-prospectus/the-box-office-winners-losers-of-2014/).   The major theater chains’ panicky retreat with The Interview opened the door wider for simultaneous theater and VOD releases, which the those same theater chains have fought bitterly.    

If Hollywood studios are scared, and they probably should be, then they are even more likely to play conservative and rely heavily on franchise films.  For every one person like yourself, who may not see a Part II because he hasn’t seen Part I, the studios are betting on many more people who have seen Part I feeling compelled to see Parts II, III and IV.

As I noted, I have no problem with franchise films, provided they are made intelligently.  Luckily many of them have been lately.  But one problem with having so many of them is that you lose the element of surprise.  Even if they are made well, to some degree you know what you are going to get.  Of course this predictability is what studios are banking on. 

For me though, one of cinema’s joys is discovery.  A few years ago I got off work early and had time to kill.  I walked to the Landmark E Street Theater and picked a film called Timecrimes purely on the basis of it starting soon and having not seen it before.   I walked into the theater not knowing anything about  Timecrimes  other than that it was a Spanish thriller.  I walked out exhilarated.   Timecrimes brilliantly deconstructed the idea of time travel by playing the same story through different angles.  It trusted the audience to follow the complex story and filling in the details as they are slowly revealed.  Films such as Timecrimes, or Boyhood more recently, give us that unique opportunity to see something on film that we have not seen before. 

With the franchise films, it’s not surprise or discovery but anticipation.  The studios want your overwhelming feeling upon leaving the theater to be not so much “What a great film!” but rather ‘I can’t wait until the next one!”  For us that feeling can be a little deflating.  First, the endless hype before a film can build up expectation so much that disappointment is almost inevitable.  Second, it can be more challenging to get into a film if you know it’s only getting you from point B to point C in a five part storyline. 

You made a good point about the Oscar race.  For as much as we may criticize the Oscars, the prestige of winning them may be the one remaining factor that gets more adult-oriented non-franchise films made.  I don’t believe that the filmmakers themselves set out to win an Oscar.  But the studios decision to make or even distribute these kinds of films could largely be awards driven.    

It may take more people like the Weinsteins to stem the tide we are in.  Thankfully the Weinsteins are still active and are distributing films such as The Imitation Game.  Some of the others helping are not distributors, but people with wealth and clout who have their own production companies.    Oprah Winfrey’s Harpo Pictures helped finance Precious, The Butler, and most recently Selma.  Brad Pitt’s Plan B also supported Selma and last year supported 12 Years a Slave.  Megan Ellison’s Annapurna Pictures financed Zero Dark Thirty, The Master, Her, American Hustle and Foxcatcher.

It's people like Winfrey, Pitt and Ellison who still give me hope.  It’s also the fact that in the past year, I saw original and daring films from Wes Anderson, Richard Linklater, Alejandro González Iñárritu, David Fincher, Steve James, and Michael Winterbottom.  This week I am going to see films by Clint Eastwood, Paul Thomas Anderson and Mike Leigh.  Angelina Jolie has proven that she’s a talented director.  So have emerging new voices Ava DuVernay, Damien Chazelle and Morten Tyldum.  

Closer to home, the Arclight just opened in Bethesda as has Ipic.  Between those, the Landmark theaters, the Angelika, and the AFI Silver, we in the DC area have plenty of choices that offer more than the traditional multiplex.  We have access to film festivals, independent cinema and documentaries here.   How much can I really complain?

We and others with similar access must take advantage of our opportunities.   We must also do our part to shape the conversation.  The franchise films will always have a disproportionately large share of the spotlight.  But those of us that love all kinds of films should use the Internet, social media, and even old-fashioned conversation to let people know about the smaller films, the ones that take chances.  I’m trying to do that in my own small way with the Cinema Lounge and my Adam’s Rib column.  You’ve been doing that in your many venues and through your blogs such as this one.  It’s been a privilege to be a part of your world.  Thank you, and I hope we can do it again.       

   

Me and Adam Spector Discuss TV vs Movies Part II

My friend Adam Spector keeps a column on film here and leads a film discussion group in DC every month. I've attended the group but I recently confessed to Adam that I like television a lot more these days which sparked the idea that we should settle the argument once and for all on my blog. This is part two of our no-holds-barred (True fact: I've never typed those words before on a screen, they look much funnier in this format) battle of wits between two intellectual giants with a lot of free time on their hands.

Part I was here and before presenting Part II, I will post the last few lines of Adam's post:

"But there’s still nothing like sitting in a movie theater, having the light go down, and being totally immersed in a film.  No cell phones and no distractions.  Just you and the movie. 

Orrin, you and I have both noted the talent that has worked in TV.  But many of them, including Scorsese, Fincher, McConaughey and Spacey also work in film.  They haven’t focused on one at the expense of the other, and neither should we. "

Round II

Orrin-- That's true that TV in the 1950's was a significant threat to the movies as box office receipts dropped. It's also a fitting parallel that just like JJ Abrams and Joss Wheedon ascending to the elite as movie directors rather quickly, so did John Frankenheimer, Delbert Mann and Sidney Lumet after cutting their teeth in television.

But I think there's a key difference. TV didn't threaten the movies by being a superior art form. They threatened movies simply by existing and being novel. TV was actually behind the times in terms of quality. While films were getting risque with "The Seven Year Itch" and "Pillow Talk" (and well over a decade after "Gilda" "The Big Sleep" and "Double Indemnity"), TV's most progressive show at the time, "I Love Lucy" shied away from even suggesting that a husband and wife could sleep in the same bed. In the interim "Leave it to Beaver" and "Andy Griffith Show" (which debuted in 1960) reinforced conservative American family values while Douglas Sirk was tearing the image of the American family apart in films like "Imitation of Life" and "Written on the Wind." And that's not to mention other 50's films like "Splendor in the Grass," "Searchers," "Three Faces of Eve," "Salt of the Earth," "Defiant Ones," and "Night of the Hunter" that deal with murder, racism, mental illness, the red scare and economic depression. As the code was being broken in the movies, it was being reinforced on TV.

Movies evolved by innovating. They tried some nutty ideas like smell-a-scope and 3-D but more to the point, cinema also evolved through delivering what TV couldn't: Epics. "Ben-Hur", "Ten Commandments" and "Lawrence of Arabia" were all highly successful films that came about in the decade after TV started to hit homes and couldn't be replicated on the small screen particularly easily. It also seems that talent always had something to do with the equation. I mentioned last time we met that I thought Blake Edwards defined the '60s as a director and was responsible for my favorite films of that decade. If we had one less Blake Edwards, film would have been changed.

While you mention that many talents navigate both film and television, I can't help but feel TV talent might be exerting a toll on film. If you check Kathy Bates' filmography, she's pretty exclusively in TV and Jane Fonda, who hasn't been very prolific as an actress since the '80s, has devoted her time to "The Newsroom" and her upcoming Netflix project. Similarly, another talented actress Maggie Gyllenhaal has nothing on her slate after acting in "The Honourable Woman." Actors have the freedom to navigate both mediums nowadays but they might choose TV over film when making a decision and become known as a TV actor like Ted Danson, Kelsey Grammer or Julia Louis-Dreyfus and that makes TV more glamorous.

You're right that moviedom isn't dead and I'm not suggesting good movies aren't out there. I think a smaller percentage of movies that are released are worth watching as opposed to a decade ago, but I'm not suggesting that movies as a medium are dead. I'm wondering though what's left in filmdom's bag of tricks. What's their 3-D/cinemascope grand plan? (I'm just remembering as I typed that last sentence that 3-D movies are back in style these days). In that sense, television might be a greater threat to movies today because TV is innovating faster than movies in everything from economics (With ITunes and TV on Demand, the pay models are evolving whereas movies are forced to ride demand out with increasing ticket prices and ridiculously priced concessions) to the actual content itself.

Adam – You have caught me at a bad time Orrin.  It’s growing more difficult to defend cinema in the face of articles such as “How the Death of Mid-Budget Cinema Left a Generation of Iconic Filmmakers MIA” (http://flavorwire.com/492985/how-the-death-of-mid-budget-cinema-left-a-generation-of-iconic-filmmakers-mia) and “The Birdcage: How Hollywood’s Toxic (and Worsening) Addiction to Franchises Changed Movies Forever in 2014” (http://grantland.com/features/2014-hollywood-blockbusters-franchises-box-office).  In the latter article, Mark Harris writes that “In 2014, franchises are not a big part of the movie business. They are not the biggest part of the movie business. They are the movie business. Period.”  It’s probably not a coincidence that the late Mike Nichols did not direct a movie for the last seven years of his life.  It’s growing more and more difficult for filmmakers to make non-franchise character driven films unless they are able to do so with a very small budget.  Younger filmmakers just starting out can do this, but for older, more established, filmmakers sometimes it’s just not worth it.  That’s why, as you have noted and the Flavorwire article describes, more of the established filmmakers are turning to TV.    

We differ in that I often enjoy franchise films.  As I noted before, the last Captain America film was a smart thriller and Guardians of the Galaxy was a fun ride.  I can’t wait for the next Bond movie and eagerly gobbled up the trailer for the new Star Wars film.  But it’s frightening to realize that Hollywood’s reliance on these films can crowd out everything else. 

I have recently been studying some of the greatest film years in the '70s.  The first Star Wars film debuted in 1977 as did the Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me, but so did Annie Hall and Looking for Mr. Goodbar.  Two years later brought the start of the Alien and Mad Max franchises, but also Being There, Norma Rae, and The China Syndrome.   Let’s look at the best of the '90s.  In 1997 Titanic, the biggest blockbuster of all, came out along with Men in Black.  But so did L.A. Confidential, Boogie Nights and Eve’s Bayou.  The Matrix franchise launched in 1999, but it was joined by American Beauty, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and The Insider.  At Hollywood’s best, there was room for all.  Are those days gone?

You described the studios’ response to the TV threat in the 1950s.  It’s eerie how similar the response is today.  Back then, films eagerly embraced 3-D technology.   Today, most blockbusters are done in 3-D.  In the 50s it was Cinemascope, today it’s IMAX.   Plenty of biblical films then, and this year we had Noah and Exodus: Gods and Kings.  The other major response comes from the theaters, which are increasingly offering plush accommodations, a wider variety of concessions, and the ability to pick your seat.  

Innovation flourishes more easily on TV, with its greater array of platforms, than it does on TV.  But, even there, we need to specify matters a bit.  There’s no doubting that cable networks, Netflix and Amazon offer much greater freedom then Hollywood studios.  However, on network TV, sports events dominate the ratings leaders.  Mindless reality shows still abound.  Networks have also tried to go back to their past, with live specials such as “The Sound of Music” and “Peter Pan.”

Of course most TV networks and Hollywood studios are owned by the same huge multinational corporations.  They can spread franchises, such as the Avengers and Star Wars over both TV and movies.   You and I both talk about movies vs. TV, but every day there is less difference between the two mediums. 

With all of that, I try to remain hopeful.  Maybe it’s my lifelong love of cinema, or maybe it’s just naiveté, but I can still find reasons to go to the movies.  While TV takes more chances than most movies do, I already cited the exciting, groundbreaking work of Richard Linklater and the Alejandro González Iñárritu this year.  Another example is Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity, which used 3-D not as a gimmick, but a method for a new kind of immersive storytelling.   Unfortunately, actresses “of a certain age” have always had problems getting good film roles.  But I’m encouraged that Meryl Streep, Helen Mirren, Julianne Moore, and Susan Sarandon still appear on the silver screen regularly.

In the end though, it’s up to us: The viewers.  Hollywood always follows the money.  If we only go to the big franchise films, studios will have every reason to continue down their current path.  If we want filmmakers to take chances, if we want thought-provoking films made for adults, then we need to support those films with our ticket-buying dollars.  So see Boyhood, Birdman, Selma, Wild and Foxcatcher and do not just wait for those films to come out on DVD or appear on TV.  If we do not support the films we say we want to see, then we can only blame ourselves if those films disappear from our theaters.      

Discussing Movies vs TV with Adam Spector Part I

My friend Adam Spector is the head of DC Film Society's Discussion Group Cinema Lounge that meets once a month at the Barnes and Noble by Metro Center in DC. He also keeps a column called Adam's Rib.

I recently had a cross-blogging project with Adam about the state of films verse TV in six parts. The first two parts of the post are listed here:

OK -- Adam, I've enjoyed discussing movies with you this past year but I have to also confess that while I love to discuss film as much as ever, I'm not really watching a lot of films. While I eventually managed to watch 8 of the 9 Oscar-nominated films by Oscar night this past year, I doubt I'm on pace to equal the 24 films I saw last year, as I have only seen 8 films this year [Ed. note: I managed to squeeze in 25 films by Oscar night including 4 of 8 nominees]. What's more: I really don't mind. I've seen most of the films I've wanted to see and there are only a handful of films that have caught my interest. Last time I checked the redbox, there seemed to be mostly sequels, blockbuster films (Guardians of the Galaxy, The Maze Runner) based on source material I'm unfamiliar with, uninspired comedies (Tammy, Jingle all the Way 2) and animated films.

What I'm pouring my efforts into instead is TV because let's face it: This is the Golden Age of TV and whether it's a procedural, a serialized drama, or a multi-layered comedy TV has so much to offer these days. And I'm not the only one who thinks so: Oscar-winners like Halle Berry (Extant), Kevin Spacey (House of Cards), Dustin Hoffman (Luck), Jon Voigt (Ray Donovan) Octavia Spencer (Red Band Society), Francis McDormand (Olive Kitteridge) and Jane Fonda (Netflix's upcoming series) as well as directors like Frank Darabont (Walking Dead), David Fincher (House of Cards), Steven Soderbergh (The Knick), Michael Apted (Masters of Sex) and Barry Sonnenfeld (Pushing Daisies) are all flocking to TV in droves. Conversely, some of TV's most iconic show runners a decade ago--J.J. Abrams, Joss Whedon, and Seth MacFarlane, for example-- are all wildly successful on the big screen.

As for the advantages of movies, I love the idea of leaving my home to support and experience the arts and those new seats are really comfortable but that's about it. My style of viewing has changed. 

In the old days, the only social experience of watching a film was talking about it as you leave the theater, but with TV you can have dialogue with people all around the world while you're watching something (through Twitter), right after the episodes (through week-to-week reviews) or between episodes of a longer arc (on message boards). There's no water cooler discussion like trying to figure out where the plot will take you on a show like "Homeland," "Lost" or "The Bridge."

I'd even argue that the actual form of TV is better. The latest program I started catching on TV is "Silicon Valley" which is the work of Mike Judge of "Office Space", "Idiocracy", and "Extract." His comedic films satirize the absurdities of the American professional sphere with an eye on the razor-thin differences between those in power and the underlings through elaborate plots in which each of these two classes tries to cheat the other. Imagine watching "Office Space" [spoilers ahead] and waiting a week to find out that Michael Bolton's plan to steal pennies off the company backfired or that Milton's frustration over his paycheck would result in the building being burned down. The viewer has time to guess and ruminate at each stage of the story's development.

Granted, TV didn't reach its potential until just recently when shows figured out how to master these long-arcing stories like "24"or "Lost" a decade ago and now there are dozens of shows I can point to in the past 7-8 years alone that I just can't get enough of narrative-wise. In the face of all that, why see a movie?

AS – You may be surprised that I agree with much of what you wrote.   Your insights about the way television has advanced, both in the narrative form and in the talent attached, are on target.  I’d say the start of this change goes all the way back to the 80s with shows such as “Hill Street Blues,” that started telling stories and developing characters over seasons, not just single episodes.  The show that moved television storytelling to another level was “The Sopranos.”  It took the “antihero’ concept from 60s and 70s film and used the time and space that television offered to really explore how this type of person thought and felt.  Everything from “Mad Men” to “Breaking Bad” to “House of Cards” owes “The Sopranos” a great debt.  Television has broken free of many of its historic shackles, such as being beholden to ratings and advertisers, and the idea that every dramatic situation had to be tied up neatly by the end of each episode.  With cable TV, also gone was much of the language, sex and violence censorship, thus providing much more freedom of content.

More recently, television has also shed the time constraint.  With Netflix, viewers of “Orange is the New Black,” “Arrested Development” or “House of Cards” no longer have to wait until next week to see what happens.  This allows for even more innovation in storytelling and character development.   It also gives the audience more control than they have ever had before.   

You noted the actors and directors that have worked in television.  Gone is the idea that television is somehow beneath film talent, that it would only serve as a last resort if a film career is floundering.  Martin Scorsese helped develop “Boardwalk Empire” and is now working with Mick Jagger on an HBO show about the ‘70s rock scene.    The same year that Matthew McConaughey won an Oscar he also starred on “True Detective” for HBO.  Fincher directed "Gone Girl" while still working on “House of Cards.”

Television’s recent success does not portend cinema’s death.  Film’s demise has always been greatly exaggerated.  I remember attending a seminar at the Kennedy Center in the late 90s when a panelist proudly proclaimed that film was dead.  Ever since television first became popular in the 50s, some have been ready to pour dirt on movies.  But movies are still here.

It’s taking nothing away from television to acknowledge that there is still exciting work on the silver screen.  Just look at Richard Linklater’s innovative "Boyhood."  In less than three hours you see a boy grow up.  That would be very difficult to do on television, if only because no network would want to pay development money for a show it wouldn’t see in 12 years.  Another example is "Birdman", where the entire film unfolds as a long jazz riff, with the camera seemingly gliding through a struggling theatrical production.             

Sure, much of what you see at the local multiplex are sequels or franchise films.  First, that doesn’t always mean these are poor quality.  The latest Captain America film took some chances with the story and the casting, and was a successful homage to 70s conspiracy thrillers.  Knock Guardians of the Galaxy all you want, but its irreverent take on superheroes was fun and refreshing. 

Like television, films offer a wide range in content and quality.  Judging movies by their derivative efforts would be like me judging television by its stale sitcoms and mindless “reality” shows.  Sure, if one would only select films based on the box office charts, it would be very uninspiring to say the least.  But if you look at the art house theaters, you can still find plenty of movies that are worth your time.  In the DC area we are very fortunate, with the Landmark theaters here, the Angelika in Fairfax, and the AFI Silver.  We should take advantage of these offerings.

Watching movies and TV shows at home is wonderful.  Much to my wife’s chagrin, I own more than 500 DVDs.  Between Netflix, my DVR and On Demand, I can and do enjoy many quality TV shows.  But there’s still nothing like sitting in a movie theater, having the light go down, and being totally immersed in a film.  No cell phones and no distractions.  Just you and the movie. 

Orrin, you and I have both noted the talent that has worked in TV.  But many of them, including Scorsese, Fincher, McConaughey and Spacey also work in film.  They haven’t focused on one at the expense of the other, and neither should we.