Second act problems

It's interesting how many films Steven Spielberg manages to ruin. And they're always ruined the same way.

The problem with watching one of his movies is you have expectations--he's a good director, and you always think maybe this'll be like E.T., or Raiders of the Lost Ark. The best moments of Spielberg's best films (I'd include Schindler's List, A.I., Minority Report, and Saving Private Ryan) tell you that he really is no hack; the man has potential.

So you walk in expecting something delightful and novel from a Spielberg film. You know he's a smart guy, who can do pretty much what he wants with whom he wants--all the ingredients are there for success.

And yet, I always leave disappointed and dissatisfied, thinking he should've gotten more out of his subject matter. I usually don't think it's a bad movie, per se. After all, he cheats by taking on easy topics full of dramatic potential. War, the Holocaust, the future--I mean, the audience is half-way with him when they walk in through the door.

And his films always start well. He skillfully introduces you to the world he's created, introduces compelling characters, and gets you into the movie quickly.

But then, like a man reminiscing about his glory days at the bar, he doesn't seem to know what to do next once he's got you hooked, except more--much more--of the same. He pulls out all the stops to bowl over the audience; things get louder, come faster, and ultimately he's off building this fantastic house of cards. When all you want is a good story, well-told.

I wonder if Spielberg ultimately respects his movie audience. He often forsakes nuance and in doing so ruins things that could be nice touches. Does he trust us to understand more than what he spells out? Does he feel like we deserve to see him bare his soul?

Or does he want to wrap himself in the mantle of commercially-sucessful director? Not for him is the label of head-in-the-clouds artist, he seems to want to come across as a hard-nosed professional. Maybe he's afraid of being accused of putting on airs, so as a result he sticks things in his films that he imagines blue-collar schmos want.

The problem, though, is he's no Sylvester Stallone, who did have an authentic sense of what the man on the street would stand up and cheer for. Spielberg for a lot of reasons, some self-imposed others not, will never be one of the folk.

Nor is he a Martin Scorsese, who seems to make the films he wants, the way he wants them. You get the sense that Marty works the same with or without the eyes of the world on him, that he doesn't sit in the edit bay conscious of Joe Public looking over his shoulder. Spielberg, I feel, almost makes movies by focus groups, albeit badly-tuned ones.

Steven isn't even George Lucas, whose track record of cringe-inducing moments that mar otherwise pretty interesting movies (he's gotta be doing this on purpose, right--no one could have dialogue that bad by mistake, there's gotta be a deeper meaning here; maybe a statement about the inherent nihilism of lover's talk?) rivals his fellow filmmaker. But Lucas at least is pushing the boundaries of film technology; he's been spending his time and energy on things that film geeks appreciate. Does Spielberg have a fan club for what he's made in the last 20 years?

His latest failure is Terminal. I really wanted to like this movie, and actually enjoyed it in many ways. I always like Tom Hanks, and the storyline--a man outof water manages with the advantage of unlimited time and the goodwill of those around him to make the best of a bad situation--is appealing. And who doesn't appreciate airports as a metaphor for modern life?

But Spielberg does his usual too-cute-by-half act, and the piling-on-too-much thing. As a result, by the end of Terminal you just don't care, you've lost all ability to be empathic with a character who's now gone 10 steps beyond anything we're likely to experience. It's a shame, because the real-life story would've made an interesting film.

I once read a critic who said the thing about great science fiction, like that of H.G. Wells, is that the author asks you to suspend disbelief about one, usually big, thing.

Once you internalize and go along with that one thing--aliens are invading earth; there are two kinds of humans, those that live above and those that live below ground--the rest follows with full interior logic. There aren't any more stumbling blocks or moments where you say what?!

Spielberg, unfortunately, keeps throwing things at you, it's like he's not sure his big thing is enough so he figures I'll just offer plot twists and the feeling this is a BIG FILM with BIG STARS and BIG MOMENTS.

Steven, stop the merry-go-round. Step off it, we know you're a legendary director who can set box-office records.

Go off and make a movie you want to make. Don't worry so much about what we'll think when we watch it, don't try to push our buttons or make us feel a certain way. I'm sure you have interesting things to say.

Photo found in various places online, all uncredited--if anyone knows the photographer/venue, let me know.