Okay, okay, so we’ve established that John Carter and Green Lantern have nonsensical stories and flat characters…but who cares, am I right? These are big sci-fi action spectacles! We come for the adrenaline pumping hell-yeah moments! All that other stuff is just what you fast-forward past on the Blu-Ray!
stultifying as the character scenes were in these movies, nothing could have
prepared me for how profoundly boring
the action scenes were. Matthias
Stork has edited together an excellent series of video essays about how poorly
shot, poorly edited and generally chaotic action movies are today. But at least some of the sequences he
features were well-written, before the directors messed them up. What has become more and more common,
however, are action scenes that die on the page.
The main problem, in a word, is melee. With the help
of CGI, writers know that directors can simply throw whole armies at each other and let them
lash out wildly at each other for twenty minutes. Why put one thing onscreen when you can put everything? But watching a hundred Green Lanterns shoot beams at a
yellow blob isn’t very interesting, nor is watching a thousand green Martians
hack away at a thousand red Martians.
Yes, in the old days, there were budgetary reasons to cut
away from the main action, but there were also story reasons. We can only invest ourselves in the goals of the main character, and
that goal can’t just be “to win”.
A good action sequence must be broken down into a series of mini-goals,
with lots of ups and downs: shifting tactics, surprises, reversals, etc. An action scene is a mystery scene: the
mystery of “how can I overcome this opponent?” so the hero should be gathering clues
the whole time.
Which leads us to another CGI-inspired problem, the
villains are just way too big. In the book, John Carter defeats a
normal-sized white ape bare-handed, which makes for a thrilling action
scene. In the movie, he defeats
two 50-foot high white apes, which is just boring. In order to root for a hero, we have to be right in there
with him, helping him figure out his next move. We have to have some sense of the strengths and weaknesses
of the villains while we root for the hero to overcome the former and exploit
This may sound counter-intuitive: defeating one 6-foot ape
is bad-ass, so it should be more bad-ass to defeat two 50-foot apes…but no. The first feels like a man-to-man
fight, which triggers our primitive instincts and gets our adrenaline pumping. The second is clearly a man vs.
effect fight, which just makes us idly wonder how big the budget was.
The ultimate bad guy in John
Carter (who wasn’t in the book at all) is literally a god: he can fly,
teleport, read minds, turn invisible, turn intangible, and create laser guns
out of thin air. How are we
supposed to root for anybody to defeat this guy? (And don’t ask me how or if he did get defeated, I was totally
lost by that point.)
Likewise in Green
Lantern, the yellow blob defeats every other Green Lantern simultaneously,
then goes on to destroy whole planets, but when the new rookie Green Lantern
faces it, he just says, “I dunno, why don’t I try to push it into the
sun?” And yup, that works. Like John Carter,
he never investigates anything, never discovers any hidden weakness, never
learns anything new from experience…he just keeps saying, “Maybe this will work” and it
pretty much always does.
So I could go on for several more weeks about the flaws of these movies, but I’ll go ahead and call an end to this postmortem. I watched them so that you don’t have to. Heed the wisdom of my scars.