Nature of the Beast
Something I've been thinking about a bit lately as I burn through Netflix's collection of spaghetti westerns and Edo pieces is what it means to make an American movie.
Is there such a thing as an American movie in the first place?
Sure, a movie can be produced by an American company. Distributed by an American studio. Directed by an American, have a thoroughly American cast, an American-written script, and so forth. At that point, you could disembowel the movie and it would bleed red, white, and blue all over the cutting room floor making this point moot. Me, 1. Me, 0.
In all seriousness, though! I have a point! Eventually. I got this idea watching Sergio Leone movies (Read: FUCKING BADASS CELLULOID EXPERIENCES OF TRUE GRIT AND PROPER APPLICATION OF BULLETS FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT AND PLEASURE). Truth be told, I've been thinking this over ever since I had David Welky's American Film History class in 2006 (Do you know what thinking the same idea over and over again for three years will do to you?!). He brought up the James Bond series as an example of a foreign movie that could easily be classified as American, because of MGM's involvement and the distinctly American spin put on the series.
So, what makes an American movie? Is it a theme? Some ephemeral idea or feeling that comes out and screams "'MERIKAH!" in your face? You could easily make this point. Sergio Leone is a perfect example. You can argue with ease that his movies were made for American audiences, somewhere between a lecture on crass materialism and idols gone wrong and unadulterated adoration for what is the most genuinely American film genre. Shot in Spain, filled with foreigners, directed and scored by Italians, it was undeniably aimed to American audiences and markets. It's no secret that Sergio Leone's aspiration was to break into the American markets, and with the cheap budgets and sets he (initially) offered to Hollywood, they were more than happy to oblige. The problem with this argument is one of markets: The United States is still one of the largest, most influential film markets in the world. It's a natural gravitation for most directors to try and break into the diverse homeworld of cinema. Was Leone American because of aesthetic and ideology, or because of the almighty power of a fistful of dollars?
I am so proud of myself for that lame pun. Let me have my moment, please.
On the other end of the spectrum are those movies made for Americans, by Americans, and catch on around the world. These films are so grandiose, so amazing, so universal that the world can't help but stop and take account of what we have made. Casablanca is a fine example. Some scholars have gone so far as to claim that Casablanca might be a near-universal movie due to the high level of stereotypes in the film, lowering most characters to a lowest common denominator that is understood worldwide. Basically, everyone understands that Renault is the way he is because he is French, or, as Groundskeeper Willie would put it, a "cheese-eating, surrender monkey." We know the Nazis are bad because, well, they're bad. Indiana Jones doesn't fight good guys, for Chrissake. And then there's Rick. Cynical, drunk, and detached to the point of nonchalance in the face of impending tyranny and destruction, he's a philosophy major's ideal lifestyle. Despite this, he comes around and faces the fact that he must stand up to the coming storm. He sacrifices, he loves, he makes hard choices to do the undeniably right thing. In short, Rick validates experiences that all of us must face at some point in time. So, the point is, can a movie that is this universally known and recognized be truly claimed as our own, or is it something that belongs to humanity as a whole?
On the otherside, can a movie made by an entirely alien cast and crew be entirely American? I'm sure it can. I've brought up the James Bond series, made by EON, starring British actors, with British directors. At this point, I'm trying to rack my brain for more examples. Maybe Sukiyaki Western Django, a Japanese film through-and-through, but delivered in English and set in the American west. If anyone has any suggestions for this one, please tell me.
So, when it comes down to it, what makes a film American? Intended audience? Message? Actors? Director? Studio? Market?
Hell if I know. I just ramble here and hope someone can point me in the right direction.
Is there such a thing as an American movie in the first place?
Sure, a movie can be produced by an American company. Distributed by an American studio. Directed by an American, have a thoroughly American cast, an American-written script, and so forth. At that point, you could disembowel the movie and it would bleed red, white, and blue all over the cutting room floor making this point moot. Me, 1. Me, 0.
In all seriousness, though! I have a point! Eventually. I got this idea watching Sergio Leone movies (Read: FUCKING BADASS CELLULOID EXPERIENCES OF TRUE GRIT AND PROPER APPLICATION OF BULLETS FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT AND PLEASURE). Truth be told, I've been thinking this over ever since I had David Welky's American Film History class in 2006 (Do you know what thinking the same idea over and over again for three years will do to you?!). He brought up the James Bond series as an example of a foreign movie that could easily be classified as American, because of MGM's involvement and the distinctly American spin put on the series.
So, what makes an American movie? Is it a theme? Some ephemeral idea or feeling that comes out and screams "'MERIKAH!" in your face? You could easily make this point. Sergio Leone is a perfect example. You can argue with ease that his movies were made for American audiences, somewhere between a lecture on crass materialism and idols gone wrong and unadulterated adoration for what is the most genuinely American film genre. Shot in Spain, filled with foreigners, directed and scored by Italians, it was undeniably aimed to American audiences and markets. It's no secret that Sergio Leone's aspiration was to break into the American markets, and with the cheap budgets and sets he (initially) offered to Hollywood, they were more than happy to oblige. The problem with this argument is one of markets: The United States is still one of the largest, most influential film markets in the world. It's a natural gravitation for most directors to try and break into the diverse homeworld of cinema. Was Leone American because of aesthetic and ideology, or because of the almighty power of a fistful of dollars?
I am so proud of myself for that lame pun. Let me have my moment, please.
On the other end of the spectrum are those movies made for Americans, by Americans, and catch on around the world. These films are so grandiose, so amazing, so universal that the world can't help but stop and take account of what we have made. Casablanca is a fine example. Some scholars have gone so far as to claim that Casablanca might be a near-universal movie due to the high level of stereotypes in the film, lowering most characters to a lowest common denominator that is understood worldwide. Basically, everyone understands that Renault is the way he is because he is French, or, as Groundskeeper Willie would put it, a "cheese-eating, surrender monkey." We know the Nazis are bad because, well, they're bad. Indiana Jones doesn't fight good guys, for Chrissake. And then there's Rick. Cynical, drunk, and detached to the point of nonchalance in the face of impending tyranny and destruction, he's a philosophy major's ideal lifestyle. Despite this, he comes around and faces the fact that he must stand up to the coming storm. He sacrifices, he loves, he makes hard choices to do the undeniably right thing. In short, Rick validates experiences that all of us must face at some point in time. So, the point is, can a movie that is this universally known and recognized be truly claimed as our own, or is it something that belongs to humanity as a whole?
On the otherside, can a movie made by an entirely alien cast and crew be entirely American? I'm sure it can. I've brought up the James Bond series, made by EON, starring British actors, with British directors. At this point, I'm trying to rack my brain for more examples. Maybe Sukiyaki Western Django, a Japanese film through-and-through, but delivered in English and set in the American west. If anyone has any suggestions for this one, please tell me.
So, when it comes down to it, what makes a film American? Intended audience? Message? Actors? Director? Studio? Market?
Hell if I know. I just ramble here and hope someone can point me in the right direction.
posted by .venganza. at
8:49 PM
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