Debbie Reynolds and Gene Kelly in "Singin' in the Rain."

Last night I had a conversation with a couple of Hollywood screenwriters about the effect 3D will have on the industry. After some healthy discourse, we all arrived at the conclusion that not only is 3D detrimental to the quality of movies, it is even worse for screenwriters. As hard as it is to get a spec paid attention to around this town, it will be even harder for writers to adapt to what I will call the increasing “productification” of forthcoming blockbusters. No longer are scripts going to be the sturdy foundation for most movies. Rather it seems their purpose may be diminished to something less than even a blueprint. For all we know, 3D scripts of the future (and scarily today) may just be notes scribbled down on a notepad–only to later be doctored by writers-for-hire.

You know who else this is bad for? Movie-goers! Can you believe it? As if paying for a movie and popcorn wasn’t already taking its toll. Exhibitors raised the price of admission for Dreamworks’ How to Train Your Dragon by 8%! How much is too much? Well they’re about to find out. If you go out with your family to see a 3D film you will more than likely be spending over $100. In some cases, that’s more money than it would cost to go out to see a Major League baseball team play. But can we blame them? No, not really. After all, last year was probably the most profitable year for American movies ever. Now the people responsible for filling the wallets of so many people have to start being both stingy and picky. Won’t be long before execs start scrambling to recover their losses on DVD sales.

What is fundamentally alarming about the industry’s rapid adjustment to 3D is the fact that many of the movies that are being released in 3D were never even shot in 3D. So essentially you are paying for a product that is not quite what it’s advertised to be. You end up paying about six to eight dollars more just to experience the post-production tinkering on a movie that was never meant to be experienced in 3D. That’s like if an ice-cream vendor runs out of chocolate ice-cream and douses vanilla ice-cream in brown food coloring with the intention to sell it. It’s just not the same.

Films which need to be converted into 3D after-the-fact wind up costing production companies around $100,000 per on-screen minute. Avatar is the exception to this since James Cameron chose to integrate the 3D technology prior to shooting. Cynical towards the industry’s knee-jerk reaction of more 2D films being retrofitted after the game-changing success of his own film, Cameron remarks, “After Toy Story, there were 10 really bad CG movies because everybody thought the success of that film was CG and not great characters that were beautifully designed and heartwarming.” Sounds like Cameron is starting to feel like Oppenheimer (after he created the atomic bomb).

James Cameron is starting to suspect that shooting Avatar in 3D may have set a terrible industry precedent.

So who else should be worried about 3D? You guessed it. Directors. There seems to be a great deal of concern that studio execs are going to be making the crucial decision on behalf of directors when it comes to the 3D question.  In lieu of the prospect of Transformers 3 undergoing a 3D transformation, the infamous Michael Bay has even taken a purist’s approach:

“This conversion process is always going to be inferior to shooting in real 3D. Studios might be willing to sacrifice the look and use the gimmick to make $3 more a ticket, but I’m not.  Avatar took four years. You can’t just shit out a 3D movie.”

So if James Cameron and Michael Bay aren’t quite sold on 3D, will anyone pay attention? Will they even have a say five years from now? Only time will tell. In the meantime, it’s important to consider who else the 3D boom is going to affect (or sink). Independent filmmakers.

How will the indie market adapt? Tough to say. Hard to believe we’ll be seeing a 3D version of Precious anytime soon–though the way things are going such a preposterous hypothetical may certainly become a reality. While some may contend that indies can benefit from being the cheaper alternative, I fear that they may be considered second-class films.

It’s wrong to dismiss 3D as just “a phase” or even as an evil. There are tremendous possibilities to be found through 3D. But as it stands now, 3D is proving itself to be a monstrous threat to both filmmakers and the medium of film. It’s time for more traditionalist visionaries to stand up and denounce the current direction of 3D. James Cameron sought to enhance film through 3D. And now he’s fighting to stop 3D from ruining it.

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for  The Film Crusade and Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.

In a Nutshell…

After emerging as the victor of the VHS/Betamax format war of the mid-70’s, VHS tapes revolutionized the entertainment industry from top to bottom. A myriad of newly resurrected films could now be easily accessed, viewed at leisure, and most importantly, preserved. Surviving the debuts of various other formats, including the infamous Laserdisc bomb of the 80’s, VHS dominated home entertainment until the DVD was introduced in the 90’s. If VHS was the reefer of home entertainment, then DVD was the crack-cocaine. It revolutionized movie watching even further, offering better clarity, sound and video options like subtitles and language tracks, and a variety of other goodies such as trailers, behind-the-scenes featurettes, and audio commentary tracks. In the past couple of years we’ve witnessed the advent of a new generation: Blu-ray (the victor of yet another format war, beating out HD DVDs in early 2008), which currently stands as the capstone of home entertainment.

Anyone with a 72-inch 1080p television with a surround sound system and Blu-ray player will tell you that when it comes home entertainment, there really isn’t much more that needs to be improved. But technology doesn’t just stand still. The next bigger-and-better thing eventually comes around (digital downloads may already be making discs obsolete).

So where do we go from here?

Phase One: 3-D

The logical next step for home entertainment is in fact currently being developed by media companies. Although 3-D film technology was adapted even before its initial boom in the 1950’s, its popularity has since ebbed and flowed, never really gaining a firm grip with the moviegoing public. But with the evolution of CGI at last approaching its pinnacle (or so it seems, at least), and confirmed by the unprecedented success of James Cameron’s 3-D Avatar, it certainly appears that this time around, the technology is here to stay. Time to Consummation: 3-5 years.

In John Carpenter's "They Live," Roddy Piper is able to see subliminal messages created by an alien-run government whenever he puts on special sunglasses.

Phase Two: Choose-Your-Own-Adventure

You know those books where you get to choose what the characters do at the end of the page? Imagine that concept applied to films. You’re watching Saw 23. Jigsaw’s latest captive is hobbling through a labyrinthine warehouse armed with a meat cleaver and comes upon a bleeding man – a known antagonist – chained to a water heater about to burst and crying out for help, when suddenly the screen freezes and a menu pops up with three choices: 1) try to free the man, 2) get out of there and let him boil, 3) hack him to bloody pulp with the meat cleaver. This would be a nightmare for filmmakers, who would have to shoot several times more footage than usual, and cinema purists might complain that it compromises the integrity of storytelling. But this new media form allows for a lot of fun new possibilities. The concept could be expanded to create video game/movie hybrids (many video games already feature extensive cinematic sequences, and a few, such as Enter the Matrix, even incorporate live-action scenes shot specifically for the game). Small indications of this technology have already surfaced on DVDs, with multi-angle features, alternate endings, etc. Time to Consummation: 15-20 years.

Phase Three: 4-D… and Beyond

Where do you go from 3-D? Really, how much more do we need to be immersed in the world of a film? Well, you know, people have other senses besides vision and hearing. Imagine… When the Tyrannosaurus Rex first approaches the idle vehicles in Jurassic Park, the ground literally shakes. When the Doomsday device is activated at the end of Dr. Strangelove, a wave of heat washes over your body. When the cowboys around the campfire toot bean-music out of their asses in Blazing Saddles… well, you get the idea. Some theme parks already have theater-style attractions with little quirks like these. Jerking seats when there is a tumult, a spray of mist when someone sneezes… Retrofitting theaters for this kind of mass sensory-immersion would be daunting, but feasible. And the creative possibilities are virtually endless. However, applying this kind of technology to consumer home theater systems is, at this point, rather outlandish. The most likely result if this ever comes to fruition would be a customized La-Z-Boy recliner that wirelessly syncs to your TV/media player and perform various sensory functions on cue, based on whatever film you may be watching. Don’t look for this to be available any time soon. Time to Consummation: 30-35 years.

Phase Four: Full Immersion

At this point, we’re pretty much in the Matrix. Virtual reality to the nth degree. There is little noticeable difference between the real world and the entertainment world. Life doesn’t imitate art or vice-versa because they are literally one and the same. Time to Consummation: 100+ years.

This is just some food for thought. Please post any other ideas of what you think the future of home entertainment might have in store.

Zach Copeland is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade.

So much of Avatar really works. Everyone’s talking about the 3D and the green screen effects, but maybe the most notable accomplishment is the art direction. The film is set on the planet of Pandora, which is a lush, beautiful world, creatively imagined. It’s one of those places that make you want to be there. So much modern sci-fi fails in creating its locale, but it’s here that Avatar succeeds. Cameron created new species of flora and fauna, and even a language for the indigenous Na’vi people. It’s a complete, cohesive whole, and looks new enough to get our imaginations churning.

But let’s not forget that Star Wars has the same massive scope in a completely realized new world. For every Thanator there’s a Wampa, for every Banshee there’s a Bantha. And like a new language was created for the Na’vi, languages were created for Greedo, Jabba the Hutt, and various peripheral characters. In both films we accept the entirely new world and the history and biology that lies behind it. But Star Wars may have a slight edge. In Lucas’ films, the details of the alien world seem weaved into the story with less effort. We accept them because the characters accept them nonchalantly, and the sense of a world that has always been this way pulls us in deeper. Cameron introduces every new detail of Avatar almost as an event. Practically every creature of Pandora has an entrance “showcase,” as if to say “here’s this amazing new creature, have you ever seen anything like it?”

That’s not to say that they don’t look amazing, almost always more breathtaking than the creatures of Star Wars (30 years of technology makes a BIG difference). But the things that inhabit the many planets of the Star Wars universe are treated so naturally that they give the world a richer life. Besides that, the scope of Star Wars exceeds that of Avatar ten-fold, covering countless alien species and taking place on no less than seven different planets (in the original trilogy). That’s in no way a criticism of Avatar, but just helps us keep in mind that its attention to detail isn’t “unprecedented,” as many critics would suggest.

Possibly the most obvious similarity between the two is that like Star Wars, Cameron touts Avatar as a game-changer in terms of special effects. The special effects are indeed fantastic; there’s no question that it’s beautiful to watch. Still, this is difficult ground on which to compare the two movies. Both really wowed audiences, but it’s almost impossible to make any quantitative judgment about which movie caused bigger changes, especially since Star Wars is thirty years old and Avatar is hardly thirty days old.

Here’s one thing I can say. If Avatar launches a universal shift to 3D films, that’s huge. It certainly does use the 3D technology expertly. Instead of a gimmick, it’s introduced without presumption. There’s no question that it immerses the viewer more and makes the battle scenes more exciting. If 2D to 3D is the new silent to sound, or black and white to color, then Avatar will have earned titan status in the annals of film. But it’s honestly much too early to say if that’s the case.

While the two films may be neck and neck in terms of mythology and spectacle, there’s more of a gap when it comes to possibly the most important element – the story. Avatar’s script is good; it’s not just a gimmicky set-up for the effects, it keeps us interested and it values its characters. But it can’t compare with the story of Star Wars. First of all, the characters of Avatar have far less in terms of motivation. Besides industrialist Selfridge’s (Giovanni Ribisi) brief moment of hesitation before sending in troops to destroy the Na’vi’s “Home Tree,” the evil characters of Avatar are completely one-dimensional. While Col. Quaritch (Stephen Lang) is pretty bad-ass, he’s only a stiff caricature of a man. He is motivated it seems purely by an unsubstantiated bloodlust.

Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) has a lot of potential as a character – the fact that he’s a paraplegic finally able to walk in his avatar body is very interesting, but it’s hardly dealt with. We spend most of the time with his fight to help the Na’vi save their world from pillaging miners (meant to represent American energy companies). But does he have enough of a reason to turn against his people? This is where the commitment to the eco-message hurts Avatar’s story. A good story has to put its stake in something the viewers care about. The themes that will make people respond the most are the ones that appeal to some innate sense in humanity. While it may be a valiant cause, creating a “green” world isn’t a universal goal.

The message of protecting the environment is a relatively new one, and almost completely distinct to Western society. Avatar bases its entire ethos in this message. Star Wars, on the other hand, has much more relatable goals and ideas. Luke Skywalker is searching for his identity; finding your place in the world is something that all men can identify with. Besides this, he is fighting against an “evil empire” which intends to enslave and destroy other worlds. The stakes here are universal – the empire brings death, the rebellion brings life.

While Star Wars calls for a literally “universal” freedom from oppression, Avatar calls for a specific code of ethics, and shames all those who disagree. It does worse than shame them, it paints them as pure evil. But that’s necessary for the story to work. Cameron must make his villains this evil in order to get us to side with Jake and the Na’vi. If we’re left with simply resource conservation as their goal, it’s not enough to make us care about their plight. If the Na’vi are juxtaposed with utterly terrible characters, it’s a lot easier to side with them. Cameron himself realizes that even then the eco-message isn’t enough, which is why we learn that all living things on Pandora are linked both in spirit and in the biology of the world. Of course, this again hurts the message, because only the most extreme of environmentalists believe this is the case with our earth.

Add to this the fact that Star Wars gives us more diversity in terms of character goals. Avatar’s supporting characters have goals that are merely peripheral to those of Jake Sully. The good guys want what he wants, the bad guys want the opposite. But in Star Wars we find many characters on the same team with different goals. Princess Leia wants to save her people. Han Solo starts as a mercenary who just wants make a buck, but is begrudgingly drawn in by the undeniable necessity of the rebellion. Darth Vader, on the other side of the spectrum, serves the “dark side” because of the power it brings him. The complexities of the ethics of Star Wars far outshine those in Avatar (odd that a movie condemned as “preachy” could be so weak when it comes to an ethical groundwork). Darth Vader does what he does because he serves a clear “evil.” Quaritch and Selfridge seem evil for the sake of being evil.

I hate to sound this negative about Avatar, because I really did enjoy the movie. If in reading this you feel like panning the film, don’t. It’s absolutely one to see, and you will most likely have a great time. The only reason I come out on the negative side is because I think that when you compare it to a film like Star Wars, you see its flaws more clearly. There’s a reason Star Wars has stood as a favorite for all ages for thirty years. Only time will tell if Avatar will stand beside it in the history books.

Josh Long is a contributing writer for The Film Crusade.

The 1994 film Hoop Dreams is the product of uncompromising persistence and hard work from a very small group of people who made the success of the project possible. Directed by Steve James and Produced/Photographed by Peter Gilbert originally as a 30 minute segment for PBS, the cinema verite docu-drama turned into much more than the filmmakers had hoped for. The concept of the film which involves following two inner-city basketball players who hope to one day play in the N.B.A. was supported by a social documentary organization established in 1966 called Kartemquin, which produces films that follow and examine real people to serve as critical social commentary. Funding for the film came from the National Endowment for the Arts and PBS in the amount of just five thousand dollars. Over 250 hours of footage resulted and the filmmakers scrambled in the editing room to piece together a story for their main characters, William Gates and Arthur Agee.

The result: Hoop Dreams was nominated for an Oscar in the “Best Editing” category beside Pulp Fiction, Forrest Gump, The Shawshank Redemption, and Speed. It stirred controversy from critics who were surprised that the film was excluded from the “Best Documentary” and “Best Picture” categories.

Peter Gilbert lectures about social documentaries to the American University School of Communication.

I was able to catch up with Peter Gilbert at an event hosted by American University, a D.C. school with a reputation for embracing documentary filmmaking. The cinematographer and producer himself candidly discussed the challenges involved in creating Hoop Dreams.

CW: At which point during Hoop Dreams did you, Steve, and Fred realize that you were going to  have something more than a short segment that people would see on PBS? When did you think it could be commercial…and that you would pursue a theatrical release?

PETER GILBERT: Never.

CW: Never?

PETER GILBERT: I can tell you that when Fred and Steve started out to make the film, they started out to make a thirty minute film. One street basketball court…like an inner city playground court. And basically they were gonna shoot for a couple weeks that summer. That was it. And that was gonna be the film. So when we got out there…one of the things…because I had come from making films over a long period of time with people…was that I think when we knew we had something really special was when we went out to St. Josephs with Arthur and his family after he’d been picked off the street, got bigger older and recruited, we went out with him and we had Pingatore telling us…this poor kid and this poor kid’s family, that “if you do what I want I promise that you’ll get into a Division I college and play basketball.” That was the moment when I went “Oh, this is a film.”

CW: Cause it’s so improbable…

PETER GILBERT: Not only improbable but like just the concept of it. Here’s a four year story. Here’s this great story. You’re pulling a kid out of the inner city and putting him in a suburban environment. I mean everything about it was improbable. So yeah, that’s when I knew we had a good film. I mean in terms of a commercial film? I never once thought it was commercial until it opened up in a movie theater. I mean we had no money. We had $5000 for the first four years. If I didn’t own gear we wouldn’t have been able to do it. We never thought…we would’ve been thrilled if it had played on PBS. I mean what happened to it none of us ever thought. I mean I think we thought there was a point…there’s always a point when you think you have the worst film ever. And that was an 8-hour cut of it. I had gotten home and wept on my wife’s shoulder. Cause I had thought I had put so much time into nothing. And then you know when it was added to actual time and stuff, there was that moment when I thought, “you know I’m really proud of this, this is interesting, now I’m curious if anyone will ever see it.”

CW: Some criticism of your film…in a 1999 article from the South Atlantic Review a writer named Kimberley Chabot Davis said  that with regard to Hoop Dreams, “I am disturbed by the fact that Hoop Dreams’ subjects do not seem fully aware that the film represents their lives as tragedy or as fodder for irony.” She added that Arthur’s knowing of no other life except being a star in the NBA makes the film “exploitative.” Can you to respond to that?

PETER GILBERT: The thing that [critics] need to understand is that if we were doing a film about that—Arthur only being in the NBA and that’s his dream and that’s the only reason we were interested—is exploiting that aspect. We would’ve never filmed Arthur. Arthur was—you saw him at the beginning of the film. He’s a little rail of a kid. Would you have picked him and gone “oh my god he’s gonna be a Division I basketball player? He’s gonna end up at Arkansas State?”

All through the film I think the film is very, um, there are people telling him not to believe in his dream. It’s Arthur who believes in his dream. I can’t make a subject not believe in something he wants to believe in. And he honestly believed in that dream–to the point that he believed it into his thirties. He kept trying to play ball.  You know, professionally. So I mean I think that’s a very off-based comment…because I think Arthur was very aware that it was a dream.

Steve James (left), Peter Gilbert (center), and Fred Marx filming "Hoop Dreams."

But the difference was he wanted to live it. He knew. He knew that there’s…he saw William. William had shattered dreams. And so he knew the odds. And the other thing I think that that person doesn’t understand is that if what we were interested in was Arthur as an NBA player, that exploitation…that when Arthur left school, you know he was at St Joes. But both kids go to St Joes. And Arthur leaves. He gets kicked out by Coach Pingatore because he’s not good enough basically. And he was gonna have to pay half the tuition. Couldn’t afford it. The thing that really isn’t in the film…because it’s between us…is that we couldn’t find Arthur. You know it was before cell phones, we couldn’t find him, he wasn’t home, we couldn’t find Sheila, we didn’t know what was going on. No one told us he had left. So we didn’t know.

So a couple weeks later we find him. And he goes “why are you guys here?” And we go “what do you mean why are we here?” And he goes, “I’m not at St. Joes anymore. I’m not gonna be…you know… a star basketball player. And I’m back at Marshall…blah blah blah…” I’m like “Arthur. We’re interested in you. We’re not interested in you being a star basketball player. We want to film you.” That was the relationship we had.

CW: How did it feel when you discovered the Oscars had snubbed Hoop Dreams for “Best Documentary” and “Best Picture” even though many critics had put your film in their Top-10 lists? And did you watch the ceremony?

PETER GILBERT It was kind of funny that because of the publicity we all had to be at Kartemquin. And there were all of these news crews there cause they thought it was gonna be nominated. I’m…you know the whole way that the Oscars nominate documentaries has changed.

CW: It’s different because of your film, right?

PETER GILBERT: I’m now on that board. The thing that was interesting was that I was a judge that year at Sundance after the guy at the time, he was running the documentary board, said “you know you’re not even nominated. We won’t let it happen.” So I knew we were not gonna get nominated. Now what was surprising…which…and the documentary was a huge to-do when the documentary people said “you know it’s too long. It’s boring.” But it got nominated for Best Editing. It’s the only documentary that’s ever been nominated for any other category in the Academy Awards. So it was like up against Forest Gump…so that says it all to me. You know what I mean?

CW: Not too bad.

PETER GILBERT: So it was…disappointing. And I’ll tell you the most disappointing thing was after we didn’t get nominated with that, we called and said, “ya know we don’t give a shit about that. But would be really nice is…for a year, that film played in theaters. For over a year. For a year these families have really given their lives to everybody. Can we just have them at the Oscars? Let’s have them there. Let them give an award. Just let people…cause they were…it was a phenomenon. Just let them know that people acknowledge them.” And no.

CW: Weren’t even invited?

PETER GILBERT: No. And when I told Curtis, William’s brother that…he’s like, “why would they invite me?” That killed me. And we did go to the Oscars. And I made jokes about it. You should get the tape. David Letterman went nuts on it.

CW: Very briefly…can you talk about the title of the film? And what Hoop Dreams means to you? Roger Ebert actually said that William and Arthur’s “Hoop Dreams” did come true. Do you agree with this?

PETER GILBERT: Um, that’s complicated. The title comes from…Steve came up with the title…Steve James. And it was actually written on the court…there was somebody wrote…you know how people do graffiti…and then he came up with the title from there. I agree with Roger in the sense that if you statistically looked at what was supposed to happen to those kids, the statistics probably for William, even though he was a prodigy, to make it to the level that he made it to was probably 1 in 75,000.

You gotta remember that William could hardly read when he got into the high school. The fact that he made it is amazing. The fact the a 15 yr old…he’s fifteen years old, he has a daughter…ya know the whole thing. And where he lived. The fact that Arthur was able to…the pain that he went through with his family…that he was able to pull himself up enough to be able to do that was amazing. So in that regard, yes, they had some of their hoop dreams. Were they enough? They weren’t enough for Arthur. Just being able to go to college wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. And for William I think there was always that moment in his head that “I coulda done it.” Cause he coulda.

CW: Injuries kind of just plagued his career…

PETER GILBERT: William was that close. I mean he really was. He was a phenomenal player. And anyways I think that as the years went by I think one of the things you find out about is even though they had this dream, we helped them get there. You know college, all that stuff gives them a sort of posture in the community. Because of being a ball player, the fact is that they still could’ve escaped what happens to unfortunately way too many black Americans and families. Especially…Arthur’s dad was murdered. William’s brother was murdered. And so…you know I think that if Roger looked at that in the big picture, I’m not so sure [if their dreams came true]…

CW: Would you consider Coach Pingatore the antagonist of the film?

PETER GILBERT: Um. No.

CW: Any reason why? He certainly seems to be portrayed in that manner.  I guess maybe if you wanna talk about your relationship with him?

PETER GILBERT: Well it’s hard for me to consider him an antagonist because…he’s a real, living, breathing person. He’s not someone I wrote to…

CW: It’s hard to not think of him as doing his job…

PETER GILBERT: Right. He’s a coach. And he had his own goals…which is he wanted to win a state basketball championship very badly. And you know a couple years ago he did. So I never looked at Gene as being this evil guy who was trying to suck the blood out of these kids. But I did look at him as a somewhat cautionary tale in the sense where I think some people would say that Gene’s helped a lot of kids and some people would say that…lets his own coaching dreams get in the way of other…of some of the kids. So it’s a tough question in that regard. And you know I think I have respect for Gene in many ways in the sense that when he was …when a player like William came in and he needed that kid to step it up academically and be there for that kid, he was. And the sad thing is… I guess is when Arthur was having problems in school and was not able to make payment…basically they cut his scholarship…and the only thing I say that I have problems with is that it wouldn’t have happened to William. If William had had issues with money, being the player that he was as a freshman, it would’ve been cleared up. Also that being said, if Pingatore had any idea how good Arthur was gonna be by his senior year it would’ve never happened.

So that’s my problem… I guess is that. And I guess where you see that most in the film is…the only time I ever got mad at him was… where he says to William “you had an okay career.” That killed me. Because in my mind William had an unbelievable career. That kid was going full ride to Marquette University where his brother wanted to play. After going through what that kid went through growing up, and to say that to him because basically he didn’t get his championship was just brutal to me. To me he should’ve hugged him and said “you had an unbelievable career. I’m proud of ya.” And that should’ve been it. So that’s my…you know, my gut there.

CW: Sounds a little heartless if you ask me…

PETER GILBERT: But just so you know, William’s kid goes to summer camp there. William still stays in touch with Ping. I don’t think his kid will go to high school there but Ping will be recruiting him like mad. So it’s not…it’s a mixed bag for William…and I think William feels…you can sometime call him…I think he feels that if he had played in a freer, open system that he would’ve been a totally different ball player. What happened to him…just as an example…to talk hoop dreams…dreams in basketball as you know…a lot of them have to do with having the right people behind you at the right time. So Ping was a great person to have behind at that time to a certain point. I don’t think that William ever played a freer game as he could’ve played. I saw that kid play his sophomore year of high school in the summer and he was killing pro players. Anything he shot went in. He was at that place that people don’t get at. It was one of the only times I ever believed like, “damn this kid’s gonna go to the NBA.” This kid…it’s just nuts how good he is. And then he had his injury. And with people who know basketball or who know these dreams…they’re just so hard to fulfill.

CW: Thanks so much for your time, Peter.

———————————————————————————————————–

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade and Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.

Despite draconian responses from Islam in regard to the depiction of the Prophet Mohammed, Barrie M. Osborne, the producer that helped bring us The Lord of the Rings (2001) and The Matrix (1999) has announced a $150 million production about the life of the Prophet Muhammad. The issue here is that since the 16^th or 17^th century, Aniconism has been strictly followed in Islam.  This means there can be no depiction or representation of the Prophet in any form.   Barrie may have found ways to take us to the summit of Mount Doom, but how will he create a biopic on the Prophet if he is unable to show his face or body?

Moustapha Akkad did it in 1977 with “Muhammad: Messenger of God.”  As did the animator and filmmaker Richard Rich with his animated film “Muhammad: The Last Prophet.”  They employed a style of filmmaking where the world was seen from Muhammad’s point of view and the actors addressed the camera.  However they forbid Muhammad’s voice to be used as well. So the spirit of Muhammad is presented through either inaudible dialogue or through head nods that the camera responds back to the actors.

This is a pretty big obstacle to get around considering Osborne is making a biopic about a man whom you cannot show on screen and whose voice you are not allowed to hear. The method, however, is of small concern compared to the potential international backlash and political controversy such a film could cause.

In 1977 Khalifa Hamaas Abdul Khaalis, along with eleven armed accomplices, took 149 hostages in Washington, DC.  There was a standoff with several demands declared, one of which was that Khaalis wanted to prevent Akkad’s “Mohammad: Messenger of God” from being released anywhere in the world.  Two people died during the siege.

And lest we forget in September of 2005, the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten published a series of illustrations depicting the Prophet Muhammad.  These publications resulted in demonstrations and riots throughout the Muslim world; Jyllands-Posten even received death threats by people as prominent as the leaders of Hamas. People debated across the world on topics of self-censorship and freedom of speech.  From the ensuing riots, over 100 deaths were reported. All this over a series of cartoons. Now imagine the kind of animosity that can result from the production of a feature length movie.

The Danish cartoons of the Jyllands-Posten that spurred international protests.

Presumably, having Muslims almost exclusively involved in this production is supposed to help ease the concerns of Muslims all over the world. It will be cast with English speaking Muslims.  Prominent Muslim scholar Sheikh Yusuf Al-Qaradawi will be supervising the production of the movie and has praised the efforts of the film to “serve Islam” and help remove stereotypes of Islam in the West.

But one stereotype of Islam that has increased over the last decade is that they react histrionically and often violently against what other cultures see as minor offenses. In order to shed Islam of such stereotypes, they should allow a physical depiction of the Prophet without reprisal. The idea of Aniconism is relatively new in Islam.  There are numerous graphic depictions of Muhammad, some of which you can find at this link: here. The Qur’an does not mention any law forbidding the graphic depiction of Muhammad. The avoidance of any images of the Prophet is a somewhat modern interpretation stemming from laws forbidding idolatry; idolatry is forbidden in Judiasm and Christianity as well.

A Muslim friend of mine believes that because images of Saints and Jesus are allowed in Christianity, they have fallen into idolatry. She cited her own experience seeing Catholics praying to statues of the Saints, the Virgin Mary and Jesus at numerous cathedrals.  A valid point.  It does seem at times that Christians, and I am one of them, hold in higher esteem the iconography of religion instead of the teachings and core beliefs of religion.  On that point, it appears Muslims then also hold the depiction of Muhammad to be of greater importance than his teachings of peace and compassion.

If Muslims wish to enforce this law among themselves, then by all means, please enforce this amongst yourselves.  But I am not Muslim. If I drew a large portrait of the Prophet and posted it behind this article, I should be allowed to do so without fear of reprisal. Punishing me for violating a law I do not adhere to would be like a US cop arresting a Dutch citizen for smoking pot in Amsterdam.

Further international backlash and criticism is inevitable because Muhammad himself is a very controversial historical figure.  Many opponents of Islam believe Muhammad was a misogynistic, wife abusing, pedophile. That is of course using very strong language to describe Muhammad. The Prophet did marry Aisha, her age to be around 6 or 7 and then consummated the marriage with her some years later when she left her parents’ home.  There are also verses that suggest that Muhammad beat her, or at least struck her in the chest.

Historical accuracies are going to be a big issue in this film and need to be handled delicately.  How can Muhammad’s marriage to Aisha be addressed without making him look like a wife-beating pedophile to a modern Westernized audience? Especially considering you are not allowed to show a physical depiction of his wives or children either? How do you present a Prophet that Muslims claim to be a Prophet of peace despite accusations that over 100 Qur’an verses advocate war against all non-believers? And, if such questions aren’t even presented, can we even consider such a film as a biopic?

Even greater still is the issue of freedom of speech. A film professor of mine once said, “if you’re saying we shouldn’t film it, you are saying we shouldn’t talk about it.”  And if we are not allowed to talk about specific issues ignorance will start to manifest and from ignorance we breed anger and violence. Only through open dialogue, through the freedom of speech, can we start to understand each other and bring about peaceful resolutions.

Let’s hope Osborne doesn’t puss out on this one, even though he has already stated he will. Roland Emmerich was purposefully advised not to film the apocalyptic destruction of the holy Muslim Kaaba in his new film, 2012, since his co-writer would “not have a fatwa on [his] head because of a movie.” The makers of 2012 were not, however, concerned with the on-screen destruction of other holy religious sites.

Film has a long history of opening up dialogue, educating the masses, and creating controversy that spurs advances in thought. What Osborne must do is work with Sheikh Yusuf Al-Qaradawi, who is also the chairman of the International Union for Muslim Scholars, to create a film that accurately and honestly depicts the Prophet.  With this sort of progressive-minded, cross-cultural teamwork, there exists hope that the film can be received peacefully and that it will provide the West with a greater understanding of the Islamic culture.

Eric Patton is a contributing writer for The Film Crusade.

Heather Donahue in "The Blair Witch Project."

Looking back at The Blair Witch Project, it’s fascinating to look at the way it works as a horror film. For those who don’t know the story, it’s about 3 student filmmakers who go deep into a Maryland forest in search of a legendary spook, the Blair Witch. As they search for the witch, they get lost, they fight amongst themselves, and things get creepier and creepier. The movie is shot like a documentary, and treated as such; a prologue suggests that the video to follow was all shot by the three students before they disappeared into the woods. The filmmakers (the real ones) employ the use of two different cameras, a 16mm film camera that the students are using for their film, and a home video camcorder, which the director (Heather Donahue) uses to document the process. The result is surprisingly frightening.

Many people didn’t like this movie when it came out. Your average horror movie lover is looking for big scares, gore, and probably some sex. Blair Witch has little, if any, of these regular horror movie staples. The film is instead about the characters and their downward spiral. The horror comes not from weird looking ghoulies or from disgusting blood and guts, but from putting us squarely in the middle of a very scary situation. It’s shot like it’s real, and it feels like it’s real. The more an audience believes what’s happening, the more they’re engrossed in the story – and this is why the film succeeds. And it isn’t just the weird things that happen that are scary either, it’s the way that the kids continue to stay lost. Who would have thought that the woods could seem claustrophobic?

The students give performances that lend perfectly to the realism. Their style and attitude is so believable, that you often forget you’re watching actors. The dialogue is for the most part improvised, and comes off so naturally; it often feels like they’re saying exactly what we ourselves might say in such situations. And there are clear and different objectives for all three, which quickly turn into one – get the heck out of Dodge.

The ending is an oft-debated topic between horror movie junkies. Heather and Mike find a broken down house in the middle of the woods, and go inside looking for Josh, who has gone missing. Each of them is now running with their own camera, separated, hearing strange noises, frantically searching. We see Mike’s camera go into the basement, and go out. Heather then follows down into the basement, and the last thing she sees (we assume) is Mike just standing there, ominously facing the corner.

"The Blair Witch Project" (1999).

It’s fascinating to look back and see what this little film was, and that it’s still frightening even ten years later. It’s an innovative concept, both well-executed, and employed for the right reasons. One sign of a truly good movie is that its effect goes beyond its time. Horror movies often fail in this regard because they’re so reliant on a specific, timely audience. But less is more with The Blair Witch Project, and the simplicity is one of the things that makes it just as effective today as it was in 1999.

Josh Long is a contributing writer for The Film Crusade.

Michael Stuhlbarg in "A Serious Man."

As I stood at the Hollywood Grove Pacific Theater wondering which movie I should see, I noticed something rather disheartening about my options. Every single film had a certain specifically-tailored marketing hook—the kind of hook that insists on drawing attention to itself each time you read an ad for a movie on a billboard, see a theatrical trailer, and likely in the movie itself. You know just what I’m talking about. The kind of movies that, like products, you know precisely what you’re going to get. Movies like The Vampire’s Assistant that knows it’s a vampire movie and draws attention to itself (and let’s face it, it’s probably nothing more than “a vampire movie”). I’m not quite sure when the impulse overtook me, but I was feeling rebellious and purposefully did not want to be hooked into the cheapness of such marketing ploys.

Where the Wild Things Are and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs are two movies based on children’s books. These are books which many of us have read. These are two movies with an already embedded market. Then I looked to Couples Retreat and felt sad that a film so predictable had done so well at the box office last week. Then I looked to Zombieland and, though enormously interested, resisted the urge to being reeled into the theater primarily because of the film’s obnoxiously hip marketing campaign (but I will see it, and will admittedly probably enjoy it). Another movie, Capitalism: A Love Story is quite bluntly for anyone who wants to have their own anti-capitalist opinions confirmed in a pointed, sarcastic Michael Moore documentary.  So I looked to the Coen Bros.’ most recent A Serious Man. While I admit I was not sold on this movie from the trailer, I decided to see it anyway. And why? It was the only film that didn’t feel like a predictable and disposable studio product.

But ironically enough, it was the film with the most reliable brand name attached to it: The Coen Bros.  Even though I hardly had any desire to actually see the film, I knew that I was in good hands. I wanted to experience a well-told story that was challenging and complex, funny and sad. Needless to say, I’m glad I purchased my ticket. Because soon enough these kinds of movies will be rare commodities.

The Death of Surprise

I recently spoke with an agent at a well-renowned talent agency who challenged me to name one “drama” that’s done well at the box office in the last five years. Shocked by the fact that he wasn’t kidding, I started naming several movies which I thought to be dramas that were successful. He immediately shot down my responses on grounds that while they may have contained “elements of drama” (which, inevitably all films do) that they could not necessarily be considered dramas. I wasn’t sure that films like Atonement (2007) and Slumdog Millionaire (2008) were exempt from such classification, but decided to listen to what he was trying to tell me anyway.

He then took out his Blackberry device and read me a list of about sixty or so films set for release in years 2010, 2011 and 2012. The list included an assortment of scripts related to or concerning pre-existing brands or games, sequels, comedies, 3D and—well, that’s all. I was stunned. Hollywood is reducing risk by targeting micro-specific markets as annoyingly as Facebook and Twitter ads visually assault its users. And now there’s absolutely no room for risk.

So goes the assumption: “Have you played Battleship as a kid? Well then you probably will want to see a movie on Battleship!”

This “anti-risk Hollywood” is not only dangerous to the industry itself, but it will most certainly fail. The assumption that viewers no longer want thought-provoking, unpredictable film is not only naïve but disturbing—disturbing because it underscores the mentality that in order for tickets and DVDs to be bought that a consumer must know exactly what product they themselves are getting. My question is: Why would you want to see a movie if you already know what it’s about?? That’s not to say that people interested in seeing neverending car-chases and rip-roaring explosions shouldn’t see Action movies. But how can we establish a compromise between seeing what we want to see without knowing exactly how the story will go?

Another problem with an anti-risk Hollywood is that by eliminating the word “drama” from our movie vocabularies, the fundamental purpose of movie-going historically and today is being outright challenged. No longer can film be thought-provoking because under these new standards film need only be thought-confirming. Now can you see why this is problematic?

Credit the Coen Bros. for continuing to innovate virtually each year by delivering films which not only challenge Hollywood to be better, but sometimes even influence Hollywood. A Serious Man is a loaded film which ultimately provides more questions than answers for both its central characters and the viewers alike. Admittedly this was not an easy film to sit through. But it is a film which stands up for itself. A film which cannot be dismissed as disposable entertainment. A film that is too complex, too emotional, too funny, too sad, and ultimately too unpredictable to be packaged as a product.

Joel and Ethan Coen on the set of "A Serious Man."

To quickly brief those who have no seen or heard of A Serious Man, the story deals with a man named Larry Gupnik (Michael Stuhlbarg) who finds that he is constantly being victimized by human nature. His wife leaves him, he is kicked out of his own house, his kids are spoiled rotten, his students want better grades, etc. While those interested in seeing the film will assume that the story’s message is “you shouldn’t take life so seriously,” the Coens have labored hard to make the film far more complex than we’d expect. As Larry wrestles with an abundance of problems he decides to finally turn to God for some meaning behind his hectic life. What he learns is that sometimes there aren’t divine explanations for bad circumstances. For some people, the answer simply may just be something we have to figure out on our own. The question is whether Larry is able to figure that out for himself.

That’s about all of the story I’m going to give away as I’d hate to dismiss the film as a mere predictable product. A Serious Man may not be an easy pill to swallow. But it is an important pill. The kind of pill that’s good for you.

Simply put, the film is about Jews, God and Marijuana. So go out and see the movie. You may love it. Or you may even hate it. But one way or another, I can guarantee you’ll be surprised.

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade and Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.

But why exactly did Carpenter’s films works so well in his heyday? And what made those films apart of Carpenter’s golden age of filmmaking? All three of Carpenter’s major successes all have the same common denominator when it comes to generating fright. The characters in these films are in many respects victims of being on the wrong side of history. Before cell phones and internet, technology which we now consider rudimentary was more vulnerable. While many of that technology still exists today, we are not nearly as dependent on it as we used to be. And if our landlines power-down or our radio signals disappear, we have many other options besides a howling voice to seek help. What makes Carpenter’s classics work is that the characters are plagued by technologies they depend on.

Assault  on Precinct 13, Halloween, and The Thing contain plots wherein characters must fight for their own lives against a force they soon realize cannot be stopped by authorities.  Carpenter isolates his characters from the larger world by focusing on a small number of people in a very small setting. In Assault on Precinct 13, Anderson, California  is a small suburb infested with gang members who rule the streets with assault rifles. The film culminates at a small police precinct which is closing down and cannot protect the public when Anderson is most vulnerable. In Halloween, Michael Myers stalks a small suburb with an incorrigible “sheriff” and kills within a one block radius. And in The Thing, the characters themselves share an evil which cannot be contained. Small settings, no help from the outside world, and an unstoppable motherfucker that wants you dead. Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining abides by the same horror principles.

Of course the possibility remains that such plots can still be plausible today. The 2007 indie-horror The Strangers fits the Carpenter horror philosophy with ease, even if not as successful as the man himself. But because of the nature of enhanced communication through technology, most horror films are not nearly as effective as they used to be. It’s not that people aren’t sure how to make them now. Rather it is the conditions into which our society has evolved to that makes modern day horror flicks either implausible or simply impossible. The world is too connected now for someone to be cut off from society so much as to be insignificant or unheard.

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade as well as Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.

Every film has a different code of ethics for its newspaper, reporter, editor, and even its subjects. The most recent newspaper movie, State of Play, reminded us of just how downright dirty editors and reporters on film can be. And being that newspaper films seem to be headed toward extinction, we thought it would be fun the recall the many newspaper films worth the price of admission.

Case Studies: State of Play, All the President’s Men, Absence of Malice, The Paper, Ace in the Hole.

Honorable Mention: Citizen Kane, Shattered Glass, Sweet Smell of Success, Newsies.

STATE OF PLAY (2009)

Can a newspaper be more powerful if it’s about to tank? Director Kevin MacDonald (The Last King of Scotland) seems to think so. Such is the dramatic tension existing in most newspaper movies. The reporter needs a reason to keep their job and make sure the newspaper can survive. So what often happens in these movies is that reporters end up digging for a story until they strike gold. Some have no moral boundaries while others could care less about legal limits. In State of Play, old-fashioned Washington Globe reporter Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe) is a moral character with a sound sense of journalism ethics but with absolutely no legal limits. McAffrey breaks the Woodward and Bernstein convention of investigative journalism by instead playing detective, journalist, crime-scene-investigator, and player! Talk about a reporter who likes to stay close to his subjects.

Russell Crowe and Ben Affleck in State of Play (2009)

Similar to a 70’s style political thriller, McAffrey and sidekick Della Frye (Rachel McAdams) organically unravel the complex mystery of the murder linked to Rep. Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck), McAffrey’s old college buddy. Their involvement in the story is often dangerous, and enough to get the police to show up at their headquarters after McAffrey withholds evidence. A memorable line is when the police sergeant reminds McAffrey, “It’s not a story, it’s a case!” Like Michael Keaton’s character in The Paper, McAffrey believes that in the newspaper timing is everything. So he employs illegal tactics such as videotaping his subjects and conducting closed-door interrogations in hotel rooms! Fearing that his partner or other bloggers will impulsively “upchuck online” after hearing a rumor, McAffrey represents a dying breed of reporters who believe that writing for a major newspaper carries a greater sense of accountability and accuracy which cannot be realized in the instantaneous, digital realm. Perhaps he is the last best hope for the papers.

ACE IN THE HOLE (1951)

Arguably the king of the newspaper films (that is unless you consider Citizen Kane to fit in this category), Billy Wilder’s ferociously uncompromising picture takes jabs at both the reporter who writes the story as well as the public who loves to gobble it up. Having been fired from various big-city newspapers, Charles “Chuck” Tatum (Kirk Douglas) finds himself needing to land a big rebound for an Albuquerque newspaper in New Mexico. Upon discovering a man named Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) trapped in a cavern, Tatum seizes the opportunity to blow the story out of proportion into a national headliner while exploiting the rescue effort.

Tatum directs the entire rescue effort in a manner that will take days on end to complete while endangering the life of Minosa. Meanwhile, Tatum acts as a puppeteer, telling Minosa’s wife that she should pretend to be sad even though she’s thinking of leaving her husband. Tatum also bribes the Sheriff with media exposure if he can keep national reporters in the dark and allow Tatum to doctor the story as much as possible.

Kirk Douglas in "Ace in the Hole" (1951)

To the other big-city papers, Tatum once again appears as a moneymaking commodity to have on staff after he receives national attention as a celebrity. But to the editor of the Albuquerque newspaper who boasts a sign in the office which reads “Tell the Truth,” Tatum represents a cancer to pure and ethical reporting.

Unlike other newspaper films, the reporter cares an awful lot more about business and sales than the editor for Albuquerque’s paper. In Tatum’s utopian mind, smiling faces and happy endings are important requirements for good storytelling. Though he claims he is a “human interest” writer, he hardly has any human interest for his subject whose life is on the line. And yet it’s difficult to crucify Tatum particularly since Wilder’s commentary on the public’s interest in news is both reflexive and somewhat accusatory. The working title for the film, “The Big Carnival,” suggests Wilder wanted to rip on the large crowds that flocked to Albuquerque by making them the focal point of the story’s focus instead of Tatum. To Wilder, the bigger story for the papers is the mere fact that a nation-wide, circus-like event is staged at the scene where a desperate man is fighting for his life.

ABSENCE OF MALICE (1981)

This film focuses on the importance of reporters getting their facts straight, even when their sources seem reliable. In this case, Megan Carter (Sally Field) must cope with a whirlwind of repercussions set in motion by her choice to publish an unconfirmed report found on a desk linking Michael Gallagher (Paul Newman), son of a deceased Mafia boss to the disappearance of a union member. When Carter gets romantically involved with Gallagher, the line of trust erodes as Gallagher questions her loyalty as a friend over her passion for being a reporter. Although she may not come off as such, Carter represents the most selfish and ruthless of news reporters since she allows herself to become quite close with her subjects before backstabbing them for the sake of story. In one instance when Carter is confirming the whereabouts of Gallagher and Gallagher’s friend, Teresa Perrone (Melinda Dillon) at the time the union man disappeared, Teresa is lured into Carter’s trap of admitting Gallagher was with her during her scheduled abortion that very day. A devout Catholic, Teresa is ardently opposed to letting the community know about this even though the news can help absolve Gallagher. But in favor her story at the expense of Teresa, Carter nevertheless publishes the article only to discover the next day that Teresa has slit her wrists in suicide.

Paul Newman and Sally Field in "Absence of Malice" (1981)

This film explores what happens when desirable news stories are doctored by self-interested people who are either naïve about the power of the newspaper or who deliberately use the newspaper as a tool for political power. Less business-oriented than some other films mentioned, Carter’s editor serves as a moral compass instead of a numbers chart. Absence of Malice underscores the outrageous reality of non-existent stories being manufactured by news reporters for simply the sake of a good story. It fully articulates the consequences of such endeavors, on both the side of the subject and source of the story.

The final scene of the film dazzles with irony as Asst. U.S. Attorney James A. Wells (Wilford Brimley) interrogates all responsible parties for the false and illegal reporting. Gallagher, the initial suspect, ends up having the last laugh.

ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN (1976):

Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford in "All the President's Men" (1976)

Two words. Fact-check. Alan J. Pakula’s newsroom in Washington doesn’t mess around with false stories since DC’s power players are always reading the morning edition. Woodward (Robert Redford) and Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) may not like you, but they’re sure as hell gonna make sure that they’re right before printing a story. These are guys with class and ethics who believe in the investigation and are willing to put themselves on the line even if it means putting their jobs on the line. It isn’t until the end of the film when they print the story they’ve been waiting to print from the get-go, banging away on the typewriter. But it took a couple hours of interrogations, fact-checking, and careful brainstorming in order to get there.

THE PAPER (1994)

Having a field day with the enthusiasm of a solid cast, Ron Howard brings the energy and excitement of the newsroom to the big screen with power and purpose. The Paper reminds us why we favor one paper over another and gives us some insight into the importance of delivering the right story at the right time. As the clock winds down before the printing presses begin rolling, Henry Hackett (Michael Keaton) utilizes every tool and every person within proximity to get what he wants to prove his story before deadline. For Hackett, it’s less about the story itself and more about the timing of the story. He views reporting in such a way that he feels he is a client to the public. If his paper can print a story accurately and stay ahead of the curve in reporting against other papers, even if it’s just by a difference of one day, Hackett proclaims victory.

To the average viewer, the difference in getting a story right should not make too much of a difference in the time frame of just 24-hours. But Keaton brings such a richness and sense of purpose to his character that makes him easy to root for. Once we learn that he has turned down an offer from another paper that would be more money, Hackett has no other motive for wanting to publish the story other than to save the two innocents.

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade and Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.

Celebrating the 20th anniversary of Do the Right Thing
On June 30th it will have been 20 years since Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing was screened in theaters. Lee’s controversial yet bold exercise in filmmaking proved himself a pioneer in understanding race relations and certainly one of the best black voices in film. Self-aware of his unique position in a film industry dominated by white filmmakers, Lee kept a journal of the time he spent bringing to life Do The Right Thing. From inception through eventual production, Lee candidly documented his thoughts and emotions. What resulted was an insightful and intriguing catalog of Lee’s passion for filmmaking, frustration with the studio system, and even the challenge of experiencing writer’s block.

The journal allows us to pick Lee’s brain. It reveals that unlike many master auteurs of the industry, Lee himself was no natural genius. He was a man with a creative vision who simply wanted to say something about the world. Available to the public in academic libraries, Spike Lee’s journal is a goldmine of content for any aspiring filmmaker who wonders how good ideas blossom into theatrical films.

Organized by date, Lee’s journal entries often were days apart from each other. In conceiving Do The Right Thing, his kernel of an idea was rooted in “a hot summer day.” Lee expressed his fascination in “circular stories” wherein each character represents a certain idea or contributes to a specific theme within the script. As he came up with the character of Sal played by Danny Aiello, Spike aimed high for “Bob” Deniro. After having lunch with Deniro to discuss the script, Deniro opted to pass on the script because he thought his character was too typecast like the roles he was used to playing. Other casting considerations included Spike’s attempt to secure Matt Dillon and Laurence Fishburne into supporting roles. Spike was frustrated to learn that both Dillon and Fishburne sought leading roles in order to be apart of the project. After weeks of failed persuasion Spike eventually moved on to find newer actors, claiming “[Dillon and Fishburne] weren’t worth it.” While many may consider Do The Right Thing as the masterwork which ascended Spike into rock-star status, his ease of scheduling lunch with the big boys in between doing shoots with Charles Barkley and Michael Jordan proved that he was already pulling the right strings to make a bigger name for himself.

His previous picture, School Daze, seemed almost a distraction to Lee who was awaiting its theatrical release. His focus was more on preparing a script for Do The Right Thing which he believed would make him a serious industry player. Said Lee, “It’s important that I follow up School Daze right away. This is crucial, no recent Black filmmaker has been able to go from film to film like the white boys do.” Lee’s journal also reveals his anger towards the studio system. Excerpts in the journal between School Daze and Do The Right Thing show how Lee felt the odds were pitted against him because his status as an unproven black filmmaker was putting him at a disadvantage with studio execs. His rhetoric even signals the existence of racism in the studio system:

“Universal pictures is dicking me around. They won’t budge from the $6.5 million budget, won’t go a penny over it. It’s ridiculous. White boys get real money, fuck up, lose millions of dollars, and still get chance after chance. Not so with us. You fuck up one time, that’s it. After the commercial successes of She’s Gotta Have It and School Daze I shouldn’t have to fight for the pennies the way I’m doing now. But what else can I do? I’ll make the best film possible with the budget I’m given.“

Lee was also irked by Paramount which wanted to change the end of the film because “the riot scene scared them.” An important demand of Lee was that he have complete artistic control and final cut of Do The Right Thing because he did not want a black film to be made by white people (which is what he claimed had happened with The Color Purple).

Lee also complained about the Hollywood system for its polarizing of talented filmmakers. Lee remarked that he didn’t want to be pigeon-holed to work with just a “Spike Lee crew” and instead wanted the experience of working with many different filmmakers on future sets. He notes the unfortunate state of the industry as one which promotes competition among competing crews of filmmakers instead of collaboration. Lee expressed that he was not worried about competition or of being surpassed by other black filmmakers as long as cinema was being advanced.

In terms of how Lee wanted Do the Right Thing to be received by audiences, his journal writings reveal that he was very race-conscious and race-sophisticated in terms of what buttons he was going to push with people. Every decision he made with regard to a character was meticulously considered. Many of his entries signaled a sense of responsibility in making a film which he knew dealt openly with race. Lee maintained that he did not want be preachy and that he “doesn’t like movies like that.” Some films which inspired Spike during pre-production were Night of the Hunter and Powaqaatsi. Radio Raheem’s brass “love and hate” knuckles were inspired by Robert Mitchum’s character. In his entry on Powaqaatsi, Lee wrote “They had this vicious shot of kids racing straight into the camera. Nasty. We should do the same.” Usually when Spike would write about a good idea he came up with he used the word “vicious.”

Lee’s journal comes off more like a diary as his entries appear honest, open, and genuine. What is most fascinating about the journal is that Lee never appears pretentious or even brilliant. He comes off as a normal guy who just wants to share his vision. His faith and certainty in Do The Right Thing and the conquered challenge of bringing his dream-film into reality is what separates the edgy, no-nonsense Lee from the rest. After 20 years, Lee’s can-do attitude continues to inspire.

Charlie Wachtel is a Senior Writer for The Film Crusade and Founder of www.filmcrusade.com.