When Anything Can Happen, Nothing Matters
Film theory: an explanation for why so many overproduced movies are emotionally unsatisfying
If you've ever watched a movie where the climax was approaching and the story just started getting too big for its britches, and the filmmakers kept adding ridiculous twists and turns, and upping the ante, and instead of feeling like the movie was getting more interesting, instead it became harder to suspend disbelief and the story started to feel disconnecting, or you began wondering how much longer the movie will take, how much more climatic this already hyped-up scene will get... congratulations, you have experienced what I term,
"When Anything Can Happen, Nothing Matters."
When done right, the action in a story feels personal to individual characters, and when we know the stakes (and the stakes are not just "lots of empty emotionless buildings will get smashed, the whole city is under threat!") then we can feel empathy for specific characters, and we are drawn into the narrative. When the film-makers keep "pulling back" and doing a lot of what Brad Bird called "God shots" with the camera where we are looking down on the action from above, because the spectacle is so vast we have to take the mile-high view, literally, when the focus shifts to spectacle over character, then we are at risk of losing track of why we should care.
A list of movies that suffer somewhat from this problem:
- Incredibles 2 (literally trying to save the city)
- Despicable Me 3 (really fun movie with a trumped up, silly, even boring ending)
- Minions (story gets too big, literally)
- Penguins of Madagascar (save the city, save everyone)
- Home (2015 DreamWorks film) - save the planet
- The Hobbit (fun story, fun story, war campaign, fun story, fun story)
- The Avengers (2012 film - save the city, punch a building, nuclear threats, endless outsized horrors, and expanding good-guy powers to counter the horrors)
There are many other examples.
An example of a franchise that makes clear rules, in order to avoid this problem, is the Harry Potter books and films. The rules are there to make sure that the writer and reader know that the rules cannot just change at the drop of a hat. Something is at stake. We will not feel emotionally manipulated: "Oh know! Oh know! It's about to get terrible! ... just kidding, the good guys had this, the whole time!" No one wants that.
Note that when this rule is knowingly broken, and when new rules or weird backstories are introduced, but the writers dig in, and explore the ramifications, it can create tension and fun stories, for example the series Adventure Time, and Rick and Morty, which are truly bananas at times, but the stories explore that craziness instead of pouring it on thick and then magically erasing the craziness a few minutes later.
Note also that superhero stories can feel connecting when individual characters are vulnerable, and we can relate to them and imagine ourselves in their shoes. Spider-man and Batman are two examples. Spider-man allows us to wonder what we would do with new powers. And he is always getting banged up and hurt. He struggles even to understand his powers at times. That aspect of a superhero story is relatable and very human. Batman is even better, because he is the ultimate self-made superhero. He created his own superpowers with his intelligence, his gadgets, his study of combat. And he is still very vulnerable. We worry about his fate because he is so human (he is literally not superhuman like Thor or Superman). The opposite is very disconnecting, the struggles of titanic forces against each other: evil gods and good gods fighting at an inhumanely large scale.