Aristotle meets the Monster that ate Hollywood

More than two millenia have passed since Aristotle wrote his Poetics, an exposition on playwrighting. Today, it is mostly read by college freshmen forced to do so to meet core curriculum requirements at the better liberal arts colleges. Few read it with pleasure. Most forget it with alacrity. Plawrights and screenwriters, however, ignore Aristotle's Poetics at their peril. Hollywood producers, unfortunately, ignore him religiously. In fact, they stand him on his head.

In his Poetics, Aristotle lists, in order of importance, the six elements which make a great play: 1) plot; 2) character; 3) theme; 4) diction; 5) song, and 6) spectacle. Hollywood producers invest heavily in "production values." This is just a fancy phrase for "spectacle." Special effects, stunts, car chases, explosions, etc. consume the largest chunks of their budgets. Story is an afterthought.

Hollywood is digging its own grave. At the very least, "they" are starving our culture. Big budgets require rapid returns. A movie must get on as many screens as possible. The lion's share of the investment must be recouped in the first weeks after release - before the fickle audience sprints on to see newer and more "spectacular" special effects. This requires a huge investment in advertising - which only makes the hole even deeper. If the producers guess wrong, they might as well jump in the grave and let the bean counters kick the dirt in.

Demographics drives decision-making. On weekends, the malls of America are filled with adolescents. Parents are glad to get rid of them for a few hours. Hollywood producers compete furiously to draw these millions of kids into the theaters. These kids don't come to hear a story. They want to watch things blow up during the intervals between their glandular secretions. This is the beast Hollywood seeks to feed not tame.

The rewards are enormous. The dead hand of risk aversion gropes everywhere. Even medium budget projects must run the gauntlet of bean counters and demographics gurus before they get the green light. Nia Vardalos wrote a funny slice of life story called My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Eventually (so the rumor goes), she found herself in a room with 53 people weighing the pros and cons of taking her stage play and making it into a movie. A consensus took hold: cute story, bad demographics. They told her to transform her Greek family into a Mexican or Italian family. Ms. Vardalos put her foot down. "No! I'm Greek!," she said. If Mr. and Mrs. Tom Hanks had not been firmly in her corner, the movie probably would never have been made.

Storytelling or plot - #1 on Aristotle's list - costs next to nothing. Have you ever seen a big budget film trumpet the screenwriter in its advertisements? Of course not. The public is wooed by the lead actors or the director. The writer is a cipher. So - Hollywood marginalizes the writer while it spends millions for demolitions experts. It's all about feeding the monster.

This state of affairs creates a marvelous opportunity for regional film companies. There is plenty of talent here in Denver - a few good writers and dozens of excellent actors. Ask anyone who attends theater regularly.

Every state in the Union can support a film industry. Colorado is especially well-suited, blessed with "spectacular" scenery, a dry, sunny climate, and an innovative technological sector. Our population is large enough to support high quality, story-intensive, low budget films. The Colorado Film Commission, presently, rebates 10% of "below-the-line" costs for movies made here. That's a good start. But a strategic decision must be made. Can Colorado recapitulate the experience of New York City in the first decades of the 20th Century where theater and film cross-pollonated? The acting talent is already here. We should use it. The writing talent needs nurturing. Let's do so.

(Did you know that the next Sam Shepard graduated from Centaurus High School just five years ago?)

Hollywood abandoned the writer decades ago. Our culture piles up more rubbish year after year. The writer stands against this trend with his finger in the dike. We have a duty to stand up to the Monster that ate Hollywood.