We’ve just wrapped up the highest grossing year in history with the movie industry capturing $11 billion in domestic receipts. Lost within the field of hits and flops were common re-occurrences, ideas and motifs that resurfaced consistently throughout the year to make 2013 its own beast, labeling our shared cinematic experience as a moment in time.
Consider this the sabermetrics of the movie world. Taking a closer look helps us understand not only what people wanted at the multiplex this year, but what executives thought the people wanted. Some trends (like the fact that only two wide-release live-action films this year were directed by women) obscure the idea of a film culture united by hearts and minds. Others (eight out of the ten highest-grossing movies this year were franchise films) will seem even more regrettable in hindsight.
But largely, the trends of 2013 weave a more ambitious narrative: that of artists struggling to find new ways to tell old stories, trying and sometimes failing to see what works, a culture still, comparatively, in its own infancy. At worse, this confirms that films don’t happen in a bubble, often borrowing from the same inspirations. At best, it’s another goal post in the journeys of our cinema culture.
What does it say that, in an increasingly technology-obsessed world, we’re drawn to films that strip characters to the barest essentials and trap them in dangerous situations that all analog-era viewers can appreciate? “12 Years a Slave” earned plaudits for refusing to both sentimentalize and politicize its content, instead framing the story as one of survival, a single man against one ghastly institution. Audiences were excited to get lost at sea with “Captain Phillips,” which eliminated any action heroics in showcasing the struggles of one man in the middle of a hostile kidnapping situation (and one could also point to the similar “A Hijacking”). And Robert Redford was simply Our Man, the only character featured onscreen in “All Is Lost,” fighting—and winning—a war against the waves with only his guile. The bells and whistles of “Gravity,” meanwhile, told a very simple story of the struggle of one woman alone in space, bereft of any technology on hand, forced to improvise when stranded in space. It may have been a failure of science that trapped her there, but as she floated in the cold vacuum of space, it was a borderline existential terror, like one sole person floating in oblivion, mirroring how many younger generations symbolize their feelings stripped of the absurd technological advances some now ignore.
The Color Of Black And White
2013 was a year of gorgeous color photography in a number of films both big and small. But what was interesting is that the year in independent film saw a surprisingly strong push into monochrome color schemes, resulting in a number of memorable black and white experiences. It’s doubtful that color would have added to the grace and humor of Greta Gerwig sprinting down a New York City street in “Frances Ha,” or the poetry of a withered Bruce Dern quixotically marching down a busy parkway in “Nebraska.” The classical storytelling of "Much Ado About Nothing” gained a certain classicism from the format, while Randy Moore’s “Escape From Tomorrow” wore its outré status on its sleeve thanks to the lack of color. And Andrew Bujalski’s use of black and white went a long way towards creating one of the year’s most memorable visual motifs in “Computer Chess.” Perhaps Kat Coiro should have went with the flow; her “And While We Were Here” circulated on the festival circuit in gorgeous black and white, but during its release, a colorized version flopped with critics and audiences.
Character Names In 2013 Became A Little Ridiculous
Look, we’re not going to lie: Stacker Pentecost, of “Pacific Rim,” sounds about half-awesome, and half-ludicrous. It would stand out more if 2013 wasn’t a goldmine for bad names. There was a bit more suspension of disbelief required by the time Will and Jaden Smith starred in “After Earth” as Cypher and Kitai Raige. It wasn’t just the fantasy movies either, as it was impossible to keep a straight face during “Prisoners” as grizzled Keller Dover argues with Detective Loki in the case of a missing kid. By the time Philip Seymour Hoffman eye-rollingly introduced himself as Plutarch Heavensbee in “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire” (a real motherlode for dumbass names, that one), we were about ready to check out from movies using dopey names. And some of us still have no idea what the hell a Benedict Cumberbatch is.
How To Destroy Major Cities, The Hollywood Way
More and more, today’s blockbusters feel like love letters to terrorists, deeply embedding the real-life visuals of actual tragedy for cheap thrills. “Pacific Rim” pushed its disaster pretty far, but at least it had some sort of fun attached to it, carefully labeling its carnage as victimless. That wasn’t the case for the somber violence at the heart of “Star Trek Into Darkness” and “Man of Steel,” both of which trafficked in 9/11-style shock and awe where characters fought, and then embraced, over the corpses of thousands after the massive destruction of heavily-populated cities. Even though “Ender’s Game” went on to critique that very mindset, it was still hard to watch that film’s disquieting action climax.
And Co-Starring The White House
Every year or so, Hollywood gets the same weirdly specific idea twice, and this year that involved two shoot-em-ups taking place inside the White House. Both Gerard Butler and Channing Tatum were heroes strapped with bullets in “Olympus Has Fallen” and “White House Down.” But it’s likely neither spent as much screentime near the Oval Office as Cecil Gaines, the protagonist of “Lee Daniels’ The Butler.” By the time the Joes were blasting through the White House to save America from an impostor President in “G.I. Joe: Retaliation,” it seemed like the hub of the American government needed a break for once.
Wannabes With Cash
In this year’s movies, no one was having less fun than those with money. The highs of “The Wolf of Wall Street” and “The Great Gatsby” showcased a sense of extravagance and opulence that felt innately American, and altogether vulgar. The truth was, we were more like the children trying on Gucci in “The Bling Ring,” or the flopsweat-drenched phonies of “American Hustle,” desperate to reach some height we didn’t quite understand. Often the lows involved the pathetic sight of Cate Blanchett clinging to her status symbol like a life vest in “Blue Jasmine,” or a coked-up Dwayne Johnson handling a suitcase full of spare change in “Pain And Gain.” More often, it was our license to engage in class warfare, as it was in “The Purge” and, in a more abstract sense, “Spring Breakers.” And sometimes, we saw it from the perspective of “This Is The End,” where Seth Rogen and company had to face down the Rapture with nothing but their sense of entitlement, openly, gleefully acknowledging their disposability.