Yes, Hollywood re-marketed your dragon

Why do studios keep making new versions (to various degrees) of classic movies?

Honestly, folks, I did not expect — when I packed the car to drive to Kansas and Colorado — for my recent “What is Job 1, when you run a pop super-franchise?” post to hijack the Rational Sheep project (at least temporarily).

Well, the Mattinglys made it all the way home to the Blue Ridge Mountains. While social-media and email scrolling during one stop along the way, I ran into yet another variation on the crucial “Job 1” questions featured in that earlier post.

I’ll offer a flashback in a moment. But, first, let me clearly state the puzzler that I have heard people ask over and over during recent decades. It goes something like this: Why does Hollywood keep producing so many sequels, prequels, reboots, solo-character origin stories and near photocopies of classic (or even marginally successful) movies?

What started out as an obsession with sequels and trilogies — after the success of “Star Wars” and the amazing “The Godfather Part II” — has clearly turned into a monster that has taken control of multiplexes and digital streaming platforms. Obviously, there are high-paid executives (or maybe studios are using advanced AI programs) assigned to figuring out how to push the Marvel Cinematic Universe and its competitors into future decades.

To quote a worried king in part II of what I consider a valid trilogy, “How did it come to this?”

Over the years, I have heard some theories:

* Copies are easier to make.

* Studio executives assume that if millions of people bought tickets to see one movie, many or most of them will do that again for the sequel (even if it’s a cheaper, tackier version of the earlier classic). Thus, “Jaws: The Revenge.”

* Faced with investing millions of dollars to make movies based on inventive new scripts, why not spend three or four times that much money to (a) squeeze one more flick out of an aging superstar, a project that (b) may even — fingers crossed — create the “next generation” character to continue the franchise? How did that work with “Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny”?

* Superstar actors love to cash bigger and bigger checks to star in sequels (or sort-of sequels). Studio executives need big names on posters to sell tickets, etc.

* Here is a theory that I think about, a lot. Decades ago, one of my professors said something like this (long before superhero movies dominated popular culture): Movies are the “books” of consumers that grew up watching television.

Think of it this way: Once upon a time, people read books and then, maybe on the weekend, went to theaters to see entertaining, stand-alone movies (some of which were based on books). Yes, there were B-movies in long, lightweight serials that resembled comic books (think Flash Gordon). But those flicks didn’t dominate the financial structures of major studios.

Eventually, television became the norm in mainstream popular-culture. Nevertheless, when people went to real theaters, they expected to see movies that made them think Big Thoughts or feel Big Feelings or, at the very least, were of a shockingly higher quality than what they saw on television.

Movies were — at least every now and then — supposed to mean something. You might even call them art.

Then came cable TV. Then came streaming platforms. Looking at contemporary Hollywood, that professor would probably say that consumers are watching wide-screen television shows that cost many, many millions of dollars. Wait: Didn’t Martin Scorsese say something like that several years ago?

* This is my own theory. In an age in which millions of consumers in Red America are at war with the powers that be in Blue America (and, thus, Hollywood), it’s understandable that studio executives think this: If millions of average Americans turned out to see this movie that made a billion bucks (think “The Lion King”) why not use snazzy new technology and make that same movie all over again (think “The Lion King” re-make).

* One more theory: Some of the activists that run major studios actually enjoy doing sequels and remakes that allow them to “reform” and reshape the images and themes of classic movies that they have decided are flawed, out of date or even “dangerous” to young minds in modern audiences.

In other words, let’s rewrite “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” into something like “Snow White,” the politico, liberator and labor leader. Or even, all together now, someone is hired to turn Star Wars into “The power of one, the power of two, the power of MANY.”

Thus, we now live in a world in which the fans of many classic movies, and franchises, head to theaters (or click into streaming platforms) with their fingers crossed, hoping that they are not going to see what they consider heretical takes on stories that they love.

This brings us back to my “Job 1” questions about the decisions that Hollywood leaders are making these days, while managing the entertainment franchises that have long dominated our shared popular culture. Here we go again:

I’m talking about money, as well as matters of quality or even “art” of some kind. … Now, the big questions:

Is Job 1 to please the core fans that made your product a profitable franchise in the first place? Is it to be faithful to the source material for the franchise, whether we’re talking about classic books, comics, foundation films or whatever? Should managers be faithful to the “canon” of a franchise, to its core principles and worldview? …

Or is Job 1 finding a way to EXPAND the franchise into a new generation, reaching the “modern audiences” that allegedly represent the future? After all, the folks in the 18-40 demographic of a decade or more ago are not the anxious young ticket buyers of today.

This leads to the Substack note that I saw earlier this week from a film critic, and Catholic deacon, I have appreciated for several decades. Steven D. Greydanus noted:

The strong performance of beat-for-beat remakes of Lilo & Stitch and How to Train Your Dragon is the most depressing trend in an industry without a lot of non-depressing trends.

Greydanus used a very interesting word there — “depressing.”

Amen, brother.

I saw the original “How to Train Your Dragon” on a big screen and thought it was tremendous. It was one of the only times that I paid extra for a 3D ticket and didn’t regret that choice.

Will I be headed to a theater to see the shot-for-shot live-action remake? No, I will not. And I wasn’t all that happy about some of the subtle “woke” plot points in the original sequels, either.

That’s a strange term, isn’t it? I mean, “original sequels.” If the studio lords decide to do live-action remakes of “How to Train Your Dragon 2” and “How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World,” what are we going to call them? Would they be the “live-action sequels to the original sequels” or something like that?

Yes, let’s ask: What is going on here?

In a basically positive review of the “How to Train Your Dragon” remake, posted at the 100 Movies Every Catholic Should See website, critics Abigail Greca noted:

The script in both films are almost exactly the same. As I watched the opening sequence of the film, which is narrated by Hiccup, I watched apprehensively for differences… and was confused by the lack of any noticeable differences. The dialogue was almost word-for-word the same as the original. The shots were almost the exact same as the original. The only significant difference in the plot was that Berk was racially diverse. Congratulations. Instead of a random Viking village, Berk was now an island settled by the best dragon slayers from various parts of the world. …

At the end of the day, I’m just not sure why this movie exists. Other than the stunning visual effects, nothing of value has been added to the movie. Between the surge of live action remakes and a general decline in the quality of animated films, I am concerned that appreciation of animation as an art form is getting lost in audiences today. It’s true that nothing can replace a human person interacting with another human person, but that does not mean that animation cannot also communicate human stories well. Further, most of the recent remakes have mediocre acting at best and heavy use of cheap CGI. While I believe that ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ was executed better than some, I would encourage people to save money on the ticket and popcorn and watch the animated film. You won’t really miss much.

Amen, sister.

Who knows? People may even want to read the books, while listening to the amazing original soundtrack?

The bottom line: Why are Hollywood leaders making these photocopy movies over and over?

By the way, don’t miss the scrolling satirical potshot at these trends by the ageless Mel Brooks (it’s at the top of this post), even as he plugs his own sequel movie to his less-than-classic spoof of the original Star Wars franchise. How meta is that?