I never really liked Scooby-Doo.
There was a time when I
sat down for a marathon of episodes -- my first exposure to the show as a wee
little Voltech. Believe it or not, I was
excited for them. And then I actually
sat down and watched them, and I pretty much went “Ehhhhhhhhhhh…this is kinda
garbage.” I guess I just didn’t have the
artistic sensibilities for it yet.
But those sensibilities
never did develop. Even with the myriad
spinoffs and alternate versions -- there was one about catching thirteen
ghosts, which gave the series a built-in END button -- I never found myself
treating the franchise as anything more than a diversion. Just some background noise to play, or a
last-ditch effort to find something on TV.
Still, Scooby-Doo has long
since found both its legs and its audience, and it doesn’t matter if I’m not a
member of it -- although, as it turns out, I actually think the recent Mysteries Incorporated show is pretty
good. I’ve only seen bits and pieces of it,
but I could see myself watching that more than anything else.
The reason I bring up Scooby-Doo is because it’s proof of an
obvious truth: the past is not
sacrosanct. Just because it’s from
yesteryear doesn’t automatically make it flawless and worthy of some slot in
the hall of fame. It can qualify, sure, but there’s no reason
why the old should get a seat on a golden throne just because it has a familiar
name.
Which brings us
to…well, you read the title, didn’t you?
Off the top of my head,
2014 has seen big-screen reboots of RoboCop,
Godzilla, and --both obviously and damningly -- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
(You can count Dawn of the Planet
of the Apes for being a sequel to a reboot if you want.) One of those I know for sure is awful. One of those barely drew my interest. And one of those something that I’m actively
trying to avoid. But they’re hardly the
only examples out there. The anime world
has seen a reboot of the Sailor Moon anime
with a controversial -- in the eyes of many, derpy -- art style, and there’s
been recent news of plans to make a Digimon
season that brings back the cast of the original series. And that’s setting aside the bucket loads of
video game reboots. Tomb Raider, Killer Instinct, Mortal Kombat, Syndicate, Thief, XCOM, DmC
[TITLE REDACTED], and more.
It’s more than a little
worrisome, if you ask me. The
implication here is that the only way to make something good nowadays is to
just make what’s already been made. It’s
true that not all reboots are automatically terrible (XCOM in particular comes to mind), but it seems like there are
plenty of instances where the minds behind the reboots and such get as far as
the nostalgia-mining and leave it at that.
It’s all too common for them to completely miss the point of the
original, or substitute it for their own (worse) interpretation.
Again, it’s
worrisome. But I don’t think it’s as big
a signal of the end times as others do.
Mindless
nostalgia-mining doesn’t do anyone any favors, but when it’s done well, it can
be beneficial. (Kamen Rider might not be around today if not for the
efforts/quality of the continuity reboot, Kamen Rider Kuuga.) That’s practically the rule Nintendo is built
on; they can (sort of) get away with making Mario games again and again because
A) they’re top-tier in quality, and B) each one is sufficiently different from
the other -- barring the New Super Mario
Bros. series -- to justify a new release.
Still, the important
thing is that when there are those so furiously trying to revive the past, they
end up preserving it. So when there’s news of a (terrible) RoboCop movie on the way, it rebuilds
interest in RoboCop. People might actually strike out to watch or
rent the original movie, and relive the glory without the risk of supporting
something that’ll only get money because of the name.
But it goes beyond that. When you preserve the past, you make it
possible for others to observe and enjoy it.
In this day and age, it is MORE than possible to introduce a new
generation to old standbys. They can see
for themselves what kids of the past once went gaga over, and maybe end up
going gaga over it themselves. If the
rebooted property is distorted beyond belief (like Transformers), there’s little stopping someone from showing them the
secret merit of the old show.
And yet there’s
more. If the rebooted property is
actually as good as, or better than the
original (like My Little Pony), then
it’ll be that much easier to give them a story they’ll welcome into their
hearts. Or, alternatively, they could
just say “screw the reboots”, plop down with YouTube, and sift through clips
and episodes just for the hell of it -- and walk away satisfied.
What I’m getting at
here is that nostalgic properties don’t have to exist just to try and appeal to
the original, aging audiences -- especially if they have to bend themselves
into grotesque forms JUST to try and suit said audience…even though that’s NOT what
they remember and love about the property in the first place. Why people think that they have to superficially "update" or "modernize" the stuff we liked just so we can feel like it "grew up with us" boggles my mind so damn much it turns my brain into a cupful of dice.
This isn't some big revelation. This is incredibly obvious, common sense stuff. The properties -- no, the STORIES of the past can be passed on to those that can
appreciate them. They deserve stories to
call their own. The optimal situation
would be to give them something 100% original (see: Adventure Time), but for what it’s worth, passing the torch is a
good option. Handled with care, it can be beneficial.
Just think about
it. In this day and age you could
practically trip over a new canon worth following. When one ends, there’s another that’s just as
likely to begin. There’s some high quality
stuff out there, no matter where you look.
TV, movies, video games, the works.
And there’s something for every sensibility. I’m still blue over the fact that How I Met Your Mother is over (least of
all because of my not-so-secret crush on Alyson Hannigan), but setting aside
the fact that there are always reruns to relieve the magic, I’ve
started getting into Modern Family. There’s very little stopping me from watching
a high-quality drama if I want one, because there are plenty of options. And as
the saying goes: even if there is no God or Buddha, there is always Kamen Rider.
Which brings us back to
the new Ninja Turtles movie.
I have a hard time
understanding why this thing exists.
Okay, sure, I know there’s always the “because money” reason, but beyond
that…what? Those that are looking for
more Turtles in their life likely
have near-instant access to the episodes of their choice (especially if they’ve
got good enough memories to remember said episodes). Isn’t the fact that the new movie is not the old cartoon(s) enough of a
signal that it’s going to be a betrayal, even before you find out whose name is
attached to it?
I would say that I’m
being unfair and biased about this, seeing as how -- as of this post -- I
haven’t seen the movie. Nor do I intend
to. But days before its theatrical
release, the new Turtles debuted on Rotten Tomatoes at 40% on the
Tomatometer. The night before its
release, at one point it dropped down to 15%. That is one hell of a precipitous drop, and
it tells me at least two things: the only reason Turtles ’14 had a “high” score to start out was because not enough
critics had seen it. And more
importantly, the general consensus is implying that, to the surprise of very
few, it’s really, really bad. I know that reviews are a suggestion of
quality and not a confirmation of it, but when
one review after
another fires
off one
scathing word after another, it’s a good idea to take notice. In my humble opinion, of course. ♪
Megan
Fox has taken some heat recently (if only from indignant forum posters)
about telling off the haters. Her
argument is that even if there are people who are prematurely -- if justifiably
-- writing off Turtles ’14, there are
going to be droves of people who will see it, and outweigh the outcry of said
haters. Much as I hate to admit it,
she’s probably right. The ideal outcome
would be for the movie to make just
enough money so that those who genuinely put effort into it (armies of
animators, for example) can be rewarded.
But current
reports suggest that it’s going to make more than “just enough”.
She’s probably
right. But not definitely.
There’s always the
matter that, even if Turtles ’14 is a
financial success, there’s absolutely no guarantee that it’s going to be an
artistic or (if you’ll let me play that
card) a moral success. Current
reviews paint it as a thing, and not
as a movie. It’s nostalgia-bait --
indulgent design that has a chance of succeeding because of nepotism, not
merit. But the big issue here -- the one
that Fox, Paramount, Platinum Dunes and all the rest may have overlooked -- is
an obvious one.
Turtles ’14 is not the only movie out there right now. We
have options.
Guardians of the Galaxy came out just a week before Turtles, and Marvel’s latest killed it
-- not just with audiences, but with critics, and with the box office. I’d think that it’s going to be in theaters
for more than just a week, meaning that it’s a glowing alternative to the
zeroes in a half shell. But the takeaway
from Galaxy isn’t necessarily that
“you can see it instead of Turtles”,
though that helps. No, the important
thing here is that there are MUCH better movies out there, and whether you’re
conscious of them or not, you can see the elements that make the difference
between a good movie and a bad one.
Is it possible to enjoy
both Galaxy and Turtles ’14? Maybe so.
But what’s important is that a good movie can show you what it’s all
about -- so that when another movie flat-out refuses to offer you those
elements, you can call it out. And Galaxy isn’t the only movie that proves
such an obvious truth. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes showed us
the quality and thought we can have in a summer movie when there’s genuine
effort put in. So even if there is some
undiscerning Joe Plumber out there who’s willing to see any movie, what’s
stopping him from seeing Apes or Galaxy first and realizing how good
those movies are -- to the point where he realizes, hey, maybe the Transformers movies are a bunch of ol’ bullshit?
That’s an optimistic
outlook, I know. But I’m not ready to
believe that an entire culture will just blindly feed on the artistic
equivalent of gruel until the end of times.
Sooner or later this age of indulgent design is going to come to an end. And no amount of familiar names, properties,
or throwbacks is going to keep it afloat.
And that’s all I’m
going to say on that.
I can’t tell you to not
go see Turtles ’14. I can’t (and won’t) judge the movie for
myself, so I don’t know how bad it could possibly be. Beyond that, everyone has their own sense of
will, reason, and most of all, opinions.
I can suggest skipping out on the movie, but I can’t command it. The choice is theirs, just like the choice is
yours.
But once again, I can
at least ask you to think, and hope
that others do the same. If you want to
see the movie -- or the movies to come that will try to do the exact same --
think carefully about why. Think about
who and what you’re supporting. If
you’re actually a staunch follower, then fine.
Go and see it. If you’re on the
fence, think about the reasons why you should see it and the reasons why you
shouldn’t. If the pros outweigh the
cons, then go. If you’re just going to
see it because of the name of the movie, don’t. Don’t jump through their hoops just so you
can get a treat made from scrap metal.
Make your own hoops. Decide
what’s best, and what you want to say.
Think for yourself.
Think about what your
past self would want. Make the kid
inside you happy before anyone else.
