Monday, August 9, 2021

Film Fund-amentals: Redoing the Reboot Before the Remake

 First published March 1, 2012.

Some people can’t stand the word “reboot.” For example, my wife has restricted the word’s usage to only its computer application (and even then in limited amounts). I only use it when I really want to annoy people. Then I go reboot crazy.

So obviously I would be happiest working in Hollywood. I could spend lots of time annoying people and all the reboot chatter would pass for profound business insight. It’s win-win.

Especially since the current list of productions slated for 2012/2013 is mostly sequels (many of which are actually redos of the original movie) and reboots of older films (though these days older simply means that they were made before 3D). And yes, these links are taking you to a web site called Movie Moron, a pretty cool name that totally sums it all up.

We already know that this speaks volumes about the current sorry state of Hollywood. They say they want fresh blood and new ideas but what they are really looking for is an updated version of Father Knows Best. The whole town is stuck in a time loop and it will probably take the Mayan Apocalypse to break the cycle.

It’s all a reminder of what Albert Einstein once said: “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” This certainly applies to such titles on the current roster of reboots such as Fantastic Four: Reborn. The first film was an extremely modest success (released during a slow period and barely held its own against a noticeable lack of competition). The second one didn’t even make it that far. To be honest, neither of the modern films have the solid but fun “bad cinema” value of the cheap and cheesy 1994 version. The lesson to be learned: If it didn’t work the first couple of times, then there’s no reason to think that it is going to work now.

The other hot idea is to redo old classics. To be honest, this has been a standard Hollywood approach since before there were any old classics (for example, the three different versions of The Maltese Falcon churned out by Warner Brothers back in the 1930s). Sometimes this process works, as was the case with the recent production of True Grit. Mostly, it doesn’t. But some of the proposed redos are simply mind-boggling by any estimate. Take for example the new version of Cleopatra. The 1963 version was best known for its out-of-control budget (that nearly broke its own studio); oodles of cheap gossip as Elisabeth Taylor and Richard Burton carried on like crazy horn dogs; an excessively long running time best described once by a TV movie host as: “You don’t time this baby with a clock — you use a calender.”

So obviously producer Scott Rudin (who often knows what he is doing) has a really swell idea. Oh yeah, we need a new run-through of this turkey. Why, this is almost as good of an idea as the threatened redo of Scarface. Of course the original 1983 movie was a remake to begin with (though the 1932 flick was more of a parody) and it didn’t fare all that well when it first came out. But it has since earned a surprisingly strong place in pop culture. I realized that the first time in the late 1980s when I saw a drug dealer driving through town with a bumper sticker saying: “Tony Montana Lives.” Guess everybody needs a role model.

The 1983 movie worked because of a near perfect combination of performance (Al Pacino at his rabid best), major levels of social ruptures in the 1980s that made the main characters both repulsive and half appealing, and a crazy operatic directorial style that is both gross and perversely fascinating (sort of like disco music rewritten by Verdi). It’s a rare mix and not likely to happen again. Same is true of such other threatened remakes as The Dirty Dozen and The Godfather. Movies are not like cooking. You cannot redo the same recipe twice.

This is even more so when the recipe is older than King Tut’s tomb. The only thing in favor of The Thin Man reboot is the curious box office allure of Johnny Depp. The original MGM mystery series was made so long ago that today’s youthful demographic market won’t have a clue. Also the old films had a special combination thanks to their time period (the Great Depression), the vigorous heyday of a particular genre (in this case, both mystery and screwball comedy), and solid teamwork (both cast — William Powell and Myrna Loy — and screenwriters — Albert Hackett and Francis Goodrich).

So far, The Thin Man remake only has Johnny Depp (and for all I know, he may intend to play both Nick and Nora — actually I could see him doing it but I’m not sure how many folks will pay to watch). TV is the main zone for old-style mysteries and the screwball comedy form vanished ages ago. There is simply no place for this film (with or without Depp). The makers would almost be advised to skip the old movies and instead go for the novel (the book by Dashiell Hammett was a surprisingly dark and very noirish reflection of the relationship between himself and Lillian Hellman).

Besides, I thought that adapting novels was passé in modern Hollywood. Anything is possible, but I suspect that the new production of The Great Gatsby will be the final nail in the coffin of literary adaption. The book by F. Scott Fitzgerald is famous for being less a novel and more of a dream, written in an illusionary manner that invokes poetry more than cinema. Because of this, the book is largely unfilmable. This has never stopped anyone from trying (five previous attempts have been made since the silent era) but the attempts have never worked.

The upside for the new Great Gatsby is Leonardo DiCaprio (who is curiously made up to look like Alan Ladd, who bombed in the role back in 1949). The downside is everything else.

Which brings us back to Albert Einstein. The man did a lot of work with the US government and military. He even taught at Princeton University. So the guy had a first-hand feel for insanity. I think he had a point.

Film Fund-amentals: If You Can Make It Here…

 First published March 8, 2012.

The traditional relationship between American movies and the foreign market has entered a murky stage. The long standing rule is that American movies (OK, mainly Hollywood flicks) would dominate the foreign market. Movies made by other countries were either “art films” or cheaply made knock-offs of American movies. The “art films” would make the rounds of the “art theaters” (where people took the time to read subtitles), while the knock-offs would get poor dubbing and pop up on TV around 3am.

But that was about it. The business relationship was primarily a one-way street based upon the general notion that everybody loves American movies. Certainly the influence of Hollywood is undeniable. All you have to do is look at the early films of the French New Wave. When the German director Wim Wenders later commented that “the Yanks have colonized our subconscious,” he was merely describing the contemporary reality.

Which may help to explain why the good citizens of Bratislava, Slovakia, want to name a bridge after Chuck Norris. Also Arnold Schwarzenegger’s popularity in China. That’s also why Johnny Depp is doing ads for the Kiddy Land company in Japan. For better or worse, American movies and TV are the lingua franca of mass entertainment.

OK, a lot of foreign filmmakers have spent years complaining about this fact. I don’t even blame them. As a born and bred American, I have never been able to truly fathom why we Yanks are so capable of dominating this field (I mean, aside from the obvious issue of heavy-handed economic domination). Let’s be honest, no one is forcing people in Slovakia to watch Walker, Texas Ranger. Despite some initial hesitation, the Chinese government embraced Avatar with a giddy enthusiasm.

However, the one-way street of Hollywood’s global strategy may be getting a few lane changes. A growing list of other countries want a cut of the American market. The French were sizing up the possibilities several years before The Artist appeared. The Chinese are anxious to create their own version of a tent-pole blockbuster. Various players from Bollywood keep hoping to make moves into Hollywood either by buying a studio or working through Disney. Even the Turks have dreams, especially as the Turkish cinema moves toward their own brand of epic.

Can any of this work? The basic answer is no. There is absolutely no way to overstate the American movie audience resistance to anything, and I mean positively anything that is “fur-in.” Even The Artist has only made about $36 million at the US box office. Not really too bad for a film with a budget of $16 million (until you add in the estimated $30 million spent for the US marketing campaign). But this isn’t major, especially since it has been playing for over three months. The average American horror movie makes this amount in three days.

It isn’t simply the fact that most Americans dislike reading subtitles (though this is part of the problem). Even if the movie was dubbed (though the standard commercial quality of dubbing in the States run way behind the European approach), it would still go nowhere. America is basically a culturally mixed society with no clue, and many people in the States live in deep denial about virtually any and every other culture. The reason has little to do with xenophobia or political hostility. It just doesn’t seem relevant to most people’s lives here in the States. Sure, this attitude is misguided but it is deeply ingrained.

There are many reasons for this phenomenon, but the basic fact is that the average American leads an existence that is singularly removed from the rest of the global field. Oh sure, we are a world power whose current everyday existence is thoroughly intertwined with a global economy (that we were instrumental in creating) in which even a simple potato farmer in Idaho works with money loaned from China in order to import products to Europe. But the day-to-day reality of the average American is largely closed off from any real sense of this global system (despite the fact that virtually every item of clothing they have on is from a list of countries longer than the roster at the UN).

In turn, Hollywood has created an artificial sense of reality that is mostly bogus but ironically reassuring. Most Americans are extremely comfortable with it. They don’t always like it, but they are comfortable . Anything else is different and they do not adjust well to “different.” I don’t actually mean this as a critical dig at my fellow Americans. To be honest, we are all like this (with just a few minor variations). In many respects, American society is in a period of deep cultural entrenchment.

Which is perhaps the biggest reason why the current hopes of various foreign companies to penetrate the American media market are doomed to failure. Oh sure, there will be the usual four to ten screens available in New York (and a few more in Chicago), but that is about as far as it will go. With luck, a few of these movies will be picked up for a Hollywood redo.

Mostly, they will be an item for a festival at the IFC Center. But that potato farmer in Idaho will tell you that New York City is a different country.

Film Fund-amentals: Phase Three

 First published March 15, 2012.

For all practical purposes, Phase One of the digital revolution is complete. Commercial film production is in the process of going all digital. Commercial film exhibition will do the same by the end of 2013. Likewise, streamed and VoD release is surpassing DVD rental and major retailers are shifting toward digital systems as a means of staying competitive. Digital movie distribution is not only rapidly expanding in the non-theatrical business but will eventually become the sole means for first-run theatrical presentation.

Phase Two is well under way. The Finnish movie Iron Sky is slated for worldwide release (including the US) this spring, making it already one of the most successful efforts yet at online feature filmmaking that combined a mix of traditional investors and crowdfunding sources, interactive production development with an international network of volunteers, and lots and lots of social media presentations.

More importantly, the first global hit has been achieved through digital production and distribution. In less than two weeks, the short documentary film KONY 2012 has scored over 78 million viewers on YouTube. This documentary has also scored lots of controversy, oodles of press attention and more viewers than an expensive space saga released in the same time period. Until KONY 2012, the average success rate of a straight-to-YouTube production has fluctuated between a couple of thousands to a bit over a million. Previous to this, one of the more successful online documentaries had been the Ridley Scott interactive creation of Life in a Day, which scored close to 5 million clicks.

Granted, KONY 2012 is less a documentary and more like that Humane Society of the United States TV ad that leaves everyone weeping. It has also garnered plenty of political criticism from both the Left and the Right. But I am not interested in the film from either an aesthetic or political position. I am addressing the phenomenon itself (which is extremely significant). After all, Disney would have sold its corporate soul to the devil for this large of an audience for the opening of John Carter.

The development of digital production and release has largely taken place under the radar. Most of the film industry is still primarily focused on the traditional model of production and distribution. Simultaneously, the industry is working on many individual components that are paving the way for the total digital approach (ironically, the drive toward 3D has been a huge force in this direction). Until recently, many in the industry thought that the unique collective experience of the movie theater would be strong enough to maintain some form of normative existence within the business. It is only now dawning on many people (especially theater owners) that this theory is wrong. Ironically, this mistake has been made by virtually every other commercial media industry imaginable (for example, newspapers and the music industry). This notion is sort of the Energizer Bunny of bad ideas.

Within a year (more or less), any theater that has not adapted to digital presentation will be gone. Oh sure, a few will try to hang in there as “museums” of “film art,” but access to non-digital material will quickly evaporate. Besides, most owners of theaters (including those who view themselves as running art theaters) are not capable of operating and programming for this type of structure under these extraordinary circumstances. At best, they would have to go for some type of non-profit organizational status based upon monies from civic and/or major business donations. No matter what, they will not ultimately have much to work with as the rest of the universe moves in a radically different direction. Quite literally, there will be no films.

Theatrical distribution is overwhelmingly controlled by the major Hollywood companies. They are hoping to do the same with digital distribution, which is a major reason for the development of the UltraViolet system. This is part of Hollywood’s “concern” about internet piracy (especially as they keep using that term as a catch-all for an increasingly wide range of digital activities — some of which are actually legal). Classic Hollywood existed due to a vertical and horizontal monopoly system. Modern Hollywood survives primarily because of this near-monopoly on distribution.

Which is why Phase Three of the digital revolution is of deep concern. Virtually all aspects of the industry are now dominated by the digital process. Likewise, a film can be produced and released with major viewing success via open digital systems, completely bypassing all levels of corporate Hollywood. With Phase Three, all emerging aspects of the digital process reach a state of total synthesis that results in a basically new and totally independent form of creative media. For want of a better term, we can call it the post-cinema future.

At first, it will be indistinguishable from the past. A collection of old forms in a new package. It will be a few years into Phase Three before people begin to notice the change. But we are now entering the most significant stage yet of media transmutation. All that has gone on before has merely been the beginning.

The real show is about to begin.

Film Fund-amentals: Crowdfunding 2.0

 First published March 22, 2012.

Will Rogers once observed, “This country has come to feel the same when Congress is in session as when the baby gets hold of a hammer.”

Thanks to Senate Bill 1933/H.R. 3606 (Reinvigorating the Capital Markets for Emerging Growth Companies), some indie filmmakers are feeling as if it’s hammer time in the halls of Congress. Actually, the reaction among indie filmmakers is pretty mixed because the issue is so utterly confusing (in reality, what is currently going on regarding Congress and crowdfunding involves numerous bills in both the House and the Senate) that most folks are having trouble keeping track of the debate. Not surprising, since the debate is all over the map, and for most low-budget filmmakers, it might as well be coming from another planet. Heck, the only immediate achievement in these debates is the official agreement that “crowdfunding” is to be used as a single word.

I’ve been trying to follow these various bills and debates. I’m also largely confused about various points regarding the full implementation of these “reforms.” The whole thing sounds like a run through of the Who’s on First routine. A well-informed and detailed breakdown can be found at The Wrap website, courtesy of Jeff Steele’s columns. A lively sense of outrage can be located on Twitter via Lucas McNelly. All I can give you is a very general overview. This is already more than Congress can do, so please bear with me.

Several years ago, crowdfunding made its first soft stirring as an alternative funding venue for extremely low-budget movies. The rules were simple: you posted your proposed project, offered some kind of gift at the end of the project (e.g., a DVD of the finished film) and hoped that a network of people would be willing to donate the funds needed for the movie. It all seemed pretty straightforward.

Despite some doubts and misgivings in certain circles about this approach (admittedly, I had some doubts), it took off and by the end of 2011, crowdfunding had become a major success story. Unfortunately, success not only has a thousand fathers but also a million paternity suits. A process that began with the low-key drive of a Girl Scout Bake Sale was suddenly the focus for “investors.” Investors are very different from donors, and the somewhat nebulous nature of crowdfunding had no clear demarcation line between the two. This is the reason that Congress felt the need to jump in. Too bad. A lot of low-budget indie filmmakers were just starting to enjoy the bake sale.

In my earlier blog piece, I expressed some concerns about the peculiar nature of the crowdfunding system. The people who donated money through crowdfunding were not really donors in any legal sense (which is why they were not entitled to any form of tax write-offs for the money given). Likewise, they were not investors. To even treat them as investors would have been illegal under the rules of the Securities and Exchange Commission. So basically they were simply generous givers who handed out their money in lieu of flushing it down the toilet. I’m not saying that to be snarky. I’m just being blunt. They would give money to a project for no other reason than the sheer thrill of it all.

Amazingly enough, it worked. Not always, but more often than many of us thought possible. However, this type of success has attracted attention from many other quarters, especially people involved in web development who are trying to create a start-up company and are looking for various types of investors but are not able to pursue this approach under current financial structures. The one element shared by all of the bills in Congress is the intention to refashion the core concept of crowdfunding into a forum for investment in small start-up companies. From that perspective, the Congressional debate is absolutely essential.

However, the average low-budget indie filmmaker is not looking to develop a start-up company. Most of their projects are one-shot jobs. They are simply trying to get enough money to make a single movie. If and when crowdfunding is reformed, the new rules and structures would undoubtedly leave a lot of these folks feeling screwed. In fact, they will be screwed. Heck, a lot of indie filmmakers would be better off running a bake sale than dealing with all of the legal paperwork needed for the SEC. It is possible that Congress will enact a dividing line between low-budget crowdfunding efforts and those designed toward start-up companies. But that line will undoubtedly be a difficult mark for many filmmakers who will be working with budgets that are either too little or too much.

Unless a new approach is created for filmmakers dealing with the “reformed” version of crowdfunding, in most cases, it would be useless or even impossible for the majority of indie filmmakers to deal with the new SEC requirements. But it is possible that companies and service providers will be created that can do the job. They wouldn’t really be production companies in any traditional sense of the term. As a rule, they will not be particularly involved in either the production, distribution or promotion of the film. They will be the company dealing with the new rules and regulations of what we can now call Crowdfunding 2.0. There really are no such companies at the moment. But as soon as Congress acts (which could be by this summer, though I suspect it will be later simply because we are talking about Congress, for crying out loud), these companies will appear.

No matter what, crowdfunding will undergo a radical change. Some aspects of this change will be a royal pain in the rear. But I will try to keep in mind what a friend once told me: “There are so many ways this could go right.”

Film Fund-amentals: Audience Discretion Advised

 First published March 29, 2012.

Harvey Weinstein having a fight with the Motion Picture Association of America about a movie’s rating is not exactly an uncommon event. Heck, it wasn’t that long ago that he was duking it out with them over their bizarre R rating for The King’s Speech. Sure, there are several scenes in the film where Bertie can only talk without a stutter by getting angry and cursing a blue steak. But hey, many of us have dealt with eight-year-olds who operate in much the same manner. So none of this is particularly shocking.

Likewise, Weinstein is in a good position to take a stand against the MPAA over the R rating for the documentary Bully. A no-holds-barred documentary on bullying among American youths already has a built-in audience, and lots of young people will, presumably, be primed for the movie (which is part of the reason why the AMC theater chain wants to show it). The language issue that invoked an R from the MPAA has no relevancy to the intended audience (most of whom have either said or heard much worse). If anything, the MPAA has simply built a nice little bully pulpit for Harvey, and he has the courtesy to use it. As the ancient master once said, it’s all publicity.

But it does bring us back to the perpetual question: What the heck is the point of these ratings? I mean, aside from making money for the MPAA. Since the MPAA charges film companies anywhere from $2,500 to $25,000 to slap a rating on a movie, this process is a pretty neat cash cow. Likewise, most commercial theaters will not show a movie without an MPAA rating. So the whole process feels a bit like a protection racket.

It’s no wonder that many filmmakers privately resent the process. Some will even mention that there is no constitutional authority for the ratings. Basically, it’s a form of voluntary coercion (though if you want a wide release for the film, you are stuck with it). The MPAA will tell you that it’s designed to inform parents and protect artistic freedom. In my own experience, most parents are still half confused about the ratings. As for artistic freedom, are they serious? It’s more like a passive-aggressive approach to censorship. I don’t know who writes the copy for the MPAA website, but they might want to spin the material in a slightly more convincing manner.

But that’s OK. A bigger hoot can be found on the website for The Classification and Rating Administration, home to the largely mysterious panel of folks who are used to determine the ratings. There you will find a message from Joan Graves, the MPAA Ratings Chief, which explains that they are right, you are wrong, and what they are doing is for your own good so shut your fat trap you little ingrate. OK, she’s more polite than I am, but it pretty much comes off that way.

She even explains the basis for the ratings. Sort of. Actually, she doesn’t really explain much of anything, but then that is the mystery of the system. In truth, it doesn’t have to explain itself. As Weinstein demonstrated when he appealed the R originally imposed on Bully, the MPAA doesn’t need to say anything more than note that the movie has a lot of rough language (as if R stood for rough and not restricted). By the way, whenever a filmmaker appeals a decision to the MPAA, that is another fee for their services. The panel is supposed to be made up of folks from a diverse range of American society, but the billing practice suggests that they are all lawyers.

Several years ago, I outlined some of the thinking behind rating decisions by the MPAA (A Filmmaker’s Guide to the Ratings). I was only being half-satirical in that piece. The rating system has long been notorious for its bean-counter methodology. One F word will get you a PG-13. More than three F words will get you an R. It’s a small wonder that The King’s Speech didn’t get slapped with an NC-17. By the way, Ms. Graves does point out that NC-17 is not the same as saying “adults can’t and shouldn’t see these films.” Maybe it’s just me, but her tone seems to suggest that you might consider going to confession right afterwards.

The long-standing argument for having the MPAA rating system is that an industry-imposed approach must be in place in order to prevent the government (local, state or federal) from legislating some type of system on movies. In reality, it would be difficult (at best) for any such laws to be created that could pass constitutional muster. The MPAA ratings have no actual legal authority (except in some communities where there are laws requiring enforcement — though it is not clear if any of these laws have been tested in court), and most theaters comply with the ratings as a voluntary service (better known as “cover-your-butt” strategy). Likewise, the ratings primarily affect minors, and it is unlikely (though by no means impossible) that a concerned parent will sue on behalf of their little darling’s rights to see an NC-17 flick.

It also doesn’t help that the most consistent amount of noise about the ratings often comes from so-called “family” groups who argue that the MPAA is too lenient. Of course, this takes us back to the MPAA’s argument that we need their system in order to prevent other, possibly more repressive approaches, from being created. The whole thing quickly turns into a political Catch 22.

Which is why the rating system will not go away anytime soon. At best, it is the unbearable used as a buffer against the unthinkable. But the system is long overdue for major reform. For example, the charge for the ratings desperately needs to be revamped in order to make it more accessible to low-budget filmmakers. Likewise, a more objective and rational set of standards needs to be used by the ratings board with some type of variable structure related to the obvious differences between films. After all, The King’s Speech is not the same as The Hangover (which worked a lot harder at earning its R rating). The current system is mostly composed of the panel’s sense of pique and whimsy. Sure, the MPAA insists that it is merely representing current “community standards.” But what “community?” Whose “standards?” There is simply no level of agreement on that issue.

What the rating system really does is to both impose and enforce the MPAA’s own notion of community standards. So maybe they should be more upfront about this process. Better still, they might be advised to move out of their secretive shell and start having more of a dialog with the affected “communities.”

Who knows — it might be an educational experience for all involved.

Film Fund-amentals: The Summer Forecast

 First published April 4, 2012.

OK, it is now official. Hollywood is in a steep slide down a slippery slope courtesy of its fondness for big-budget tent pole movies. Well, that is one way of reading the recent report by Benjamin Swinburne, Morgan Stanley’s chief analyst for film and broadcasting.

Due to a variety of factors, Swinburne presents clear data showing that the actual revenue for movies made by the major companies has dropped by 40 percent between 2007 and 2011. Declines in box office and video revenue are part of the problem. But he also notes that: “Only through significant realignment of (movie) cost levels, particularly in the area of marketing and distribution but also overall production costs, can values be maximized.” In other words, the major Hollywood companies are making movies that are way too expensive and spending way too much at every level for a “profit” that is increasingly non-existent.

OK, I have been saying the same thing for the last three years, but I don’t work for Morgan Stanley and their word is taken a lot more seriously in the business than mine. Too bad. I’m nicer. However, we both have a point, and the upcoming summer movie season could be the ultimate testing ground for the impending tent-pole movie implosion.

The summer movie season of 2012 (which sort of started in February) is dominated by a collection of some of the most expensive movies ever made. With a base average budget of $100 to $150 million (the low end being $70 million and a high end of $250 million or more), the upcoming months will be dominated by some of the costliest advertising campaigns imaginable. The tone is already picking up a strange smell of desperation combined with a sense of shifty-eyed bluffing more associated with a round of liar’s poker.

Since we have already gone through the pre-summer release slate (movie releases are now divided between the “summer” and the “Holidays” — the rest of the year is simply a few weeks between these two), a clear pattern has developed. At best, only one film a month stands any chance of being a major success (The Lorax in March and more recently The Hunger Games). The rest are dead on arrival (for example, John Carter). We can call this The Highlander theory, since there can be only one.

This really isn’t a surprise due to the shifts in audience viewing habits as well as a growing weariness from the worn-out movie franchise approach. Add in the basic fact that the current economy is forcing many people to cut spending to the bone (and beyond), combined with steep cost increases at the box office, and you have the perfect storm model. At best, nobody can afford to go to all of these movies every weekend, and lots of people are holding back for just the select few major event flicks of the year.

The only sure thing this summer is The Dark Knight Rises. This sucker already has as many fan sites on the web as Lindsay Lohan has traffic tickets. Even if it turns out to be two hours of Christian Bale reading the phone book (which I would like to officially offer as the rumor du jour), the anticipation is enough to push the movie through the roof. Despite its late opening date (July 20th), The Dark Knight Rises will be the 800 pound gorilla in the room that everybody else has to work around.

With the May 4 release of The Avengers, Marvel Studios will have reached the summit of their masterful business plan to make really expensive movies that have no plausible way of breaking even. Since their last two productions (Thor and Captain America: The First Avenger) actually did much better in Europe than in the States, Stan Lee had better hope that the euro stays stable. The same goes for The Amazing Spider-Man. Marvel-based movies have a surprisingly fixed return rate that is OK, but they don’t seem to understand their own limits.

But I suspect that the first major causality of the summer will be Dark Shadows. It rarely works to make a big-budget movie based on an old TV series. Likewise, it doesn’t help to turn it into what appears to be a campy comedy (even if the original series had a wild and crazy melodramatic buzz). So the only real question is which movie in May will do worse, Dark Shadows or Battleship? Most likely, it will be Battleship (though it will have a stronger hold on the highly over-rated young male viewer ship — that is, if the young male audience can get summer jobs and buy their tickets).

The only advantage Men in Black III will have is a release date free of competition. Since the previous sequel (made ten years ago) did badly and is viewed by many as a total embarrassment, the effort to do another sequel isn’t exactly based on rational thinking. Even the recent release of the movie’s theme song has already resulted in lots of critical snipping, so I suspect this baby will have a bumpy ride.

Perhaps the only significant wild card of the summer will be Prometheus, Ridley Scott’s quasi-prequel to Alien. Advance word suggests that the movie is kind of an odd mix of Alien, Blade Runner and whatever else happened to pop into Sir Ridley’s mind. Most of Scott’s films don’t go very far. But every so often, he creates the defining film of the decade (for example, Alien and Blade Runner). His batting average is way below .500, but when he does connect with the ball it becomes a homer.

As for the rest of the summer, what can I say? Read some good books, go to the pool, and hope it doesn’t turn into a global warming scorcher like last year.

Film Fund-amentals: JOBS Act and Crowdfunding

 First published April 12, 2012.

I was wrong. I thought the congressional debate on the JOBS (Jumpstart Our Small Businesses Act — and yes, the acronym is screwy) would take a bit longer than it did. Heck, here lately Congress can’t even agree if it’s a nice day without lots of heated accusations and a threatened government shut down.

But the bill is signed, sealed and delivered, which means that crowdfunding is about to get a major overhaul. A key part of this act completely rewrites the structure of crowdfunding, but does so in a manner that leaves an odd range of unanswered questions. It’s a reminder of what Will Rogers once said about a baby with a hammer.

As I explained a few weeks ago, the JOBS Act places crowdfunding under the control of the Securities and Exchange Commission. A lot of people who were involved in the original development of crowdfunding were really hoping to avoid this, since it drastically alters the framework of the process. The intent of this act is to make crowdfunding available for use by entrepreneurs looking to jumpstart funding for a small business. The pressure for this revamp has largely come from the silicon realm, where a virtual generation of Steve Jobs wannabes are anxious to take their digital visions to the marketplace. This sounds all fine and dandy.

However, the short history of crowdfunding has largely been that of folks engaged in much more limited, single-focused projects. This has been the primary concern of crowdfunding during its brief but successful run. Ironically, this is the one issue that the JOBS Act largely ignores, as it leaves open a faint hint that certain exceptions may be made to the new regulations and then orders the SEC to work out the details.

So where does this act leave the young indie filmmaker who is hoping to raise around $10,000 for a small documentary about, let’s say, the environmental issues related to a small stream? Up the creek without a paddle? Maybe. Certainly when the JOBS Act kicks into full gear in 2013, the prospect of simply raising money via crowdfunding for a relatively small project looks dim. It is possible that the SEC will carve out some type of safe zone where the old model of crowdfunding can still operate. Oddly enough, this would be a bit surprising, since this really isn’t how the SEC does business. They regulate things. They don’t normally tell people to run wild and have a good time.

This is one of the reasons why some people are having a negative reaction to these changes. Most people who have been using the crowdfunding approach have not been trying to start a business. They are only trying to complete a single project. Most likely, once the SEC is done figuring out the new rules, people pursuing crowdfunding in this manner will have to deal with greater regulatory demands as well as some form of a more defined business structure and investment model. The reason for this is simple: Congress views crowdfunding exclusively as a form of investment.

The old model avoided this issue altogether. People who gave money to a project through a crowdfunding site were in no way making an investment. They were simply handing out money. The process wasn’t a charity either, since that would have involved the IRS. So it was a one-way street of strangers giving other strangers money for the thrill of it.

But it is now a form of investment, and that is a whole new game. New websites built upon the investment model are already forming (even though it will be later in the year before they can start operating). Other sites such as Kickstarter are sticking with the old model until the government tells them otherwise. Nobody really seems to have a clue how this new process will develop, and the SEC is still sorting out what they are supposed to regulate as well as what they are supposed to deregulate.

Which brings up the other major problem with the JOBS Act. In order to convert crowdfunding into an investment model for business start-ups, a lot of key SEC regulations have been altered and/or dropped. This makes it easier for the average Joe to jump in and invest. It also makes it possible for the average Joe to lose his shirt (and pants and socks and shoes).

The old crowdfunding model was remarkable for its relative lack of “problems.” I suspect that this was due in part to the outrageously simplistic nature of the system. Short of floating a totally bogus project, there wasn’t much room for monkey business. But many people feel that the new investment model will result in massive acts of fraud. To be honest, I do not have either the legal or financial qualifications for assessing this issue. But my gut instincts tell me that it will trigger a fraudsters stampede.

The reason is obvious. Most financial fraud is based upon playing fast and easy with the rules and regulations of any given business. The more regulations you have, the more room to play. The JOBS Act is seemingly designed to create a vast board game for the fraud crowd. I have no doubt that they will rise to the new challenge.

So be careful out there.