Pacific Rim, Tarantino and Why We Need The B Movie
"In its post–Golden Age usage, there is ambiguity on both sides of the definition: on the one hand, many B movies display a high degree of craft and aesthetic ingenuity; on the other, the primary interest of many inexpensive exploitation films is prurient. In some cases, both may be true."
So as you can tell, I recently saw Pacific Rim as I'm writing an entire damned article on the matter and how it inspires the kid in me to become excited with the magnificent, spectacle of pure action and entertainment engrossed in the world of fantasy on screen; a child-like excitement which dates all the way back to the origin of "the B movie," how it's making a great comeback (or how it's really never left) and why we need more movies like these.
We'll get to Del Toro's latest "Robots vs. Monsters" grandeur in a moment but I'm first going to pave the way of the B road with masters of the craft and projects that have attempted, succeeded and failed to capture the essence of what makes a B movie an A movie.
"Most B movies represent a particular genre—the Western was a Golden Age B movie staple, while low-budget science-fiction and horror films became more popular in the 1950s."
Start with Tarantino for example; one of the most influential filmmakers of this generation. He's the only filmmaker I can think of who can assign himself any B movie and hand it back to his audience an A+ and the man's been pulling it off since his first picture. His earlier works like Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction represent the world of pulpy crime thrillers (pulp-pun possibly intended) which are used to exploit characters and colorfully profane dialogue in a dark, crumbling post-modern world of explicit themes heavily involving violence, drugs, brutality, etc. all while being grounded in some form of reality.
Tarantino's dialogue pieces are trinkets of action through words. He broke the mold by exploiting his characters through mere conversation, sometimes going on for nearly ten minutes at a time, much of that time the conversation not only being totally irrelevant to the film's plot points, but much of the conversations are flat-out absurd and often times hilarious yet they are always insightful. It's part of what makes Tarantino a scribe in a sea of screenwriters. He's a storyteller and by exploring his characters through their use of storytelling he has become a trademark of representing caricatures of real people through extensive dialogue and this technique has been numerously imitated over years past from filmmakers everywhere.
Now what does that have to do with the art of the B movie? The fact remains that even Quentin's most serious pictures all pull you from some sense of reality through the unique dialogue for example. And maybe I'm giving the man a little too much credit here, but what makes his films and his ultimate Tarantiniverse so brilliant is that films like Dogs and Fiction are mere exaggerations of people in situations that exist in a form of reality, where films like Kill Bill and the Grindhouse pictures are clear homages to the beloved B movie with way over the top, stylized graphic violence being exploited in an almost cartoonish, comic fashion, dating back to the 70's or even further back, while Tarantino himself has said that in his perfect world, characters like Vincent Vega would take Mia Wallace to the movies to go see something like Death Proof or Kill Bill, all the more supporting the idea of having Mia Wallace taking part of failed TV pilot, Fox Force Five being a precursor to the characters in Kill Bill, starring none other than Uma Thurman, which is again brilliant.
Farfetched comparison? See for yourself:
http://imgur.com/gallery/HbmJS
Needless to say, with his own stamp of exploiting the B genre having such an influence over his last two period pieces, Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained (arguably the man's most well crafted pictures) Quentin Tarantino has literally mastered the art of perfecting a B movie, Django being the greatest example of having a powerful anti hero fulfilling the requirements of having exploited over the top violence, political/racial themes as both undertones and major tools to represent the black and white nature of good vs. evil (please... no black and white puns intended) through explicit, colorful imagery all in top craft making it subsequently a crafty enough film to nab plentiful Oscar noms. Now with B movies often being ignored by critics, I'd say Tarantino has accomplished a feat that's one of a kind.
Finally moving on from Tarantino and his exploitation of the 70's we move a little closer to present day with what began to bud in the 80's, grew into something in the 2000's and is being resurrected as we speak ultimately dating back to the paranoia phenomenon of the 1950's. Let's start with the 80's.
In the 1980's Hasbro put out a little line of toys called Transformers and G.I. Joe. These toys eventually turned toons served no other purpose than to be really cool action spectacles for little boys with wild imaginations who wanted to play with toys. Yes, these cartoon heroes served a purpose to defend America. G.I. Joe was literally dubbed "The American Hero." To say that G.I. Joe or especially Transformers serve any legitimate purpose in exploiting themes of American paranoia during a time of war, terrorism or any political activism is a bit of a stretch. Sure, Cobra Commander and Megatron, leader of the Decepticons do represent literal terrorism in a sense of the word but one wouldn't think to possibly connect these themes with that of the nature of a 1950's monster movie. That is until 2007 when Michael Bay decided to use robots for what they do best: fight and explode.
Now, to give Michael Bay credit for exploiting the nature of the influential Japanese B movies of the 50's is just plain ridiculous. What people do slam Bay a little unfairly for is that they talk about the Transformers movies like they're supposed to actual give us anything of value outside of pure adrenaline-filled entertainment. The Transformers movies served the exact purpose the franchise had been doing since its conception. What did we, who as kids played with fighting robot action figures, really come to expect from a live-action adaptation of a series of literal toys? We wanted one thing: to see Optimus Prime tear through some metal and to see some robots rip each other's heads off. Because let's be honest, folks. That's the only reason anybody chose to boost any Transformers Box Office number and no, it's not based on Megan Fox alone. Anybody who claimed they were "only" gonna pay full admission for a nearly three hour movie for PG-13 Maxim cleavage was a moron. Am I complaining about the use of super models? No. Sure, it only adds to the entertainment. But too much excess like stale jokes, pure toilet humor, too much comic "relief" whether it be from Shia Labouf's impossible parents or questionably racist robots makes Transformers as a franchise extremely tiresome. Does it take away from the pure, ungodly robot violence and massive chaos with exceptional special effects? Hell no. What they did give us was giant robots destroying one another whether it be in L.A. or in Egypt even if the CGI battles lasted about 45 minutes too long.
All this to say, there were hints and missed opportunities for Transformers to be a perfect B movie. While I'm clearly an unashamed fan of the action even I can admit the movies had droll, lagging moments, particularly Revenge of the Fallen's dwelling on the goofy characters, unnecessary set pieces, plot holes and deja vu of the menace that is Megatron. And while Bay had three opportunities to make Transformers memorable (while I enjoyed the third and almost can't believe there's going to be a fourth, it was really only the first that did it for me), it was filled with a little too much sentimentality, tasteless jokes and a serious face that just couldn't be pulled off for this to be a B movie to remember.
While digging back to the 80's roots, more in vain of G.I. Joe (and we're not even going to open discussion about those live-action movies) but more so in vain of 80's action heroes, we were treated to The Expendables; A little stepping stone here before we move on to Pacific Rim. Now, what The Expendables does well is it pays homage to the gun-toting days of its own action heroes like Stallone in Rambo, Willis in Die Hard, Schwarzenegger in Predator; actors in movies of a forgotten era. Part of what kept the 80's alive were its R rated violent action movies with heroes and anti-heroes who always somehow stayed near-invincible. What the first Expendables does well is exploit that action we remember growing up with even though it almost loses its footing with its romances, sub-serious plots one moment while tackling the cliche's of its own characters the next and what the sequel does well is it threw what didn't work with the first movie out the window but embraced everything that did work. Its 80's action heroes nearly doubled with Van Damme as the villain and a brilliant cameo by Chuck Norris as one of the heroes. It gave balls to the wall action a new name with new set pieces, new locations to storm and even better, it gave its characters funny dialogue that not only nods back to their golden days but it plays off puns and jokes from each other's previous movies to create the best kind of comic relief.
For the bigger the fan of the genre, the more you ultimately take away from it. And that's where Del Toro comes in.
You see, I in particular didn't love Hellboy at first. In fact, I thought it was God-awful. Of course in the early 2000's my ignorant mind was then only wrapped around that of the X-Men and Spider-Man revamps for my generation when it came to the comic book genre. While I was willing to expand my mind, I came to the conclusion that I was a little too close-minded with Del Toro's vision because let's be honest....
What I didn't know then and what I'm much more educated in now is Del Toro's super darkly ironic and often comedic sense of what makes a comic... Well, comic. Coming to understand the genres of parodies, homages, exploitation and black humor, I have a much more grounded intelligence of why these projects create cults and why Hellboy is actually as good as people make it out to be. Ron Pearlman nails the role and the movie is something that totally and unconditionally dedicates itself to the genre. It's much more in line with Blade, though obviously more self releasing in its cartoonish violence than any part of the Blade trilogy, rather than that of X-Men or Spider-Man which both realized the comic element in the ridiculousness but also did a damn good job at giving legitimate character development in a dark, post-9/11 world that called for those characters. Del Toro's characters, though in a similar light as the mutants, more reflect that dark world to which we need a little more rebellious cynicism in times of need. And it is only now I'm not only beginning to truly understand that, but am coming to fully appreciate the craftsmanship in the irony.
I mean, it was only last year I watched the Evil Dead trilogy for my first time and with each passing moment and with each sequel I began to understand what makes these movies somewhat comical, some audiences dubbing the films literally under the "comedy" genre. It's about not being close minded but instead maybe it's about finding a dark spot on your funny bone. Because once you can accept that a filmmaker completely understands the genre they're either parodying or paying homage to and they pull off their projects in the right way, it not only gives us respect to the pages of a forgotten era but it creates a new page all in itself. It's why people still watch the old Godzilla movies over and over again. It's why people love Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Whether it's something made in 1953 or 2013, it all dates back to pure, mindless yet obviously smart entertainment. It's letting go of the drama for a moment and receiving that adrenaline you felt as a kid who played with toys.
Which brings me to Del Toro's latest sleeper hit, Pacific Rim. Can one really call it a sleeper hit? If anything it's bound to just create another cult following as it's even more so likely to divide audiences with its "Giant robots vs. Giant monsters" plot. The sad part is, people will overlook this for the ridiculousness of the premise alone but if anyone actually gave it a shot, they would see that while it's far from flawless, it's everything Godzilla '98, Transformers, Real Steel and Battleship should have been. Is it the best movie of the year? Far from it. Best movie of the Summer? Not in my book. But throwing logic out the window while still being brilliant, it's so well crafted, filled with a sheer, ungodly level of entertainment from start to finish, with just the right amounts of comedy, the full attention and respect to Japanese monster movies, breath-taking special effects and the pure, gigantic spectacle to absolute monster-robot violence, chaos and destruction, good God it's only bound to make the 12 year-old boy inside us scream with a feeling of adrenaline and excitement for no actual legitimate reason.
This isn't even a review of Pacific Rim, nor is it even a full-blown recommendation. This is me picking apart the brains of the B movie as I am thankful for it and never, ever want to see it die. As I get older and only come to understand the genre more, the harder I fall for film, entertainment and what it takes to blow your audience away. It's not film, ladies and gentlemen. It's entertainment. It's why I want to be a filmmaker and why I continue to enjoy my movies with each passing moment.
Thank you all. May the Lord be with you.
Finally moving on from Tarantino and his exploitation of the 70's we move a little closer to present day with what began to bud in the 80's, grew into something in the 2000's and is being resurrected as we speak ultimately dating back to the paranoia phenomenon of the 1950's. Let's start with the 80's.
In the 1980's Hasbro put out a little line of toys called Transformers and G.I. Joe. These toys eventually turned toons served no other purpose than to be really cool action spectacles for little boys with wild imaginations who wanted to play with toys. Yes, these cartoon heroes served a purpose to defend America. G.I. Joe was literally dubbed "The American Hero." To say that G.I. Joe or especially Transformers serve any legitimate purpose in exploiting themes of American paranoia during a time of war, terrorism or any political activism is a bit of a stretch. Sure, Cobra Commander and Megatron, leader of the Decepticons do represent literal terrorism in a sense of the word but one wouldn't think to possibly connect these themes with that of the nature of a 1950's monster movie. That is until 2007 when Michael Bay decided to use robots for what they do best: fight and explode.
Now, to give Michael Bay credit for exploiting the nature of the influential Japanese B movies of the 50's is just plain ridiculous. What people do slam Bay a little unfairly for is that they talk about the Transformers movies like they're supposed to actual give us anything of value outside of pure adrenaline-filled entertainment. The Transformers movies served the exact purpose the franchise had been doing since its conception. What did we, who as kids played with fighting robot action figures, really come to expect from a live-action adaptation of a series of literal toys? We wanted one thing: to see Optimus Prime tear through some metal and to see some robots rip each other's heads off. Because let's be honest, folks. That's the only reason anybody chose to boost any Transformers Box Office number and no, it's not based on Megan Fox alone. Anybody who claimed they were "only" gonna pay full admission for a nearly three hour movie for PG-13 Maxim cleavage was a moron. Am I complaining about the use of super models? No. Sure, it only adds to the entertainment. But too much excess like stale jokes, pure toilet humor, too much comic "relief" whether it be from Shia Labouf's impossible parents or questionably racist robots makes Transformers as a franchise extremely tiresome. Does it take away from the pure, ungodly robot violence and massive chaos with exceptional special effects? Hell no. What they did give us was giant robots destroying one another whether it be in L.A. or in Egypt even if the CGI battles lasted about 45 minutes too long.
All this to say, there were hints and missed opportunities for Transformers to be a perfect B movie. While I'm clearly an unashamed fan of the action even I can admit the movies had droll, lagging moments, particularly Revenge of the Fallen's dwelling on the goofy characters, unnecessary set pieces, plot holes and deja vu of the menace that is Megatron. And while Bay had three opportunities to make Transformers memorable (while I enjoyed the third and almost can't believe there's going to be a fourth, it was really only the first that did it for me), it was filled with a little too much sentimentality, tasteless jokes and a serious face that just couldn't be pulled off for this to be a B movie to remember.
While digging back to the 80's roots, more in vain of G.I. Joe (and we're not even going to open discussion about those live-action movies) but more so in vain of 80's action heroes, we were treated to The Expendables; A little stepping stone here before we move on to Pacific Rim. Now, what The Expendables does well is it pays homage to the gun-toting days of its own action heroes like Stallone in Rambo, Willis in Die Hard, Schwarzenegger in Predator; actors in movies of a forgotten era. Part of what kept the 80's alive were its R rated violent action movies with heroes and anti-heroes who always somehow stayed near-invincible. What the first Expendables does well is exploit that action we remember growing up with even though it almost loses its footing with its romances, sub-serious plots one moment while tackling the cliche's of its own characters the next and what the sequel does well is it threw what didn't work with the first movie out the window but embraced everything that did work. Its 80's action heroes nearly doubled with Van Damme as the villain and a brilliant cameo by Chuck Norris as one of the heroes. It gave balls to the wall action a new name with new set pieces, new locations to storm and even better, it gave its characters funny dialogue that not only nods back to their golden days but it plays off puns and jokes from each other's previous movies to create the best kind of comic relief.
Ah, yes. Get to the chopper.
For the bigger the fan of the genre, the more you ultimately take away from it. And that's where Del Toro comes in.
You see, I in particular didn't love Hellboy at first. In fact, I thought it was God-awful. Of course in the early 2000's my ignorant mind was then only wrapped around that of the X-Men and Spider-Man revamps for my generation when it came to the comic book genre. While I was willing to expand my mind, I came to the conclusion that I was a little too close-minded with Del Toro's vision because let's be honest....
It appears to be damn near ridiculous.
What I didn't know then and what I'm much more educated in now is Del Toro's super darkly ironic and often comedic sense of what makes a comic... Well, comic. Coming to understand the genres of parodies, homages, exploitation and black humor, I have a much more grounded intelligence of why these projects create cults and why Hellboy is actually as good as people make it out to be. Ron Pearlman nails the role and the movie is something that totally and unconditionally dedicates itself to the genre. It's much more in line with Blade, though obviously more self releasing in its cartoonish violence than any part of the Blade trilogy, rather than that of X-Men or Spider-Man which both realized the comic element in the ridiculousness but also did a damn good job at giving legitimate character development in a dark, post-9/11 world that called for those characters. Del Toro's characters, though in a similar light as the mutants, more reflect that dark world to which we need a little more rebellious cynicism in times of need. And it is only now I'm not only beginning to truly understand that, but am coming to fully appreciate the craftsmanship in the irony.
I mean, it was only last year I watched the Evil Dead trilogy for my first time and with each passing moment and with each sequel I began to understand what makes these movies somewhat comical, some audiences dubbing the films literally under the "comedy" genre. It's about not being close minded but instead maybe it's about finding a dark spot on your funny bone. Because once you can accept that a filmmaker completely understands the genre they're either parodying or paying homage to and they pull off their projects in the right way, it not only gives us respect to the pages of a forgotten era but it creates a new page all in itself. It's why people still watch the old Godzilla movies over and over again. It's why people love Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Whether it's something made in 1953 or 2013, it all dates back to pure, mindless yet obviously smart entertainment. It's letting go of the drama for a moment and receiving that adrenaline you felt as a kid who played with toys.
Which brings me to Del Toro's latest sleeper hit, Pacific Rim. Can one really call it a sleeper hit? If anything it's bound to just create another cult following as it's even more so likely to divide audiences with its "Giant robots vs. Giant monsters" plot. The sad part is, people will overlook this for the ridiculousness of the premise alone but if anyone actually gave it a shot, they would see that while it's far from flawless, it's everything Godzilla '98, Transformers, Real Steel and Battleship should have been. Is it the best movie of the year? Far from it. Best movie of the Summer? Not in my book. But throwing logic out the window while still being brilliant, it's so well crafted, filled with a sheer, ungodly level of entertainment from start to finish, with just the right amounts of comedy, the full attention and respect to Japanese monster movies, breath-taking special effects and the pure, gigantic spectacle to absolute monster-robot violence, chaos and destruction, good God it's only bound to make the 12 year-old boy inside us scream with a feeling of adrenaline and excitement for no actual legitimate reason.
And that feeling is f**king priceless.
This isn't even a review of Pacific Rim, nor is it even a full-blown recommendation. This is me picking apart the brains of the B movie as I am thankful for it and never, ever want to see it die. As I get older and only come to understand the genre more, the harder I fall for film, entertainment and what it takes to blow your audience away. It's not film, ladies and gentlemen. It's entertainment. It's why I want to be a filmmaker and why I continue to enjoy my movies with each passing moment.
Thank you all. May the Lord be with you.
