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Cinema

20th Century Fox, Disney and the Future of “Home Video”

When Disney purchased 20th Century Fox it acquired not only its intellectual property and in-production franchises, but also Fox’s film and television archive. I know that sounds obvious, but most coverage of the merger focuses on Disney’s stranglehold on the theatrical box office and who owns what superhero. You know, the “important” shit. (Pardon my expletive, but this post needs some fucking language.) Putting it mildly, Fox has been around for a very long time and made a lot of goddamn wonderful movies.

Pre 20th century fox
The Fox Film logo – before the merger with Twentieth Century.

A Brief History of 20th Century Fox

Hungarian-born newsboy turned mogul William Fox formed Fox Film Corporation on February 1, 1915 as the successor to his earlier projects, the Greater New York Film Rental Company and Box Office Attractions Film Company. Fox helped initiate the movie business’s move from New York to Hollywood in 1917 when he set up West Coast production facilities because the climate was more hospitable for filmmaking. In 1926 he bought the patents for the Movietone sound system – the sound-on-film method for recording synchronized picture and sound on the same strip of film. F.W. Murnau’s Sunrise (1927) became the first film released with Movietone. The film included music and sound effects and a few unsynchronized words. When the stock market crashed in 1929, the near bankrupt William Fox was stripped of his film empire and Fox Film and its more than 500 theaters went into receivership.

Created in 1933 by Joseph Schenck (former president of United Artists) and Darryl F. Zanuck (former studio executive and producer at Warner Bros.), Twentieth Century Pictures was an independent production company that distributed through United Artists and leased studio space at Samuel Goldwyn Studios. After a failure to merge with United Artists in 1934 (blame Mary Pickford), Schenck and Zanuck turned their attentions to failing Fox Studios. A hostile takeover later, 20th Century-Fox was born in 1935.

20th century fox logo

Among the studio’s first contracted stars were Tyrone Power, Carmen Miranda, Don Ameche, Henry Fonda, Gene Tierney, Betty Grable, and perhaps most importantly, Shirley Temple – the child actress who shepherded the young studio through the Great Depression.

For the next 83 years, 20th Century-Fox (the hyphen was dropped in the 80s when Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation acquired the studio) was one of the “Big Six” American film studios. That’s a lot of movies. That’s a lot of history. And now Disney owns it all. Once everyone gets over the fact that Marvel has the X-Men back (mock cheer), there’s going to be a reckoning and a seismic shift in the way we’re allowed to consume media.

The Future of Fox Repertory Screenings

Disney has long held a policy to restrict the screening of its films by first-run or commercial discount cinemas. After the acquisition of 20th Century Fox, the Little Theatre in Rochester, NY was informed that their screening of Fight Club would no longer take place as scheduled. As expected, the Disney no-exhibition policy has been applied to Fox’s expansive catalog as well – the exception being the midnight-mainstay The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

rocky horror 20th century fox

It’s not exactly that clear cut, however. Disney places theaters into two categories: “repertory” or “commercial.” Commercial theaters can screen Disney’s first-run features, but can’t play catalog titles. If the theater has “repertory” designation it can play old movies, but not first-run. Disney did not consult anyone about these designations. Successful appeals have been made, but as many programmers have pointed out, it’s not realistic to designate theaters as either one or the other. Many independent theaters that program repertory must balance their programming to stay afloat by running first-run features. No other major studio has such a policy — and this will undoubtedly cripple the available titles for many small-town locally-owned theaters.

And How This Applies to Home Video

While repertory theaters flounder in the dark, trying to navigate the obstacle course placed in front of them – home video consumers also sense the coming of a chilly winter where Disney expands their “vault” to include any number of Fox catalog titles.

Disney launches its brand new streaming service Disney+ on December 11. For $7 a month, subscribers can access almost everything the company creates. In addition to its Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar and classic animation, the service will offer a significant number of original shows and movies. Jeff Goldblum’s show about whatever, The Mandalorian, and She-Hulk (and dozens of other Marvel properties) have been buzzy members of the lineup. With the addition of Fox, you’ll also see all 30 seasons of The Simpsons, for example, alongside the integration of classic Fox programming like The Sound of Music. Disney has also promised the “reimagining” of Fox franchises “for a new generation” is also in the works. (They’ve threatened a Home Alone reboot.)

Most everyone has made the logical assumption that Disney+ represents the next step in home viewership. The future of physical media is imperiled. Most statistics show that sales of physical media has fallen off a table during the last five years. Citing decreased sales at big box stores like Best Buy (not that they care about anything but selling big ticket items anymore) the numbers show that consumer spending has dropped from $10.3 billion in 2014 to $5.8 billion in 2018. Overall consumer spending, however, increased due to investments in streaming services like Netflix and Hulu. (Subscribe to the Criterion Channel, btw.)

niche blu-ray distributors

For the time being, however, studios are still releasing physical media and niche distributors like Kino (I highlighted the Kino Studio Classics line a couple years ago), Twilight Time, Arrow, Criterion are still pumping out discs. Prognosticators have been predicting the demise of DVD for years, but many of us are still on the front lines of this war, attempting to ensure that we’re allowed to own movies, in our home, for the foreseeable future. And that idea of ownership is going to become a crucial part of this new digital future.

If Disney attempts to force everything it owns onto this streaming service, logically they’re going to want to restrict repeat home viewership outside this paywall. If the only way to see these films is through a streaming platform, its in their best interest to make sure that you’re reliant upon this service to view your favorite Disney (and Fox films). Why would they go through the trouble of marketing and releasing a physical disc when they can curate a captive audience already mindlessly flipping through options for the next piece of digital chaff. The allure of pushing a button and queuing up unlimited entertainment sounds wonderful. The history of film at your fingertips! But that will never, ever, ever, ever be the case and it’s time that we, as a film community, broadcast the inherent fallacy of “everything available all the time” to the widest possible audience.

Planet of the Apes
Planet of the Apes, also coincidentally a 20th Century Fox property.

The Future of Ownership

While many celebrate these developments, I can’t help but equate the ultimate outcome of the streaming war with the ending of Planet of the Apes when Charlton Heston storms the beach, spots the sunken Statue of Liberty and recognizes that humanity has destroyed itself. Embracing this streaming future also means you no longer own anything. Disney and all the other potential streaming platforms want you to pay in perpetuity for the right to view these movies – movies we once owned on Betamax, VHS, CED, Laserdisc, DVD, Blu-ray, 4K and viewed for free whenever the hell we wanted.

What is a lover of all movies to do about this? Classic film has already been rendered a second class citizen. Netflix, for example, has dispatched most movies on its service made before 2010 in favor of its own original programming — some of which has pushed TV into new and inspired directions. That said, this generation that relies on streaming for 99% of its viewing will just not watch classic film because it’s not available at the touch of a button.

Buying physical copies of movies has become conscientious objection. Every time we buy a Blu-ray we’re making a statement that physical media matters, that owning and curating a collection of movies matter. It’s an interesting development, really, considering that only a little more than 30 years ago people thought they’d won the jackpot by being able to buy Top Gun on VHS for $14.95. What’s really happening is that studios have found a way to put that genie back in the bottle. They want to regain control over their properties – something they lost when they opened up their libraries and found themselves surprised that consumers actually wanted to own the movies they’d deemed largely without value. They proceeded to inefficiently milk that home video teet for decades as they fought format wars, modified movies “to fit your screen,” and released the same films over and over and over again while other wonderful properties gathered dust (but that’s a complaint for an entirely different tirade).

top gun vhs
Sorry, Disney. Maverick’s gives his flybys to Paramount.

Many of us have come to the conclusion that we should purchase 20th Century Fox catalog titles while we still can. For example, the aforementioned niche distributor Twilight Time has had a long relationship with Fox – releasing dozens of titles on Blu-ray that have never otherwise seen the light of day. It’s no stretch of the imagination to assume that the tide of titles supplied to them will soon run dry (if it hasn’t already) as Disney gathers up its belongings and refuses to let anyone else play with them. Twilight Time wooed studios with their business model of releasing only 3,000 units of any title supplied to them, after which distribution reverted back to the original company. The cap on the number of units made wary studios a little more comfortable about loaning out their properties. Listen to the Pure Cinema Podcast episode focusing on Twilight Time for a more in-depth conversation about the label.

Buy 20th Century Fox Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

Twilight Time has just started a big sale during the month of September with many of its 20th Century Fox titles included. (I’ll highlight a number of recommended titles in a future post.) We should all be worried that these more obscure catalog titles will disappear forever once the 3,000 discs produced by Twilight Time have been sold. For a company as large as Disney, it would be wasted dollars bringing these to their streaming service since the financial gain from these films would be immaterial. If you want them, buy them now. You’ll regret it when they’re gone for good.

My Twilight Time shelfie.

It’s important to note that we don’t know any of this for sure – but we don’t *know* largely in the same way that we don’t know that it will necessarily be sunny in Los Angeles at some point next month. We’re staring at the future and it’s okay to want to be a part of it, but if you’re not also making sure that you’re gathering your essentials for the coming upheaval of man by a faction of hyper-intellectual apes, you also can’t say you didn’t see this coming.

Also, it should be noted that supporting physical media and allowing streaming services to supplement your viewing regimen is not sleeping with the enemy. You’re also not a heathen for choosing either side of the divide. I know many people who just don’t care — who think that whatever entertainment pops up on Netflix or Amazon Prime is good enough. I — like many of you — don’t want just “good enough.” I want access to all of the movies I love — and the potential to view all the movies I’ve yet to experience. We should all want this.

Categories
Cinema Double Features

Double Feature Theater: 4 More Mismatched 1990s

The official first part of my “Unorthodox 1990s Double Feature” list will appear on the Netflix DVD blog sometime this month. That list features, obviously, pairs of movies that are both available to rent through the Netflix DVD service. This list features the misshapen double features that could not be included on that list because either one or both films were unavailable for rent. It goes without saying that I find value in each movie individually — but in some instances (see: Encino Man) I believe the juxtaposition enhances a film by bringing in new ideas that might not have otherwise been present (or necessarily intentional).

Time for an obligatory and perhaps superfluous introduction to the double feature.

A merely adequate double bill keeps you awake and engaged, whereas the best double feature bills create opposing and complementary forces that allow for a dialogue between films. In his New York Times feature, “In Praise of the Double Feature,” J. Hoberman states “the double feature created the art of programming.” Home moviewatchers fancy themselves festival programmers every time they plan a multi-movie lineup or invite friends over for a marathon. Picking any two random movies from your shelf requires no nuance or consideration. That’s not programming. Good doubles (or triples!) hold our interest throughout and leave us wanting more – no matter how much movie we endure. But what’s the difference between adequacy and excellence? 

While there’s scholastic value in comparing The Thing From Another World (1951) and John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), for example, it requires no creative matchmaking to associate an original with its remake. Likewise, it’s not viewer-friendly to program tonal stasis. Since we’ve made the 1990s the topic at hand, consider the following coupling: Malice (1993) and Pacific Heights (1992) – dark, effective 90’s thrillers with similar narrative backbones. Monotony sets in after more than three hours of income properties gone horribly wrong. The juxtaposition of seemingly disparate films, however, teaches us something about how we watch movies. The greatest doubles allow viewers to discover new threads of connectivity that might not have been otherwise apparent.

For the sake of conversation, I’ve come up pairs of films from the 1990s that might seem incompatible. These movies are curious yins to misshapen yangs. Some connections will be more obvious, while others might benefit from – dare I say – discussion with other humans. Don’t just take my word for it – look to find your own mysterious connections and plan some of your own double features. 

As I brainstormed dysfunctional 1990s doubles my list grew to voluminous proportions (24 and counting!). I’ve presented four suggestions here (with more to follow on this bl-g and Netflix DVD’s Inside the Envelope) – and I’ll share the B-sides in the near future. In the meantime, Tweet me your bizarro double features from the 1990s at @007hertrumble.com. Let’s start a revolution.

 

double feature kuffs gridlock'd

Kuffs (Bruce A. Evans, 1992) & Gridlock’d (Vondie Curtis-Hall, 1997)  

Class, Privilege and Self-awareness Double

This duo of underseen and underappreciated 1990’s comedies traffic in the same brand of knowing artifice. Early 90s Christian Slater oozes charm even as the film backslides into Ferris Bueller in Beverly Hills Cop. The feather-lite Kuffs might make you feel guilty for enjoying every second of its genre regurgitation, but winks and nods ameliorate its sins.

The flipside of Kuffs could very well be Vondie Curtis-Hall’s debut feature, Gridlock’d, starring Tim Roth and Tupac Shakur. Released four months after Shakur’s death, Gridlock’d showcases the best of his burgeoning on-screen talent. Alongside Roth’s manic comedy, Shakur anchors the film’s gritty depiction of two heroine addicts trying to get clean, in spite of bureaucratic apathy preventing them from entering a rehabilitation program. It’s funny, savagely political and occasionally heartbreaking. Look at the pair of films with that tricky subject of class and privilege in mind — but also how each uses tone and pacing to propel narrative.

 

double feature spice world fear of a black hat

Spice World (Bob Spiers, 1997) & Fear of a Black Hat (Rusty Cundieff, 1994)

The Evolution of A Hard Day’s Night… Double

Here’s the thing. If you look at Spice World as the Spice Girls imploding the concept of the Spice Girls from the inside so that only people who don’t like the Spice Girls get the joke, this movie is GENIUS. From our holy thrones of 2019 we condemn Spice World as a movie that shouldn’t have been made about a girl group that shouldn’t have existed and was born from an artificial pop-culture landscape we pretend doesn’t still exist. But it was, and in 1997 it made all kinds of sense.

Rusty Cundieff’s This Is Spinal Tap for the first decade of rap provides the perfect counterbalance. Fear of a Black Hat lovingly mocks the genres conventions while Spice World… well…. as I said, might have been made as a subversive attempt to end the madness. I’m not going to tell you how to feel about the former (I love it), but I can only suggest that this pairing amplifies the singularity of both experiences.

double feature encino man zero effect

Encino Man (Les Mayfield, 1992) & Zero Effect (Jake Kasdan, 1998)

The Shapes of Shepherds Double

Pauly Shore plays a modern Virgil, ushering Brendan Fraser’s born-again caveman through the nine layers of hell California. (I’ve just been informed that now that I’ve compared Encino Man to Dante’s Inferno I’m being forced into early bl-gger retirement. I’m told it’s for the good of everyone.) I think it’s time to redeem the affable but incredibly insipid comedy from the trash heap of 1990s cinema. Ouuuuoooooooooooo, buddy — lest we forget the film became a $40 million success at the box office (on a $7 million budget) and spawned beautifully inarticulate catchphrases like “If you’re edged cuz I’m wheezin’ all your grindage, just chill.”

By placing it alongside the forever underseen caper comedy Zero Effect (a movie I plug ad nauseam), I’m hoping to highlight the tradition of “the shepherd” and its many forms. Ben Stiller plays Steve Arlo, stressed out assistant to the unbearably eccentric detective/songwriter/social misfit Daryl Zero (a delightful Bill Pullman). Consider the ways in which each supports (and endures) their Cro-Magnon protagonists and how this tradition also extends to the literary/cinematic legacies of Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Expand the bounds of this challenge to include the Holmes riff Without a Clue (1988) for a cracking triple feature.

double feature party girl cool as ice

Party Girl (Daisy von Scherler Mayer, 1995) & Cool As Ice (David Kellogg, 1991) 

The Manic Charms of 1990s “It” Persons Double

When I first conceived this pairing, I dismissed it as madness. Would anyone else see the mainline connections between Vanilla Ice’s so-bad-its-still-bad-but-wildly-entertaining disasterfest and Parker Posey’s coming-out party as the 1990’s indie It Girl? Nevertheless, the thought of attending this pairing with a eager crowd stuck with me. Bold personalities in uniquely 90s films that don’t necessarily work as narrative. Party Girl’s pastiche of dialogue-laden character sketches serves to highlight Posey’s Holly Go-Lightly via Denise Huxtable librarian. She’s a free spirit, throwing parties and creating her own fantastical existence.

Speaking of “fantastical existence,” let’s talk about the big screen debut of Robert Van Winkle, aka Vanilla Ice. No more than a year separated the release of the hit single “Ice Ice Baby” and Cool As Ice — and yet the artist, who fancied himself a legitimate rapper, had already become a punchline, ridiculed by peers and scorned by the same public that made him an ironic instant success. A cornball mixture of The Wild One, the David Lee Roth aesthetic, and low-budget thriller — but most viably Cool As Ice showcases Robert Van Winkle’s charisma and misguided, workmanlike devotion to the Ice persona.

 

Tune in to the next Double Feature Theater… when in the same sentence I’ll champion Neil LaBute and the Wachowskis!

Categories
1980's Flashback Cinema

1989 Flashback: Sea of Love

Helen: I always like to think I live for love. What else is there? Food?

Sea of Love (1989)

At some point during my ongoing #Watch1989 marathon, I polled Twitter for some suggestions. I received many wonderful ideas  — one, however, stood out due to the presentation. I wish I’d taken better notes so I could give specific credit to those who stepped forward and whispered Sea of Love, like it was a dirty, dirty, oh so dirty little secret.

I’d always been conscious of Sea of Love without knowing much about it. Al Pacino. Ellen Barkin. I could also describe the poster. Pacino pointing his gun forward like he’d been startled by the sudden arrival of a wayward James Bond gun barrel. As he turns to seize his moment, he realizes he’d mistaken the gun barrel for the space between necks of almost smooching silhouettes. Then his gun jams, and he just makes “pew pew” sounds to salvage the moment. This is where I show you exactly how all of this plays out on a two-dimensional poster. Zoom in on the look on his face. I nailed it.

It wasn’t the actual recommendation that teased me. It was the guilt behind the recommendation. I’d seen that guilt before in the eyes of moviewatchers with whom I’ve discussed the secret pleasures of Jade (1995). I queued up Sea of Love on Netflix DVD and awaited sexy times in my mailbox starring Al Pacino and perhaps the most captivating and least appreciated actress of the era, Ellen Barkin.

sea of love netflix dvd

How Sea of Love slipped through the cracks

Released the week before Ridley Scott’s Black Rain, the two prowled the same adult-thriller audience. Both succeeded moderately, but neither left a lasting impression.

I rented Black Rain as soon as it hit video. Black Rain popped up as a rainy day movie at baseball camp. Someone gave me a Black Rain DVD. Naturally, I picked up the Blu-ray. I wasn’t Black Rain obsessed, but it was as if Black Rain was obsessed with me. Michael Douglas and his dead-eyed gaze watching from behind the bushes in my backyard. Meanwhile, Sea of Love just seemed like a lukewarm trifle, a jilted lover, the movie that lost out to the more aggressive suitor.

Based on trailers for the film, Sea of Love just looked like every other barely scandalous Hollywood thriller. For comparison’s sake, let’s watch the trailers for both Black Rain and Sea of Love. You tell me which one you’d rather watch just based on the trailer.

Sea of Love:

Black Rain:

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Some of you probably picked Sea of Love. Congratulations on your ability to see through ham-fisted September studio marketing.  Neon veins coursing through a dark and gritty Tokyo in the Black Rain trailer made me a believer. It might sound like I’m suddenly anti-Black Rain. I enjoy the movie for what it is, but those slightly guilty suggestions that brought Sea of Love to my attention understood something about the film — even if they didn’t articulate it in words.

sea of love

The Appeal of Mainstream Sexy Times

Based on a screenplay by novelist Richard Price (The Color of Money), Sea of Love marks Al Pacino’s first film in four years after the disasterfest that was Revolution (1985). Despite solid scripting, plotting, and entertaining performances from Pacino and vampy Ellen Barkin, fans are often hesitant to admit their affection, like the film belongs to some kind of cultish and unsavory underbelly of mainstream cinema.

Becker’s serial-killer thriller knowingly plays with Film Noir conventions and conscripts them into a thoroughly modern genre film that also touches on existential loneliness and mid-life crises. John Goodman co-stars as Pacino’s investigative partner and provides some welcome comic relief. It might feel like a guilty pleasure, but Sea of Love joins a storied tradition of steamy 1980s R-rated potboilers born out of the subtext and embers of Film Noir.

There’s a major difference, however, between Sea of Love and something like Body Heat. Body Heat, for all its deliciously sweaty double-crossing (and Ted Danson) wears its Noir convention as proudly as Noel Coward wore ascots. Price’s script dares to transplant and update the formula to foreground modern anxieties and uniquely late-20th-century ennui.

Al Pacino’s Frank Keller appears on screen already in the middle of an existential midlife crisis. The killer finds his/her prey through the singles ads in the paper. While the technology of finding love through a print publication dates the film, the mechanics behind the narrative device easily translate to online dating. Looking for love while simultaneously hunting a killer provides a powerful playground for emotional fragility and cocksure swagger from both leads. Al Pacino’s not the only scene hungry thespian in this movie (and I’m not referencing Sam Jackson’s boisterous 20-second appearance).

The Ellen Barkin Factor

Like Walter Neff in Double Indemnity (and scores of other classic Noir), at once obsessed with cash money and Barbara Stanwyck’s legs, Frank’s blinded by his desire for connection, for this intervention into his ordinary New York life. Midway between greenhorn and retirement. Divorced. Lonely. Not only is his police detective fallible, but he’s often downright unlikable. He wallows, drinks, picks fights with Richard Jenkins, and makes late-night phone calls to his ex-wife seeking emotional affirmation.

In one of his last pre-Scent of a Woman roles, Pacino contains the eruptions that plague many of his later performances. He’s terrific, but like Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity, Sea of Love hinges entirely on the guile of its female lead. The viewer must see what Frank sees in Ellen Barkin’s Helen — a potentially deadly femme fatale with the power to heal a mid-life crisis with a torrid affair. It’s not just that she’s sex in designer heels, she also has to be a grounded single mother and career woman. We have to expect her guilt and hope for her innocence.

ellen barkin sea of love

If you doubt the power of prime Ellen Barkin, pair Sea of Love with Mary Lambert’s unfairly maligned Siesta (1987) — only available on a region-free Italian release. While Kathleen Turner received higher profile roles in better movies, Ellen Barkin toiled on the fringe of superstardom. It’s unfortunate that many of Barkin’s films just didn’t deserve her.

Al Pacino gets the clammy, “Who Me?” spotlight on the poster, but Ellen Barkin sells this movie. Ellen Barkin is sex and fragility; she’s a dominatrix living with her mother and doing her best to exist in a cinematic world that doesn’t know how to put a label on her.

Sea of Love Verdict

Harold Becker made a few standout films in his career (Malice and The Black Marble, for example), so the “discovery” that Sea of Love proved to be a competent and knowing manipulation of the genre shouldn’t have been entirely unexpected.

The way Price’s script inserts elements of the romantic comedy into a drama about an apparent serial killer makes for a movie that constantly puts he viewer on uneasy territory… until it lets everyone off the hook in the final moments. I’ve read nothing about the production, but I’ve seen enough of these “movie things” to recognize the telltale signs of studio intervention. Between an atonal final scene to an easy-bake ending, Sea of Love does all the heavy lifting but lacks the conviction to follow through on the promise of something more daring, something that would have catapulted the film into genre royalty.

Don’t let any of that dissuade you. Despite last-minute whodunnit stumbles, the Sea of Love serves up a delicious dish. It’s sexy, but not scandalous. Tense with a side of nail-biting and naturally funny when it needs to break tension. I just wish it had dared to be great instead of aiming for a higher test-screening CinemaScore.

As one of the biggest surprises of my #Watch1989 series, I’ll point you in the direction of the other surprising pleasure for a wild double feature. It’s not a perfect pairing, but I wouldn’t mind indulging in fun the double of Sea of Love and Gleaming the Cube. Give it a chance. You’ll come around.

Sea of Love is available on a budget double-feature with Scent of a Woman and in single-disc edition.

SEA OF LOVE, from left: Ellen Barkin, Al Pacino, 1989, © Universal

James David Patrick is a writer. He’s written just about everything at some point or another. Add whatever this is to that list. Follow his blog at www.thirtyhertzrumble.com and find him on TwitterInstagram, and Facebook.