A few days ago I was mindlessly scrolling through my Facebook feed, maybe because I’ve been on my longest unemployment streak so far, or perhaps it was simply a case of lazy weekend and I had nothing to do except either immerse myself into some books—on the one hand, I’m reading Edward Said’s Orientalism (good read, by the way. classic-yet-easy to read postcolonial literature for the budding postcolonial); on the other hand, I’m reading José Eustasio Rivera’s La vorágine because for some reason I was invited to a book club—or scroll through social media in a semi-trance state. I have had enough reading of both books during the week, so I chose to go for some mindless scrolling on Facebook.
It would have been a typical, lazy Saturday afternoon — something that would’ve remained the same whether I was employed or not (things would be drastically different if the semester was ongoing and I had graduate classes on weekends), had it not been for this video essay a friend of mine shared on his feed. It was this “video essay” entitled Cinema by Philip Brubaker. It is an entry for the FILMADRID Festival Internacional de Cine.
I am assuming that you watched the video before proceeding, but on the (hopefully) off chance that you did not, I will try my best to summarize and explain it here:
The “video essay” started by quoting famed director Martin Scorsese’s interview with Empire magazine, in which he remarked that Marvel movies are not cinema, and instead compared them to theme parks (a phrase he has since used in subsequent interviews is “amusement park films”). This statement inevitably received some criticism and backlash, particularly and especially from Marvel fans. We will go back to this statement in later, when we further dig deep into Scorsese and his ideas.
The video narrator then declared that modern cinema is toilet paper, since it is, to quote the video, “so common, yet so banal.” He says that in the age of the Internet and streaming services like Netflix, images are merely given away and are readily available to whoever wants it that it loses its value and meaning. Apparently an indictment of the Internet and the streaming services, he says that the Internet has placed all images in an equal footing, blurring the distinction between films/cinema and all the other types of images. To him, modern cinema is toilet paper because it is so common, it is everywhere, yet–particularly referring to the Marvel franchises and franchise films in general–have nothing new, nothing different. What franchise films have, instead, is some level of sameness wherever one looks.
It then says that the abundance, availability, and sameness of these modern films causes one to just merely binge consume content, immediately jumping to the next movie as soon as the first one finishes, without lending a moment or two to think about and reflect on the images they just saw. Just like toilet paper, modern cinema is consumed and immediately thrown away. In the age of streaming and internet, the narrator hopes to find cinema, the art form, alive and well again.
The video made some good points, but it definitely shook me to the core when he compared modern cinema to toilet paper. How can someone make such a comparison? My knee-jerk reaction was to post an update on social media calling out this video and labelling it “elitist,” but as an graduate student deprived of doing research for a month now, I decided to hold my horses and do some further research and much analysis.
“It’s not Cinema, it’s something else:” On Martin Scorsese
Okay, first off: don’t get me wrong. Martin Scorsese is my favorite director of all time. I first came to know his name when I watched his movie The Wolf of Wall Street (2013). I then found out that many of the movies that made their impact on my life, such as The Aviator (2004), Gangs of New York (2002), as well as the classics like Goodfellas (1990) and Taxi Driver (1976) were all part of his long and distinguished filmography. I was converted into a Scorsese fan in an instant. Getting into this analysis of his insights and ideas, therefore, is no easy task.
Around October to November of 2019, Martin Scorsese has always remarked in various interviews and press conferences that Marvel movies are not cinema, since they do not convey the human experience to another human being. He compared them to theme parks, in the sense that they were entertaing but basically lacking in depth. I would like to quote Scorsese, for my summary seems to have not given him justice. When asked about the Marvel Cinematic Universe, he said:
I don’t see them… I tried, you know? But that’s not cinema. Honestly, the closest I can think of them, as well-made as they are, with actors doing the best they can under the circumstances, is theme parks. It isn’t the cinema of human beings trying to convey emotional, psychological experiences to another human being.
Martin Scorsese, Interview with Empire Magazine
It was a comment shared by other directors, such as Francis Ford Coppola, who commented that the Marvel movies were despicable, and that Scorsese’s comment was an understatement. Scorsese would make further remarks within the month to reiterate the same point. In a press conference for The Irishman, he said it again–“it’s not cinema, it’s something else“–and called on filmmakers to defend the movie theaters from “being invaded by it.”
It was seen as a snobbish remark by many people, garnering various reactions not only from fans but also people like James Gunn, director for the Guardians of the Galaxy movies, who framed the comment as a matter of generational taste, as well as Marvel executive Kevin Feige, saying that the appreciation of art and cinema is a subjective matter — “Everybody has a definition of art.“
Scorsese then wrote an op-ed for The New York Times explaining the statement he made and further expounding on his point. So I read and analyzed the New York Times piece and compared it to his other interviews and pronouncements, eventually leading me to make a series of conclusions about what Scorsese meant by such a loaded statement (side note: if ever I do have a Spanish-speaking audience, el artículo se puede leer en español).
In this section, I will try my best to explain the two main points I understood from the op-ed, and state my points of agreement and disagreement shortly thereafter. The two points are: the auteur and his freedom, and cinema and human experience.
The Director is the Master: The Auteur Theory
It’s easy to simply dismiss his statement as condescending, conceited, or downright snobbish without digging deep. The pronouncements of Scorsese, Coppola, and other directors before him who shared the same opinion therefore have to be understood in context.
Scorsese said in his op-ed that the key difference for him and other directors was that they considered cinema as an art form, equal to music, literature, and all the other forms of art. But back then, a debate was raging as to whether this is the case, and Scorsese said they “stood up for cinema” as a true art form. And if it was indeed an art form, who then is the artist?
Their answer was: the director.
Scorsese, Coppola, and the directors they look up to–Scorsese mentioned Ingmar Bergman, Jean-Luc Godard, and Alfred Hitchcock–are and were auteurs (French, “author”), and they subscribe to the auteur theory. Auteur theory holds that the director is at the center of an entire film production; that he has control over the entire process of filmmaking; that the film is the director’s canvas; and that he is main creative force behind the entire film production process.
Auteur theory also holds that, like paintings and songs, the movie is an expression of the author’s style. Therefore, just as composers and painters have their signature style, the film director, or the auteur, must also be “visible” throughout the entire movie; that is, his signature must be readily recognizable in every movie he makes. Scorsese glorifies director Alfred Hitchcock as a prime specimen of the auteur.
The auteur theory therefore implies that in order for the director to create an art form that is truly his own, he has to have the creative freedom to do so, without interference from the executive producers nor anyone from the business side. He has to be in control of everything, regardless of how much (or how much less) it will make in the box office, for the film is first and foremost the auteur’s medium of self-expression. However, modern-day filmmaking, especially within franchise films by big studios such as Marvel and Disney, seems to be different in this regard. Quoting Scorsese:
The pictures are made to satisfy a specific set of demands, and they are designed as variations on a finite number of themes.
They are sequels in name but they are remakes in spirit, and everything in them is officially sanctioned because it can’t really be any other way. That’s the nature of modern film franchises: market-researched, audience-tested, vetted, modified, revetted and remodified until they’re ready for consumption.
Scorsese, “Martin Scorsese: I Said Marvel Movies Aren’t Cinema. Let Me Explain.” The New York Times, 4 November 2019.
He is not despising the movies per se, but rather the way they were made and the system that makes movies that way. He despises the fact that movies nowadays are designed to become box-office hits and to ensure that it does turn out profitable, with almost no regard to the nature of cinema as an art form. Sure, the director may still imprint his signature style in the movies from time to time, but what Scorsese laments is the fact that in modern franchise films, making art takes a secondary place to making profit. The result of market-tested, vetted and re-vetted movies is the seeming repetitiveness, with no space for new and original stories, and this is literally the case with Marvel or DC rebooting their various superhero film franchises with the exact same story and almost no change except that of the actors.
Scorsese further laments that nowadays, this is the only option many people have when going to the movie theaters, with cinema as he knew it being pushed to the corner and movie theaters being attracted to the prospect of sure profit with the franchise films.
It is therefore not an issue of subjectivity nor an issue of generational divides: it is an issue of making space for all art forms in the movie theater.
In this respect, I am inclined to agree with him. This is indeed a sad time for budding directors wanting to showcase their art for what it is–an expression of their artistic souls–rather than a way to make money. Scorsese was not attacking the movies themselves nor the people the seem to enjoy them: instead, his was a sad commentary on the state of film as an art form today, and can be seen an indictment of capitalism’s intrusion into the creation of art.
One may argue that the modern Marvel movies and the idea of market-testing movies are simply about giving what the people want, and that Scorsese sounds elitist for imposing his idea of an art form over what the people want. Just like him, I beg to disagree. If the people are given only one thing to watch, definitely they’ll be forced to accept that. It’s a matter of giving the people more options in the space of the movie theater.
In this aspect, it is therefore not an issue of subjectivity nor an issue of generational divides: it is an issue of making space for all art forms in the movie theater.
Cinema: A Portrayal of the Human Experience
We now turn to the other of Scorsese’s points. I’d like to quote him to get started:
…cinema was about revelation — aesthetic, emotional and spiritual revelation. It was about characters — the complexity of people and their contradictory and sometimes paradoxical natures, the way they can hurt one another and love one another and suddenly come face to face with themselves.
Scorsese, “Martin Scorsese: I Said Marvel Movies Aren’t Cinema. Let Me Explain.” The New York Times, 4 November 2019.
In a BBC Radio One interview, as well as in some other press conferences, Scorsese referred to Marvel movies as “theme park films” or “amusement park films.” To him, it was a different experience from what he understood as cinema. Marvel films are indeed entertaining, but it does not go any further than that. He compared the general atmosphere of movie theaters when Marvel films are shown to that of theme parks, and the movies themselves as the rides. He did not find “soul” in the Marvel films. He did not find the “complexity of people” the auteur films offer. His frequent collaborator, Robert de Niro, also shared the same view, saying:
The technological stuff can only go so far. It’s not going to change other things. If it does to such a point it becomes something that is not what a person is, what a human is.
Robert de Niro, “Robert De Niro: comic book, tech-heavy films “another type of entertainment” to cinema“
The profit-driven studio system notwithstanding, It is easy to dismiss these superhero films as mere spectacle, primarily geared for entertainment, and without anything else to offer. In fact, much like any other mainstream movie, deeper meanings and insights to the human condition are not exactly part of these movies’ marketing schemes. On the surface, and even a few levels down, they seem to be indeed mere spectacle, designed more as an escape from real life than an exposure to it.
However, my main contention against such a dismissively strong opinion is the seemingly outright dismissal of the franchise films as empty, soulless, profit-driven movies, without any hope of exposing the human condition nor sending a message on the social realities we are living in today. Just like any other form of art, overlaps can happen between franchise films and the auteur films, a fact acknowledged by Scorsese himself (“They still overlap from time to time, but that’s becoming increasingly rare”). Do superhero characters have no depth at all? Are they unable to transmit sentiments, desires, or emotions that the average moviegoer can feel?
In Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), after a final fight with the Hydra, Steve Rogers/Captain America was faced with a tough decision to crash the plane he’s piloting into the ocean in order to prevent it from detonating in harming more people — a heroic act of self-sacrifice. While that in itself is something not every human has to face every day, consider who was on the other end of the radio at the time: his girlfriend, agent Peggy Carter, who was communicating with Rogers right up to the moment of his crash. I can only imagine and feel how difficult it would’ve been for agent Carter to be there (albeit through radio) with her lover at his demise.
And let us not forget Thanos, the main villain of the Marvel Cinematic Universe up to Avengers: Endgame (2019). Thanos believed only he can save the world, and to him it is to be achieved by annihilating half the world to lessen the competition for already scarce resources. With the rise of populism, dictators, and right-wing nationalism across the world, as well as the seeming crisis of the liberal order, one cannot help but see Thanos as the embodiment of demagogues, fascists, and their sweet promises of order and prosperity for the people, in exchange for civil liberties, and human rights. This is not only my personal opinion, but the opinion of, say, a colleague of mine in graduate school when we were discussing the merits of this essay a few nights ago, as well as this article.
If the issue is sharing the movie theater space and experience among all the types of cinema, whether it be auteur films or, for want of a better term, “theme park films,” why is there a need to draw the line between these types of films? Why the need to categorize?
Now, one may ask me: Do all people share my opinion or anything I saw beyond the surface in these movies? Does everyone think the same way about Thanos? Did everyone feel the anguish I felt for Agent Carter as she watched (through radio) Steve Rogers die?
I will never know for sure, but it’s more likely that they don’t.
But that in itself is the point I am trying to get across. When the Marvel executive said art is subjective, he did make sense. Art can convey a certain message, but it can also reveal different things to every individual. It can bring out something about one’s self that may or may not be completely distinct from that of the others. Martin Scorsese did not find depth in these Marvel movies, while conversely many kids nowadays would find nothing interesting of many auteur films.
Now, I ask: if the issue is sharing the movie theater experience and space among all the types of cinema, whether it be auteur films or, for want of a better term, “theme park films,” why is there a need to draw the line between these types of films? Why the need to categorize? Can they not coexist in the same space? The range of human emotions can be as large as humanity itself, and the range of how one art form makes us feel is probably a lot more. Making such categorizations about art can be difficult and ultimately futile.
Exclusivity and Value: Is Cinema Toilet Paper?
With that, I now turn to Philip Brubaker’s video essay.
Honestly, I don’t know what to make of this. I watched it almost twenty thousand times (clearly this is a hyperbole) more since the first time, and I have always gone to the conclusion that the video essay indeed was snobbish. But I digress from directly engaging the video essay and will instead begin this section by asking the question:
Does the modern proliferation of cinema through various platforms (such as the Internet) mean that cinema loses its meaning and value?
He makes an excellent point that the Internet has caused a proliferation of images unlike anything ever seen before. Images are everywhere, and at the same time they are at our fingertips as long as there’s an internet connection. To him, this proliferation renders all images meaningless, and mixing cinema into this hodgepodge of pictures will also render it similarly meaningless. But do people really just flush these images out into oblivion to go to the next one? Is this the modern human experience of what he calls a “diarrhea” of images?
I personally cannot see, regardless of which platform you watch them, how the Internet can really degrade movies into the same category as memes and Vine videos.
Perhaps it is true with all other Internet content. Memes, short clips, funny cat videos – all are images that take hold of us every few seconds and then go to the wastepit of nothingness the moment we scroll up. But when we watch movies, does the same happen? Do people no longer reflect on the movies they watch, and simply move on to the next one?
While this can be a subjective experience, I for one am evidence to the contrary, and so is my circle of friends. In movie theaters, on Netflix, you name it — a discussion always follows after we watch a film, 100%. Many of the films we’re talking about only lasts a few minutes in our after-film conversations, but some movies really make so much impact that the sentence hindi ako maka-get over (Tagalog, “I can’t get over it”) gets thrown around in these sessions.
The modern experience of cinema is indeed subjective, but I personally cannot see, regardless of which platform you watch them (Netflix, the movie theater), how the internet can really degrade them into the same category as memes and Vine videos as the video essay claims, when their major difference is their ability to convey to a specific set of audience/s (as we established earlier) a certain emotion or feeling, or reveal a certain truth or aspect of human life or the self to the average moviegoer. Clearly, art forms such as cinema cannot be treated the same way commodities and other economic goods are treated. Quantity does not necessarily imply a loss of quality.
Where then is the comparison with toilet paper coming from? Just because the video essay’s narrator does not like modern forms of cinema? Does such a blanket term cover the same experience for everyone, or only for people with the same taste as them?
Once again I will ask a question of coexistence. If anything, Netflix and the Internet made cinema more accessible to a wider audience. Is accessibility really the enemy? Does the proliferation of movies, brought about by this new accessibility, indeed strip cinema of its “meaning,” whatever that means?
That’s what I call snobbery.
En Garde
The space and face of what we know as cinema is fast changing. New technologies make cinema more accessible than before. New forms of cinema appeal to different audiences, regardless of whether they were planned to be such or not. As cinema evolves right before our very eyes, it is only fitting and proper to ask the question, “what is cinema?“
Martin Scorsese has an answer which to me has since been my personal criterion as well ofnwhat makes cinema:
“I think what makes cinema, to me… ultimately, it’s something that, for some reason, stays with you so that a few years later you can watch it again. Or ten years later you watch it again, and it’s different. In other words, there’s more to learn about yourself, or about life. That’s interesting.
Martin Scorsese, “Martin Scorsese Bashes Superhero Movies (again): ‘it’s the same thing over and over…’“
As to which films make one feel this way about one’s self, or about life itself, there’s not one single criterion for that. One can say Goodfellas really made an impact into their life; to me, one such movie was Richard Curtis’ About Time (2013); for some still, it might be any of the Marvel movies. The human mind is so wonderfully diverse that in the humanities, it’s really hard to create solid rules on what humans are supposed to feel.
Both Scorsese and Brubaker of the video essay lamented the lack of independent, auteur films in modern movie theaters. Both of them were frustrated at the domination of profit-making schemes by the big studios like Disney, and the apparent eagerness of movie theaters to follow them to the ends of the earth. They are both appalled at the seemingly wanton disregard by the modern film industry for the production of cinema as an art form, above all else.
But if we agree that cinema–be it auteur films or film franchises–can be appreciated by different people in wonderfully diverse ways;
if we if we agree that it’s not the movies per se that is the problem, but the desire for sure profit that contributed to the decline of auteur and independent cinema;
if what they (and we) are fighting for is an equal space and opportunity for all forms of art in the space of the communal movie theater; and
if we agree that capitalism and profit-making is ultimately what degrades cinema as an art form,
Why not focus on criticizing the capitalist movie industry instead?
Is the solution really to draw a line and monopolize the word “cinema,” for just one art form?
Is there a need to guard the gates of cinema?
Featured image by Noom Peerapong on Unsplash
Further Reading
Perhaps the first article on auteur theory is the article A Certain Tendency of the French Cinema by Francois Truffaut, himself becoming a legendary director later on. It originally appeared in the 1954 issue of Cahiers du Cinéma, a French film critcism magazine.
This article from Vox further describes the context and the main position of Martin Scorsese vis-a-vis Marvel films.
Imagining Communities 
