The Death Of Hollywood

A recent piece, The Inexplicable Suicide of Hollywood, inadvertently ties the disastrous underperformance of the two latest summer blockbusters together:

Since starting this article, Hollywood has experienced a summer blockbuster phenomenon with the success of two thrillers, Obsession, an indie produced by a YouTuber making over $230 million on a budget of $750,000 and Backrooms, a larger indie distributed by A24 making $118 million on a $10 million budget and directed by twenty-year-old. Audiences showed up to theaters for these two movies while shunning a $165 million Disney Star Wars movie released at the same time.

It looks like he submitted his piece before this past weekend's disappointment with Spielberg, which just reinforces his point.

To be fair, there really isn’t one single cause, but the ones you don’t hear are probative. You’ll never hear that the content just sucks; that we just haven’t been producing entertainment that’s widely enjoyed. And that we’re willing to let Hollywood die before re-focusing from politics and morals to art and commerce.

On rare occasions, you can get a glimpse at internal data. In a break from conformity, Disney made public that they were desperate to attract young men back to the brand. The announcement came as a shock and resulted in pushback from employees. This sheds light on how much they devalued the golden goose of Lucasfilm and Marvel. Most of the industry will remain in denial, but you can feel an inkling of understanding rising under bouts of lashing out in hatred of the very audience they rely on to survive.

During my time at film school, I was forced to pledge to use any opportunity I’d have working in the film industry to support and promote women. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Two decades in, it’s clear how much this sort of indoctrination has shaped the landscape. During the mid-2010s, the generation raised on this ideology hit critical mass.

. . . Laying low became a skill. The revolutionaries saw their power and control proliferate. Every major studio somehow became beholden to the whims of some obscure administrator at San Diego State University, and suddenly, no project would be greenlit unless it met certain quotas in front of and behind the camera. People with no experience dictated terms. This was “important” and the “right thing to do.” Men were purged for the sake of being men.

I'm actually remiinded of Tom Wolfe's argument in his 1975 The Painted Word:

Wolfe's thesis in The Painted Word was that by the 1970s, modern art had moved away from being a visual experience, and more often was an illustration of art critics' theories. Wolfe criticized avant-garde art, Andy Warhol, Willem de Kooning, and Jackson Pollock. The main target of Wolfe's book, however, was not so much the artists, as the critics. In particular, Wolfe criticized three prominent art critics whom he dubbed the kings of "Cultureburg": Clement Greenberg, Harold Rosenberg, and Leo Steinberg. Wolfe argued that these three men were dominating the world of art with their theories and that, unlike the world of literature in which anyone can buy a book, the art world was controlled by an insular circle of rich collectors, museums, and critics with outsized influence.

Let's move to a piece at Real Clear Politics by Roger L Simon. Once again, in my view, RCP is conventional wisdom, and Simon is the sort of elder statesman of conservatism that they like to platform. Here's his take on Disclosure Day:

[B]efore I get into details, let me say that I enjoyed the movie; at least I didn’t feel compelled to leave, as I do with so many these days. Mediocre Spielberg is better than almost everything else out there.

Contrast that with the YouTube reviewer in the clip embedded above, who cites tweet after tweet, "Possibly the worst Spielberg film yet. . . . This is one of the cringiest experiences I've ever had in a movie theater. . . . This is 'alien conspiracy movie' for normies. . . . Disclosure Day is genuinely one of the dumbest science fiction movies I've ever seen. . . . Word of mouth is burying this movie. . . . Felt like someone tried to imitate a Spielberg movie. . . . I mean, potentially one of the worst movies I've ever seen."

Well, Roger L Simon is a respectable conservative who's made a media career for himself as a novelist, playwright, screenwriter, director, and pundit as both a liberal and a conservative. He likely has too many friends in the film industry to step too far out of line. Spielberg is still a Great Man, apparently, so Simon gives us dimestore social analysis:

The Spielberg of the late 70s and early 80s was working in an optimistic America that was still relatively postwar. Sometimes accused of being shallow, he turned his attention to the darker moments of recent history with Schindler’s List, Munich, Saving Private Ryan, and an even darker fantasy of an alien invasion, an adaptation of H. G. Wells’s War of the Worlds. The latter contains giant extraterrestrials of a rather distant kind from the benign characters of his earlier films.

By then, we were in a post-9/11 America, and nothing was the same. The journey to Disclosure Day is not all that far. Conspiracies, real or imagined, are the order of the day. No one trusts anyone. Why shouldn’t we be housing extraterrestrials as if they were animals in a zoo? Why not make a movie about it?

A simpler explanation is that Spielberg made a career out of exploiting cinematic cliches, but cliches by their nature go out of date. The people who master and exploit them don't recognize it when they do. Judging from the remarkable number of YouTube reviews that suggest Disclosure Day is comically bad, it's not hard to think it's a symptom of Hollywood's complacency, something Simon's Oscar and detective novel awaard nominations may have blinded him from recognizing.