In this final installment, "Film Critics and the Film Industry" highlights "Snakes on a Plane" and why that might have been the one film appropriate to pass over film critics.
"The Da Vinci Code" gave film industry executives some indication of the methods to make a movie successful without investing itself in print-media coverage, the most important of which was to create buzz or controversy months in advance of the film's release.
This wouldn't be an easy feat to manufacture again. "The Da Vinci Code" rode along on the controversy that its source material created within the Catholic Church. Could film industry executives expect to create a buzz of that magnitude again?
Not necessarily. Enter "Snakes on a Plane" and its inadvertently explosive Internet marketing. Once production on the film began, The Hollywood Reporter wrote, Internet users picked up on the film. They were enticed by the mere sight of its very blatant and very stupid title. Soon blogs, fan sites, T-shirts, fake movie trailers, songs and poems transformed "Snakes on a Plane" into a genuine cultural phenomenon.
The industry executives didn't even have to lift a finger; the film took on a life of its own. But even that didn't stop them from stirring up an even larger buzz among the Internet community. By filming additional scenes suggested by the Internet fan base, filmmakers effectively placed "Snakes on a Plane" in the hands of the common viewer.
Industry executives then did the fan base one turn better: they let it, and not the critics, be the first to see the film. For an industry that is so frequently painted as money-hungry, this was a strange move. Maybe the executives no longer cared about box office earnings and industry clout.
Or maybe "Snakes on a Plane" just sucked, and they didn't want critics revealing this on opening week. Which scenario is most truthful depends on the critic you read. All five publications examined for this article decided to cover the film, and all but Rolling Stone gave the airplane thriller a fairly positive review.
The New York Times, The Chicago Sun-Times, The Boston Globe and The Washington Post all agreed: "Snakes on a Plane" was one purposefully dumb, but very fun, experience. Whether the film executives knew what they were doing, they made the right decision to withhold press screenings. In a theater full of jaded film critics, this film would have seemed tired. But at a midnight screening packed with teenage and college-age viewers, "Snakes on a Plane" sprung to life.
"The kids applauded feverishly for virtually anything," Washington Post critic Jen Chaney wrote. "The opening titles, the first appearance of Samuel L. Jackson, the plane's takeoff, every snake attack and, of course, that much-awaited line of dialogue, 'I have had it with these ... snakes on this ... plane!'"
When and if these critics did mention the absent prescreening, they were anything but perturbed. Only Rolling Stone critic Peter Travers, who failed to see the film in a packed theater and therefore could not comprehend the communal viewing experience, expressed any irritation.
"I hit the 10 a.m. show opening day at a multiplex in midtown Manhattan," Travers wrote. "It worked out great. Expecting multi-dudes clamoring to get in, I encountered only 14 ticket buyers who remained quiet and snoozy throughout the film. ... 'SoaP' is a movie of its time, best remembered not for its content but for its motherfuckin' marketing campaign."
Perhaps the film industry is unintentionally doing some good by not pre-screening certain films for critics. Despite what Travers wrote, there seems to be a certain kind of film, though very rare indeed, that doesn't deserve a pre-screening. It's of the "Snakes on a Plane" variety, so abnormally integral to the cultural commune that it can only be viewed and enjoyed in the presence of others.
As for the rest of the films not pre-screened for critics, they're of an entirely different breed, much more common and much less interesting than "Snakes on a Plane." There's not a whole lot the print critics can do when a distributor decides to withhold a press screening. They can scrawl tirades across their lead paragraphs; they can write articles about the studio trends; they can even do what Travers did in a piece titled "Critic Proof?"
In that article, the Rolling Stone critic outlines why the industry avoids press screenings on certain occasions and how the industry covers up its bad press and its bad box office returns. Though his film criticism can sometimes be shortsighted, Travers' article provides the most plausible solution: inform viewers so they can make educated decisions at the movie theater.
The industry will continue to dictate trends based on what it believes the audience wants, and if the audience doesn't want to see the movies industry executives won't screen to critics, then maybe something will change.
Whatever the reaction may be, it can't happen until the audience - the real decision-makers here - starts figuring out what it wants from the film industry, starts getting educated about the film marketing and film distributing processes and stops going to movies it has no desire to see.
