Month: April 2025

I recently went to see the re-release of the wonderful 1997 Studio Ghibli film Princess Mononoke. It was terrific to see this masterpiece of animation on the big screen. The story was thoughtful and exciting. Moreover, it was beautifully crafted, with many scenes that took your breath away.

Going to a film like Princess Mononoke was typical of my recent movie going. I rarely see first run fare, except during Oscar season. Instead, I see showings of older movies. (My other movie in a theater that week was the hilarious 2007 comedy Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story). Luckily, I live where such films are readily available.

The previews I saw before Princess exemplified why I skip most new studio releases. The previews were of “family friendly” movies and included a live action remake of How to Train Your Dragon, a teen action/adventure film called The Legend of Ochi and a live action remake of Lilo and Stitch.

While I am not the target audience for these films, the obvious lack of originality struck me. Both the Dragon and Ochi involve a teenager befriending an otherwise hated creature. Both included the exact same line, “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you”. Dragon and Lilo seem to have been remade for no other reason than that they now have the CGI to let them do so. From what I could tell, they are a mere regurgitation of the originals.      

The dearth of new ideas from Hollywood is nothing new. The industry powers that be are constantly searching for something that will tickle the fancy of moviegoers but generally settle for rehashing what they have done before. They are either afraid to venture something different, or don’t have the ability to generate new ideas.

Hollywood struck gold 20 or so years ago with Marvel superhero films. Audiences seemed willing to swallow any savior with special powers, and Hollywood certainly was willing to keep churning such films out. After a while, however, they ran out of A-list heroes and dug deep for material, giving us such white knights as Black Adam, The Eternals, and Blue Beetle. Not surprisingly, interest waned.

With the superhero genre a mere shadow of itself, Hollywood is fishing for something new, by looking at things old. In addition to the live cartoons listed above, we have been recently graced with Snow White, Mufasa: The Lion King and The Little Mermaid. Hercules and Robin Hood are on their way.     

I get it. It’s expensive to make a film. If you can’t attract an audience, you will lose a lot of money. Put together a string of bombs and you could lose your job. It’s safer to put something out there that has, at least ostensibly, a ready-made following. Or at least that’s the argument.

The problem is that these are not normal times for the film industry. According to NPR, five years after COVID resulted in the biggest attendance drop in cinematic history, Hollywood still has not recovered. The first nine weeks of 2025 ticket sales in North America improved over last year, but they’re still running well behind the pre-COVID weeks of 2020. I just can’t see these rehashed films pulling Hollywood out of the doldrums.

The recent Oscars highlighted the problem Hollywood has. It was truly ironic when Sean Baker, director of Best Picture winner, Anora, pleaded with viewers to come back into the theaters and bring their kids. Has he watched his own movie? I can only imagine mom and pop bringing Susie and Johnny to see Anora, only to find that the first 40 minutes were as sexually explicit as Debbie Does Dallas. They would never go to see a film again (though Johnny may have his first wet dream that evening).

I shouldn’t care. I wouldn’t go to most traditional Hollywood output, even if they were of better quality. I am satisfied with small, independent cinema. Yet, for films to flourish and screens to proliferate, there must be movies of broader appeal.

I also don’t have an answer. In all likelihood the cycle will have to repeat itself. Blockbuster hits. Endless remakes, rehashes and reboots follow. The public buys in until it doesn’t and then a lull ensues until it starts all over again. We just have to hope the film industry as we know it survives until things improve.

The expected summer moneymakers don’t bode well. We have another Jurassic Park movie, a film from the world of John Wick (I guess Kenau has had enough), three superhero movies (Superman, the third Fantastic Four reboot and Thunderbolts, whoever they are), the second half of the bloated Mission Impossible finale and Freakier Friday, for all of who have been pining to see Lindsay Lohan return to the silver screen.

The only summer “blockbuster” I am interested in seeing is also a sequel, 28 Years Later. Since 28 Days Later was released 23 years ago, this is clearly not an attempt to rush out a second movie to feed off the first. Plus, Danny Boyle is back at the helm, and I trust him.

I am sure other films currently off the radar will pop up as well. And who knows, maybe some of the other rehashes will be worth the price of admission. For Hollywood’s sake, I hope so. In the meantime, Mishima, a Life in Four Chapters, a Fassbinder retrospective and a slew of other great oldies are coming to the Philadelphia Film Society. Lower the lights and fire up the projector!!!               

We recently bought a new car. While I could write about the inherently terrible nature of making such a purchase, I won’t. Unless you’re a car person – and I definitely am not – you know that feeling of being in way over your head as you try and choose between car models you really can’t evaluate.

As a side note, the only entertaining car shopping experience I had was when I was getting my first car with my father. We took along the Pastor of our church, who doubled as a mechanic. He proceeded to crawl under the car in the midst of the lot, much to the amazement of the salesman and me. When he emerged, he pronounced the car fit and we moved on to the price negotiations.

Now that we had picked out the car and it had been blessed, so to speak, I was very excited. Then my father and the salesman started haggling over the price. I wasn’t paying, so I just wanted it to get over with. They reached an impasse. My father turned to me and said, “Let’s go Tom”. He walked out the door, with me following behind muttering, “but, but….” Sure enough the salesman chased us down as we got into our car and, after the inevitable visit with the Manager, we got our price. The irony of it all, and maybe the lesson too, is that the car we bought was a 1972 Ford Pinto hatchback, designated by Motortrend Magazine as “one of the most infamous cars in automotive history” because of its exploding gas tank.

Anyway, back to our new car. Inevitably, once we agreed to the purchase the salesman sat us down in the car and in a five-minute sprint went through its features. We were shown what each button and lever did, all the various permutations to cruise control, display, audio etc., etc. By the end my neck was sore from mindlessly nodding along.

A couple of months later we had the bi-annual time change. I figured the display on the car would do the same, but it didn’t. My first reaction was anger. How dare the car not perform any function automatically!!! Did this mean that I would have to figure out how to do this myself? Could we have sunk that low?

I dutifully pulled the ridiculous 700-page car manual out of the glove compartment. After searching through the index to discover where they hid the clock instructions (why list it as “Setting the Clock”, instead of just “Clock”?), I perused in amazement as they walked me through two pages of options, including an automatic update. I wondered why they didn’t just set that as the norm and save me the trouble of hefting this monstrosity.

As I flipped through the manual, I realized that I did not know half of what the car could do. Why were there 14 pages on the “Keyless Access System”? Could I really remember the meaning of the 39 indicator lights? What is a “Hill Descent Control System”? Did I actually have a “Traffic Sign Recognition System”, and, if so, why? Am I comfortable with a “Driver Attention Monitor”?

With a sigh, I put the manual back into the glove compartment, where I hoped it would remain for the next 5 years. I know I could have studied the tome and learned all the nuances of this major purchase, but I also knew I did not have the patience or interest to do so. Let’s face it, all I really want is for the car to start when I push the button and for my phone to hook in so I don’t get lost and can listen to whatever Spotify station strikes my fancy. Most everything else is superfluous.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was my life. I interact daily with a myriad of contraptions that I know little about. Right now, I am typing on a powerful computer that I have no doubt can do an amazing array of calculations, permutations, solicitations and alterations. Yet, all I ask it to do is display my e-mail, get me on the internet and run the Word program.

Even in Word my knowledge is minuscule. There are nine tabs at the top of the sheet, not counting “Help” (which rarely is). Under each of these tabs there are sub-headings too numerous to count. While I have been using Word for the last 40 years I doubt if I have used more than 10 of these.

As I looked around, I realized that every electronic device I own, from my phone to my “Smart” TV to my coffee maker, has a plethora of buttons that I have never used and never intend to. Manufacturers pile on features meant to impress, but the vast majority are mere window dressing. Do they really expect us to take the time to learn how to use the “Dehydrate” feature on the Air Fryer, or are they, as I suspect, just giggling at another useless add-on that will drive up the price?     

I should not be surprised at any of this. Even the simplest of these electronic devices is so complex it is beyond comprehension. I have no idea how any of them work. If I was honest with myself when one turns on I would fall to my knees thankful for the miracle that just occurred.

On the one hand this is just an old man’s rant. “Back when I was a boy, we had appliances with only one button, on/off.” However, the truth of the matter is that I didn’t know how anything worked back then either. Modern marvels just highlight and mock my ignorance.

Now and then I get it into my head to actually learn what the contraptions I own do. Needless to say, that urge quickly passes. I must admit to myself that I am content to use 1/3 of the functions of most everything I own. As for the rest, I just have to hope I don’t hit some button accidentally and descend into worlds unknown. The last thing I want is to pull out another manual!!!