For some people the announcement of each Oscar is edge of the seat stuff. Me? — well, I can happily wait until the next day to hear which films won what categories. There’s no real advantage in knowing the results as they happen.
My movie habits might be — are, actually — considered irritating by others. I happily watch favorites over and over and over again while shunning the latest blockbusters, justifying this behavior with ‘I pick up something new each time’ or other evasive lines.
Right now I’m finishing up the HBO series “Band of Brothers” for perhaps the 25th time. I’ve watched “Lincoln” on at least seven occasions, the black and white classic “Twelve O’Clock High” a few more than that and the musical “1776” every summer since it hit the big screens back in the early 1970s. Even though 20 years have passed since I sat down to an evening of Mel Gibson in “Gallipoli,” I’m approaching double digits. With a clunker like “Midway,” I know just when to hit the fast forward button to skim over the aimless subplots and Charlton Heston’s vague attempts at acting.
The greatest films ever — “Casablanca” and “The Outlaw Josey Wales,” obviously — would end up in the DVD tray once a week, if I were allowed by others to slip into such a rut.
Certainly you’ve caught on to a theme. As a student of history, I can’t help but latch onto the retelling of moments from the past, the biography of some key figure or a bit of cinematic time travel. Yeah, I know the two listed as favorites are fictional. But the first gives a rare reminder of Vichy and Josey Wales opens with an accurate portrayal of the brutalities of that bloody border war between (and within) Missouri and Kansas that began before the Civil War and continued throughout.
Hollywood’s attempts to recreate the past have not been without controversy, however. If there’s a recurring theme guiding this year’s Oscar’s commentary, it’s the factual flaws in historical dramas like “Selma” or “The Imitation Game.”
If you are fortunate enough that more substantive reading took up your time, forcing you to miss out on the ‘controversies,’ the first film turned Lyndon Johnson into a civil rights villain (in reality he was very sympathetic to the cause) and the second suggested post-war Soviet intrigue (that never happened).
Of course, stretching the truth, glossing over inconvenient facts, omitting large batches of evidence — none of this is new to Hollywood. Writers and directors excel at storytelling rather than an academic commitment to accuracy. Besides, it’s almost impossible to cram the life of Patton, the full scope of Gettysburg or the countless arguments leading to the Declaration of Independence into a two hour time slot. Even in a great tale like “*61,” filmmakers gloss over the fact that Bob Cerv started the season with the Angels before making his way onto the Yankees’ roster.
So liberties are taken.
Come to think of it, Alan Alda starred in a film called “Sweet Liberty” addressing this habit. But I’ve only seen it once, so I couldn’t really say more.
Personally, I don’t mind it when Hollywood condenses material to fit the attention spans of filmgoers. If a movie stays true to the spirit of things, only the most pedantic would quibble. I used to forgive some misinformation, provided the film got as many of the details as possible right.
Of course, my standards plummeted over time. If a soldier had to reload his weapon, that was often enough to satisfy. Far too many films turned eight-round clips into endless sources of hot lead.
What irks me is when filmmakers upend truth. “Mississippi Burning” is a fine example, where Hollywood decided white law enforcement agents were the true heroes of America’s civil rights movement. In the south I experienced as a toddler, the FBI told a black family frantic after someone shot at their kids as they played in the front yard to move activities to the back yard, with an implied ‘stop pestering us about this.’
Perhaps that’s why the folks behind “Selma” turned LBJ into a heavy, against the weight of evidence — it was a chance to redress earlier wrongs with another wrong.
And, after all, two wrongs make a right, if I remember correctly.
There is, however, a danger to all this misinformation. Multiple studies suggest that people remember fictional details from a Hollywood take on history. Very quickly, the human mind transform these bits into a version of the past that is inaccurate, yet firmly held. One study from 2009 found that students provided with real information on a subject, followed by a feature film covering the same ground and rife with fictional twists, converted roughly one-third of the movie material into fact on a subsequent exam. There’s little discernment between a credible source and one trying either to entertain or manipulate.
Think we’re not that gullible? Then why is it I can still belt out the original Big Mac jingle? Why do companies rush to advertise on television or place their product in the hottest films? Why do politicians stung by an investigation blame the media repeatedly? Why do shills hammer home outright lies (Obama’s birthplace, for example) or discredited ideas (that global warming is a myth, that immunization causes autism, that jobs are created from the top down and so on)? They know people will learn the brand or repeat the mantra.
For some reason information planted on screens big or small and repeated ad nauseam quickly becomes part of our learned world.
Yep, I can recite the exchange between Josey Wales and Ten Bears, skits from “Hogan’s Heroes” and the impassioned tune John Adams sang the night before all Founding Fathers gathered to sign the declaration.
Oh, right — it didn’t happen like that.
