Dinosaurs running amok are the focus of summer’s biggest blockbuster, and the center of the movie industry. In director Colin Trevorrow’s “Jurassic World,” a corporate-backed theme park markets genetic copies of fossils, most notably the man-eating hybrid monster Indominus rex.
Similar recycled relics in movie form are the main attraction of Hollywood these days - bringing old franchises back in pursuit of audience eyeballs and profit. Early in “Jurassic World,” a business-minded park manager played by Bryce Dallas Howard explains its giant hybrids: “No one’s impressed by a dinosaur anymore,” she says with a shrug. “Consumers want them bigger, louder, more teeth.”
It could be a marketing pitch from a studio exec selling any tentpole blockbuster. Big-tooth sequels, prequels, remakes and adaptations of “Fast and Furious,” “Terminator” and “Mission: Impossible” are battling for box office supremacy. And eating every puny independent film - the heart, soul and Oscar-nominated brains of the art form - for lunch.
That’s a case of Hollywood velociraptors devouring the golden goose of creativity.
Jesse Bishop, programming director of the Film Society of Minneapolis-St. Paul, put it this way: “Independent cinema is where artistic vision can flourish, buck the status quo, and where moviegoers can experience new ideas and perspectives. The contributions made by the indie film community deserve recognition and to be seen.”
In the face of dino domination, that sentiment is being echoed loudly across today’s indie landscape.
“We’re very lucky to live in a country that allows you to make whatever movie you want,” said Lisa Bunnell, head film buyer and vice president of film for Landmark Theatres, the nation’s largest art-house chain. “So let’s help people see everything. I like to go out and help some of these indies that might not have a chance to release a film in a really tough marketplace.”
It wasn’t always this challenging. Across their decades-long run, indies have been a synonym for a vibrant style of nonconformist American cinema. They kick-started the careers of untested young guns including James Cameron, Quentin Tarantino, Spike Lee, George Lucas, Joel and Ethan Coen, and Steven Soderbergh.
The Motion Picture Academy is taking note: In 2009, it began giving indies high Oscar attention. The voters, representing a dozen branches including actors, directors, writers and more, stretched the roll of best picture nominees from five to as many as 10. Recent winners “Birdman,” “12 Years a Slave” and “The Hurt Locker” beat big-budget fare. The academy now virtually restricts its best picture nominees to non-studio entries. Of the eight films nominated for this year’s top Oscar, only megahit “American Sniper” cost more than $20 million to produce. The rest were niche items, the very films that studios - and audiences - marginalize the rest of the year.
While studio films typically rule the top of the box office, most indies scrape the bottom, swirling through theaters for a week or two, then dropping to video-on-demand obscurity. And that’s for the lucky few with theatrical distributors. As Internet delivery upends old channels of film screening and attendance in North America declines, most Sundance films leave the festival without a buyer.
“There’s nothing wrong with studio fare, but it’s also nice to have options,” Bunnell said. With 50 theaters across the country, Landmark is still a minor-league player in the field. “It’s hard because you’ve got the big three” of theater companies, “AMC, Cinemark and Regal (that) control programming in the majority of the country.”
Bunnell began her career with Loews Cineplex Entertainment, a New York-based chain mixing art and commercial films across 2,300 screens. “We always had a heavy art presence; it was something we took a lot of pride in.” When AMC bought Loews in 2005, “they kind of destroyed them.”
Originally, the indie culture was conceived as an antidote to mainstream Hollywood. Film curator Sheryl Mousley of Walker Art Center in Minneapolis said: “It was important when it started, back about 30 years ago. You’d think of independent filmmakers as the leaders who would tell new stories, something really fresh that knocks us over and opens our eyes. The independent movement was truly a separation from the industry.
“Now there are blurring lines of all that, economic shifts of who’s distributing. And if the filmmaker is encumbered by the voice of someone in the studio or producers saying you’re not allowed to tell the story you want to tell, I don’t think you’re independent.”
It could be that streaming television will save the day for embattled independents, like the cavalry arriving at a western’s 11th hour. Ted Hope, for decades a vocal advocate of independent films and producer of ambitious fare such as “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” now leads creative development for Amazon Original Movies. The service aims to produce a dozen movies each year, indie-style projects with modest budgets. The plan is to win theatrical release for the films, then share them on Amazon Prime Instant Video a quick four to eight weeks after their big-screen debut. At a time when studio films are ever more predictable and generic, Hope sees tremendous value in indie programming beyond award season prestige and low cost.
“To me, the real kicker is the power of cinema,” he said. “We love movies because they change our lives. Because they speak to us about stuff that’s unspoken. They help us articulate what matters to us.
“And yet you’re not going to get that from the studio content,” he said. “Films help us discover who we really are, how we’re connected to different folks who don’t share our same experiences. Basically what indie cinema does is make the world a better place. That’s really the upshot of it all.”
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