I hate to admit it, but I want to see "Black Snake Moan." There, I said it.
See, it's not the case that I would really get any sensual enjoyment out of Christina Ricci in a bondage situation, nor do I actually think that this movie is going to be the quality "Southern gothic" that some are touting it to be.
Honestly, when I go into the theater and plop down my hard-earned cash that I should be saving for going abroad (or grad school or buying a house or anything that isn't "Black Snake Moan"), I am seriously hoping to get a horrendous steaming piece of crap.
I'm paying cash for stilted dialogue, forced over-acting and a ludicrous plot that one can only hope has the deus ex machina to end all deus ex machinas. In fact, I would be seriously disappointed if there was any redeeming part of the movie. Screw that, I would be disappointed even if "Black Snake Moan" ended up being the new "Citizen Kane" (1941) and completely revolutionized cinema.
The thing is, I do not think I would be alone in that sentiment as I entered the theater. In fact, I'm pretty sure that most of my fellow patrons would be in agreement. But I'm fairly certain that it is not the simple case that I (along with my fellow viewers) am leagues upon leagues smarter than the Hollywood executives.
I know the stupidity of Hollywood is a popular stereotype and one that sometimes does have backing, but I refuse to accept that complete dunces can have that much power and money (and persist in holding onto it). I look at the advertising for "Black Snake Moan," the trailer, the poster, the taglines, and I begin to wonder if I am playing right into the hands of the advertisers, the producers and other head honchos.
After this idea struck me, I started noticing a trend going on currently. Bad is good. Bad sells. Bad turns eyes and gets our attention where good and mediocre just can't anymore. "Black Snake Moan" isn't the only case of this.
Last summer, it seemed like every college student was waiting for Aug. 18 when we would finally see who would win in the ultimate showdown of Samuel L. Jackson vs. a plane full of snakes. Yet another movie with Jackson, a snake title and some clever marketing. I've heard rumors that the original blog buzz was actually started by people hired by New Line Cinema. I wouldn't be surprised.
As for other examples, this April we get to look forward to Grindhouse, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's new exploitation film that touts (among gratuitous amounts of explosions, sex and blood) a girl with a machine gun for a leg. This film does not even try for a second to even give you any illusion of classiness. It does not expect you to come in thinking that you're going to laugh at unintentional mistakes. It brags about the extent to which it'll be trashy and vulgar and ludicrous, and it wants you to love every minute of it.
And, of course, there's television. Think about "Aqua Teen Hunger Force." While amusing and very popular, one would be hard-pressed to actually argue that it was high quality in any traditional sense of the word. At the same time, if Adult Swim were to come out with an episode that had a tight story and realistic animation, we would all be a bit disappointed, wouldn't we? I mean, don't we tune into "Aqua Teen" week after week to get that "what the hell?" reaction?
So, why this trend? Why does it seem like the entertainment industry is focusing more on sucking than not sucking nowadays?
Simple: it's easier and, ironically, at times even better than trying to be good. One looks at movies today and sees a never-ending parade of sequels, remakes, franchises and adaptations.
In fact, one of my friends was talking to me a few weeks ago and said that when praising or criticizing a movie, he does not even care to address writing, since by this point it is a completely lost cause. Perhaps many believe that the solution to that problem is to no longer even try to look for quality. Our new entertainment can come from the other extreme.
It's a bit of a dark view, isn't it? Have all chances for the next great American movie gone down the tubes and left us only with an abundance of camp? Okay, probably not.
To be fair, taking material from other sources has always been in fashion. Great movies like "Casablanca" (1942) and "The Godfather" (1972) were originally plays and books. Even Shakespeare built a career on recycling plots. But I do believe that we, in our postmodern, jaded sensibilities, will see a spike (perhaps it'll last a year, perhaps it'll go on for decades) in movies that try at not trying, that succeed at failing.
After all, they play to our egos if nothing else. For a brief two hours, they make us feel like we're smarter than all of the people in Hollywood who produced this tripe. We laugh at their incompetence. And really, who doesn't like to feel smart?
