What does the audience want?

This seems to be the question keeping Hollywood up at night. People aren’t showing up for superhero movies like they used to, and Star Wars has become two four-letter words. The Fall Guy was a flop, so maybe they actually don’t want more Ryan Gosling? We’ll see if the latest chapter of the Apes is the surprise hit of the summer, but from what I’m hearing even that may not mean much.

Audiences are simple. No need to overcomplicate things. We just want good stories.

A good story has consistent internal logic. It doesn’t talk down to its audience or tell them what to think. There must be characters we understand on a human level who grow and change with the story’s various events. This is Screenwriting 101 and apparently no longer a required course. 

Jump to Screenwriting 401: Subverting Expectations to Push “The Message.”

Solving the story problem is pretty simple. But there’s a second issue that I find more interesting. How will they package these movies? Last night on Film Threat Versus host Chris Gore (yes, he’s back!) asked, “Why not new franchises?” Everything (even The Fall Guy) is tied to a preexisting property. Disney CEO Bob Iger just said he’s into “IP mining,” which sounds about as heartwarming as deforestation. 

No, now is the time for fresh, standalone films that are so wonderful we’ll be left asking for more.

They need to get back to the showbiz adage: Always leave’em wanting more.  

And then make no promises of giving us more, because creating the desire was always the only intention.

There’s also the matter of genre. We like science fiction, westerns, action movies, dramas, horror, and so forth. The comic book movie, Hollywood’s bread and butter since 2008, is gradually falling out of favor because it’s betrayed us too many times and we value our time and money. Now we’re seeing the industry searching for a new genre du jour in a way I haven’t seen in 30 years.

Remember the early 90s?

It was a great time. There was a resurgence of westerns, with Dances with Wolves, Tombstone, Unforgiven, Maverick and others on the big screen. On TV we had Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman, Walker: Texas Ranger, The Adventures of Brisco County Jr., and Harts of the West. But it was just a flash in the pan, and 1999’s Wild, Wild, West sent the cowboy movie back to Boot Hill.

It was also the time when they experimented with pulp heroes.

Dick Tracy and Tim Burton’s Batman were just the start. Other characters no one but our grandparents remembered got movie reboots, with The Phantom, The Shadow, and The Saint, and the new creation, The Rocketeer, fit right in beside them. Unfortunately, while they’ve become cult classics now, most of the movies weren’t well-received, and I don’t think TV even tried.

Now that the media landscape has drastically changed and there’s a new generation of viewers, could one of these genres get another chance?

Blaine over at Criticless Cast thinks so. On yesterday’s news video he reported on several westerns that are currently in production. Given the success of Yellowstone and all its spinoffs, maybe now’s the time. We’ll see. And as for the pulps, well, I’m hoping heroes of that type might take root in indie fiction. In any case, while everyone is looking for the Next Big Thing it’s pretty much guaranteed that we’ll get some very interesting hits and misses.

Out of all the great literary detectives, my favorite is Nero Wolfe, or maybe Archie Goodwin. But since they usually arrive as a matched set I guess it doesn’t make much difference, if any. I’ve always liked it when genres are mashed together, and Rex Stout’s novels are the perfect blend of the genteel European detective (Wolfe) with the hardboiled American gumshoe (Goodwin).

I haven’t read the entire Wolfe corpus, but at some point I’ll probably get there.

Murder by the Book, is (according to Amazon) the 19th Nero Wolfe Mystery. Published in 1951, it was the first full length novel Stout had written in a while, seeming to prefer writing collections of short stories. The book opens with Inspector Cramer coming to Wolfe for help. In his hand he’s got a list of meaningless names, which is somehow connected to the murder of a law clerk. Unfortunately, Wolfe has no insight.

A month later, circumstances change with the arrival of a new client.

Wellman, a grocery store owner from Illinois, askes Wolfe to investigate the murder of his daughter, who was a reader for a New York publishing house. The only thing the grieving father knows is that her last assignment was reading a novel by Baird Archer, and that after meeting with him she was found dead. Somehow Wolfe remembers that name from Cramer’s list and we’re off to the races.

I’m not sure I like this one very much. 

Many of the Wolfe stories are quite funny, and, while never fully removed from the real world and human emotion, veer aware from the uncomfortable. Reading Murder by the Book, there were several times I found myself wincing. [Minor spoilers] The first time is when Archie goes to interview the mother of a second murdered girl, only to find that the adoring mother has not yet been informed. Later, Wolfe receives a written confession for all the murders and let’s just say the first wasn’t a clean killing. 

The long letter, recounted in full, was a device I didn’t care for, either.

While there is some humor in the first third (especially Archie’s party with a bunch of drunk secretaries), the story just gets darker and darker, until we realize that this might feature the most cold-blooded killer Wolfe ever sent to the chair. Stout writes masterfully, of course, and nothing is untrue to the world he created. It’s just a more chilling side, and sadder side, of that world. 

Many mystery aficionados say they return to this one again and again, and I understand why.

Murder by the Book is the full package: mystery, twists, turns, humor, horror, and love in all its various forms. The dialog is crisp and the prose is descriptive. But it will be a while before I want to read it again.

Last weekend I signed up for a seven day free trial of the horror streaming service Shudder so that I could see Late Night with the Devil.

That movie has way too much unpack, so I won’t be talking about it right now.

Not really being a horror fan, but not wanting to miss an opportunity, I looked over Shudder’s other offerings. There I found the exclusive 2019 documentary Leap of Faith: William Friedkin on The Exorcist. It’s been at least fifteen years since I watched The Exorcist and it’ll never be a favorite (I’d question anyone who says it is), but I love Hollywood behind the scenes stories. Turns out, Friedkin isn’t just a good storyteller behind the camera.

This is one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen.

Before getting into the nitty-gritty of the documentary, first I need to talk about the man himself. There’s a legitimate complaint that the majority of filmmakers working in the mainstream right now don’t have any original thoughts or life experience. They’re swept through school and suddenly arrive in writers’ rooms and director’s chairs to pump out the content studio heads demand. If they know anything of classic film, or the source material for the comic books they’re supposed to be adapting, or established history, they’re told to repress it.

Not so with Friedkin.

His depth of knowledge in regard to classic film is Phd level, and he discusses at length why certain motifs work and how they inspired him. But it’s not simply academic knowledge. It’s human. How people think, feel, and are moved is something to which he’s given deep thought. Friedkin is also a student of art and music. Without those inspirations, The Exorcist wouldn’t still resonate today. 

And the documentary does him justice.

The documentarian searched out every piece of art, film, and music he references and puts in on screen. Some of them are animated to show how they become part of The Exorcist, and scenes from the movie are used to illustrate where things went right compared to how they nearly went terribly wrong. I would imagine that even people who have studied the movie will see things they never noticed before.

One criticism:

Leap of Faith lost me every time Friedkin started philosophizing. After a certain point, the fact that he’s thought about things ceased to be relevant and his opinions don’t interest me. The point had been made earlier. Thankfully, it doesn’t take up too much time. Nevertheless, he’s an undeniably interesting and thoughtful man, not just a studio hack. Was an interesting and thoughtful man: he passed away last year.

We need more timeless documentaries.

What you may have picked up on by now is that this documentary is about far more than the making of the movie. That's just the gateway to a conversation about art and storytelling, life and creativity. I have no desire to watch the latest political talking points spread out over 90 to 120 minutes. That’s "content" which will be meaningless in a generation or less (probably less). But by starting with art, we’re encouraged to think about the art of living.

That makes Leap of Faith as timeless as The Exorcist.