It seems every day a new reboot or sequel is given the green light or drops on the big screen and the streamers. How badly do audiences really want them?
In the space of a few weeks, we’ve had Dune 2, a new Ghostbusters film, a Road House reboot, a Beetlejuice sequel teaser, a Happy Gilmore 2 announcement, a trailer for a new Alien movie and a much (much) derided trailer for a long-gestating The Crow reboot.
If you’re looking for success then it would seem Dune: Part Two has done decent numbers for a franchise that lends itself very much to a more cult audience (despite the gargantuan budget). Sure by an MCU (peak era) metric, Dune 2 has accrued chicken feed with a mere $565 million (and counting) dollars worldwide. On the flip side, Ghostbusters: Frozen (Empire) Creativity has been met with mediocre reviews (we’ll see how it punches soon enough).
What seems to be clear is that films based on established IP are monopolising the production slates for most major studios now. It would also be easy to say that the majority of sequels, reboots, remakes, whatever the hell we call them now are bombing. Are they tanking because audiences who grew up on the original Ghostbusters aren’t interested in a reboot, and the lure isn’t appealing enough to young audiences?
I’m 42. I don’t care about seeing Slimer again or watching Bill Murray being prodded to his mark to phone in an unenthusiastic performance. Are Gen Z as attracted to the proton pack as I used to be? I’d argue not and you could well say the same about the ever-dwindling appeal of Star Wars which has alienated its long-standing audience whilst failing to really attract the kind of young audiences it historically magnetised to become a one-time marketing and merch phenomenon.
The general consensus at the moment suggests that Hollywood’s big-budget films are losing money and being propped up by a handful of hits (such as the unexpectedly astounding returns for Barbenheimer). It’s clear that unnecessarily obscene amounts are being spent but also that there’s very little desire to gamble on originality. Where something like Dune may differ is the sheer scope the lore had to potentially appeal to a new audience with the only prior big-screen version being David Lynch’s divisively quirky epic.
Meanwhile, the promise of continued success in the indie and mid-level budget range, and world cinema, hasn’t become as prominent as we may have expected in the past five years. A number of popular foreign language films suggested that big-screen audiences might actually have the patience to read the subtitles. A successful run of A24 and Blumhouse releases also suggested that indie studios could make films for reasonable budgets, even attract named talent, and score tidy sums on the big screen before the inevitable landing into streamers.
So where’s the next A24? Or Blumhouse? A reluctance from film investors makes it tough unless you delve into the micro-budget realm hoping to score a breakout like Skinamarink or Art the Clown’s Misadventures (which have become a popular franchise now). Even Winnie the Pooh’s transition from cuddly bear to minuscule budgeted terroriser has effectively birthed a shared universe right at the point (for tentpole level at least) that shared universes seemed to have taken a turn down Dead-End Alley.
Scott Chambers and Rhys Frake Waterfield of Jagged Edge are still only operating a fraction of the budget of an MCU film (like maybe a dent in the catering bill for a Marvel opus) with their Poohniverse and the gamble has far surer returns and enough legs to at least see out this phase (and having worked with them multiple times they’re great and deserving of a good run).
Working in the low-budget realm myself, that drive to make challenging and original content isn’t really there among the moneymen. Everyone is following trends, doing what they think will sell. This is why so many sub-$1 million budgeted films are generally horror, or the $1-5 million budget range are your typical Mel Gibson/Frank Grillo movies of the week. It’s either well-established public domain characters and creature flicks in horror or evergreen stories (like the innumerable low-budget variations on John Wick, which was never that original) within the action genre.
As it currently stands, we’re not as likely as things stand to see the next Tarantino, Shane Meadows, Marty Scorsese, or whatever cinematic voice who began in low-budget cinema. Again, diminishing returns are leading to ever-dwindling budgets and yet the recognition never occurs…”are we giving audiences what they actually want?”
Returning to the contentious The Crow reboot, Alex Proyas’ rightfully suggests there’s more than a hint of cynicism in revisiting the character of Eric Draven made so iconic by Brandon Lee. He brought a counterculture, underground comic to life brilliantly, in a film that cost him his life. Reboots/remakes can generally go one of several ways. You copy what the original did and inevitably fail. You try and be different but create something that’s wholly generic by comparison (which judging by the trailer for the Bill Skarsgard-led reboot, is what the new film has done). Or you do something different that actually feels fresh? The last one is the road least taken. In fact, it’s barely felt the rubber of soles upon its tarmac.
The Crow reboot seems as if it’s a cast-off from a time of films like Max Payne and Hitman. So intent on sidestepping elements of the original, it seems to have accidentally become derivative of terrible video game adaptations (with a hard on for The Matrix) and populated by characters who also feel outdated (whilst the original perfectly captured the grunge aesthetic of the time). Not only has there been almost no public desire to see it, they’ve also come out 15 years too late but the final product could yet surprise us and Skarsgard is always interesting to watch.
Speaking of generic, 2024’s Road House dropped to much hullabaloo, straight to Amazon. Between the director, producers and stars, no one could quite agree whether or not a theatrical release had ever been promised. In the end, it dropped to generous reviews for a film that wore the mask of a fun and irreverent romp but really felt half-cocked and preoccupied with the wrong things (such as the jarring ‘revolutionary’ fight sequences).
To hell with characters who arrive and almost instantly feel redundant, to plot threads that go nowhere, and to Conor McGregor’s excruciating turn (is it effective in the right way?). Gyllenhaal as ever, gamely tries to elevate proceedings but was probably preoccupied with keeping his abs as defined as possible. The Florida Keys setting was a great variation on the original, giving the opening half its own personality but again, too many cul-de-sacs and characters who get left by the wayside to ultimately care.
The point is, the original was great. Not a masterpiece by any stretch but the love story plays out effectively. Character deaths have an impact in the film and the rough and tumble simplicity of the fights still pack a punch. Likewise, it’s an era where you’d have Dean Cundey as your DOP and Michael Kamen scoring, bolstered by a Jeff Healey soundtrack. The original was received far less favourably by critics in 1989 than the remake had now. Of course, it’s been reappraised hugely over time, bolstered particularly by Patrick Swayze’s aloof magnetism and a brilliant villain in Ben Gazzara. The remake probably owes a debt to the original for nostalgia bumping up a review here and there, ignoring a messy-as-all-hell structure (which in fairness is a common trait in modern studio genre movies).
Was there a great clamouring for a remake? Not necessarily, and a theatrical release in truth would likely have resulted in disappointing returns. In streaming, it’s a perfectly passable piece of content as I’m sure The Crow reboot will eventually become. However, we wanna save the big screen here, don’t we? Is it enough just making and releasing a film where the main strength lies in your film asking the audience, “Remember this character you (or your dad) used to like? Well, they’re back, baby!”?
With subscription-inclusive content on streamers so hard to really quantify the value of, it still seems like a bad business model for Netflix to make $200 million movies even if they’re making original content and trying to launch their own franchises (such as Red Notice). However, will Road House accrue enough in ad revenue and new subscriptions to pay off the hefty amount Amazon has spent on the picture (including a beefy marketing campaign)?. Things were so much simpler with box office receipts, VHS/DVD sales and rental numbers.
Sometimes of course there is a clamour for more. Beetlejuice has awaited a sequel for 36 years. In that time we’ve seen Tim Burton peak and decline as a creative powerhouse which may have poured water on the flames somewhat, but once it was announced with Michael Keaton returning to his iconic role, the excitement did gather a bit more.
There’s one significant reason that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is more enticing than the next Ghostbusters sequel. Bustin hasn’t made us feel good in recent years, with three underwhelming modern reboots/sequels/whatever. The juice is loose this year but thankfully not off the back of a recent dud. We’ve not been burned. We may well be and the likelihood it hits par with the original, as with most IP resurrections is slim but I’ll be honest, the sight of Keaton back in costume with the old locations returning does pique my interest. I’ll be saying his name three times, that’s for sure.
Not merely an issue confined to franchises and sequels/reboots but if audiences are becoming tired of this constant recycling it’s largely down to how many are poor. Films that are pumped out or messily cobbled together are put out with regularity. Sometimes a film feels like a vase that’s been dropped on the floor and haphazardly glued back together, with stray pieces of other things sometimes stuck on and then placed crudely onto the shelf. Usually glued together by a focus group of execs who each think they know how it should look. Once a vase, now a rustic spitoon that’s been filled to the brim.
The answer sounds simple. 1: Make better films and you don’t need to constantly take the easy road (the sequel expressway) and 2: if you wonder why so many sequels aren’t giving the returns hoped, see point 1.
Are you fed up with sequels and reboots? Do you wish they were better or would you prefer original films? Let us know on our social channels @FlickeringMyth or reach out to me on Instagram @JolliffeProductions…
