Had some interesting back-and-forth at work yesterday about this trailer:
I liked the first trailer quite a bit, as it had some great visuals and didn’t feel beholden to the main Star Wars story (even though it plays a significant role in setting up A New Hope). And this second trailer is great, too. Lots more character moments along with some great visual shots that put your Star Wars imagination in a different place.
A few weeks ago, the folks at The Ringer posted what could almost be labeled as a screed about movie trailers and their tendency to say everything about a movie before you actually see it. Case in point:
Trailers are ruining comedies by including all the funny parts. Seth Rogen: Your movies are funny, and I don’t really need to pay to see them anymore because all the jokes are free in the four Neighbors 2 trailers. Trailers are ruining horror movies by revealing all the scares. Trailers are ruining great movies. Almost all of Sicario’s best scenes are In. The. Trailer. … What?
I did not see Neighbors 2, so I can’t speak to that. But I did see Sicario, and I mostly agree with the author’s assessment. (Granted, I also thought Sicario was greatly overrated.)
I think there’s a place for great trailers. Just yesterday a student showed the Walter Mitty trailer from 2013. On some level, that trailer transcends the movie in a good way. The same for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Both do something vital: they may give you lots of little narrative pieces, but that obscure the way the movie actually plays out. (This is true so long as you stay away from internet discussion and speculation, I suppose.)
But Chris Ryan, the author of the Ringer piece, does get something right: the need for something new all the time from movie companies.
Why are movie studios doing this? Here’s a theory: With the emergence of social media marketing departments come new metrics for engagement. People watch trailers online; it’s fun, and if it’s not fun it’s a harmless distraction. Like everything else on the internet, content creation is a furnace. You need to feed it. So marketing departments demand more and more footage, and studios and filmmakers go along with it because they want their films to be seen. But by the end of the promotional cycle, the movie itself is just a two-hour albatross hanging around a three-minute trailer’s neck.
That’s the beauty of something like Comic-Con. You may not get whole movies, but you get a foretaste of things you’ll get to see a year in the future. Call me “guilty as charged” on this account.
I do have one “trailer” rule when it comes to movies, partly out of necessity, partly out of the joy of anticipation. I do my best to stay away from non-theatrical previews. As soon as clips start leaking for TV promotions, the kid gloves are off for what is permissible. This is particularly true for movies like Star Wars or even 10 Cloverfield Lane, where I wanted to know something but not much.
My least favorite part of the second Rogue One trailer? The inclusion of Vader at the end. Totally unnecessary. As a co-worker said yesterday, it would be great if Vader was always on the edge of the scene, a presence hinted at and worked around without becoming the movie’s main villain. We’ll find out the case this winter (unless trailers spoil it for us).
You can read the entire “Stop Watching Movie Trailers” article here.
Since the conception of “youth culture,” the tendency towards an entertainment-first focus has always been a danger. Bells and whistles, light shows and rock music, spiritual highs and week-later letdowns have always been landmines in the field of souls. The folks at First Things have posted a couple of articles about the new “ontological reality” that is entertainment as baseline not just for young people, but now for everyone. As the fish in David Foster Wallace’s parable might say: Entertainment? Entertainment is water. From Carl Trueman’s recent First Things post:
This semester I’m trying a couple of new things with my students to try and engage them on an intellectual level that doesn’t necessarily feed the beast of academia. We are currently in a unit where we talk about the big questions of existence. So last night, I had them do five minutes of research on Nick Bostrom’s “simulation theory” (this after researching Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” as well as multiverse theory). I only know of Bostrom and his theory because of Chuck Klosterman’s But What If We’re Wrong? One chapter of the book ends up being about theories some might be led to label “conspiracy” but that transcend the descriptor. Here’s how Klosterman described Bostrom’s “not the Matrix” theory of reality:
Over the course of The Fractured Republic, Yuval Levin traces the recent history of both our country and the people who constitute it. While government and big business and culture are huge movers in the story, the daily practitioners of “expressive individualism” are the proof in the pudding. “Expressive individualism” reflects the fatal end of a certain kind of liberty. Which is why it’s good that Levin brings up the issue of liberty in the context of individuals, especially when the unspoken motto of every American is “don’t tread on me.
One of the things that has been most beneficial for me from reading Yuval Levin’s The Fractured Republic is that it has given me better language to describe the situation we find ourselves in. Case in point: Levin’s discussion of the difference between community and identity. Both terms are deeply personal, but both terms have also been abstracted to our detriment. Having asserted the need for a “mid-level subsidiarity” for common life, he tackles the difference.
While I haven’t listened to the interview to be found at the article’s end, I did enjoy the recent Forbes piece on “The Inklings at War” by Jerry Bower. In the article, Bowyer traces the philosophical implications of the first World War, particularly in light of contemporary culture, from Joseph Loconte’s A Hobbit, a Wardrobe, and a Great War.



