Should it be any other way? As entertaining as many movies are I find them to be less and less rewarding in terms of genuine satisfaction. Sure, adrenaline-based satisfaction is aplenty, what with the Michael Bayesque explosions and the same sex scene we've all seen a few too many times (regardless of how well someone lights a sex scene or how beautiful the people are who are having the "sex," it's still not you and that sucks, doesn't it?). But really, what are we getting out of it? Mindless entertainment, a numbing sense of forgetfulness of any all-to-real life situation or an excuse to not converse with your date for two hours all come to mind, but why? People insist on seeing movies in groups. They find it to be a rewarding social experience, one that makes everyone feel good about nothing in particular. People also immediately frown when it's suggested they attend a film alone. "Alone? How sad..." they say with false conviction. They picture themselves sitting in a maroon chair picking at stale popcorn with no one nearby to complain to. I guess it's just too damn close to a pornographic movie theater experience.
The very fact that we refer to filmmaking as "the business" points to the problem like a brightly swollen, near-bursting pimple that's about to pop (or should be popped right away). I'm aware of the socialist overtones of filmmaking. Coppola has often stated that the job of the film director is one of the few communist positions still available in this great country, and he's right; there is a leader and the minions he controls. Filmmaking is a highly lucrative and job-creating empire that has only grown with greed and stock options.
And there's the problem: mainstream films have always scoffed at film as art because the financial backing of said films is created by men who believe a dutch tilt to be an archaic martial arts move perfected long ago by Mr. Miyagi, bless his soul.
Still, you ask, can films be artistically entertaining? Yes, of course, "The Dark Knight" being a perfect example of epic drama of Greek proportions. Yet, if you asked a regular Joe if he liked the film he'd reply with, "That shit was done and sweet!" Great, not only is the film well-cooked but also well-seasoned.
The ultimate test for an artist is to make something that is uncompromising to his or her own vision. Christopher Nolan, in my opinion, achieved this balance. Many auteurs have, but most have not.
Antonioni's images are playing out in front of my eyes as I type (I know, shut said lid and experience one of the greatest film experiences ever preserved on celluloid, but I've seen it many times before, so there) and I can't help but ponder perfection. Is there such a thing? Not on this planet, but this Italian is pretty damn close when it comes to filmmaking, but the average Joe wouldn't think so, which makes me sad, and I guess also makes the film a failure in terms of mainstream entertainment. But wait, Joe probably can't read, which means he'll just turn up the volume on what he calls entertainment.
