To Remake or not to Remake?

When Frank Oz announced he was directing a remake of Bedtime Stories in 1988 (eventually released as "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels"), a reporter asked him why he would bother remaking a mostly forgotten box office flop. Oz replied that those are the only films worth remaking; "there's no point in remaking a film if they got it right the first time."

We all know that Hollywood in general doesn't necessarily agree with Frank Oz. No movie is truly safe from Hollywood's remake machine, no matter how much the original is considered a classic. Case in point: In 1995, Sydney Pollack announced that his next film would be a remake of none other than Casablanca, starring Harrison Ford in the Humphrey Bogart role. Fans of the original movie screamed heresy, but it was only after the box office flop of Sabrina -- another Pollack/ Ford remake of a Bogart film -- that this plan was abandoned, and then only out of an obvious fear of commercial failure, rather than artistic respect for the original.

Is Frank Oz right in his opinion that good movies shouldn't be remade? Ostensibly, his opinion sounds wiser than Hollywood convention, but I'd counter that there is no steadfast rule; whether a film "should" be remade (and by this I mean whether a remake would have artistic value) can really only be made on a case-by-case basis.

To illustrate my reasoning, I'd like to take a look at two movies with Internet rumors of "remake." Both movies are entertaining films with a mixture of drama, humor, suspense, and science fiction that contrasts concepts of past, present and future: Back to the Future and Westworld.

Now, before I go any further, let me assure my fellow Back to the Future fans: In this case, the Internet rumors are just that, Internet rumors, with no basis in fact whatsoever. They are fueled by one thing and one thing only: speculation, sparked by IMDb postings comparing the movie with 17 Again, and openly wondering if a remake would see that movie's star, Zac Efron, in the role of Marty. It bears repeating: There is no truth to the rumor whatsoever!

That being said, I can see why people would speculate about a remake. We are now considerably closer to the year that the movie considered "the Future" than we are to what it considered "the Present," a fact which makes some of the questions concerning such a hypothetical remake intriguing; what types of culture shock would a 2010 teenager experience in the year 1980?

Still, I have to reject a remake of Back to the Future as a legitimate artistic enterprise. I originally thought that a remake could succeed only if they kept Gale and Zemeckis's Oscar-nominated screenplay, more or less word for word. Then I reflected on how many other elements of the film are just right: Robert Zemeckis's inspired direction, Alan Silvestri's suspenseful theme music, the way the songs so perfectly reflect their respective time periods, Christopher Lloyd's iconic performance as Doc. I could go on. My inescapable conclusion is that Back to the Future is as close to perfection as a movie can get; other films may match it, but none surpass it. Quite simply, I cannot imagine any circumstances in which a remake could come even close to meeting the original's artistic value. Even an attempt at creating a nearly exact duplicate would probably fail, as Gus van Sant's shot-for-shot remake of Psycho illustrates all too clearly.

Westworld is a different story. Granted, I love the movie -- not as much as I love Back to the Future, but Westworld is a lot of fun if you can get past the slow pace. Still, there are several factors that make me interested in a potential remake. First of all, the film is more dated. While Back to the Future is at once very 80s and yet somehow also still very contemporary, Westworld is simply too much a product of the 70s, from the massive computers used by technicians in the film, to the 70s 'stache on Richard Benjamin -- and no amount of digital remastering for the DVD can hide the grainy cinematography. (And speaking of how dated the film is, how amusing is it that the genius technicians of Westworld are baffled by the very concept of a "technological failure much like an infectious disease"? In our modern world, when even the most noviced computer user is familiar with the concept of computer viruses, the Westworld technicians' puzzlement seems laughably quaint.)

More to the point, Westworld is a less precise film. Think about how many aspects of Back to the Future -- everything from major plot points to minor sight gags -- depend on precise attention to detail. The more you pay attention -- both to the dialogue and to what you see on the screen -- the more you get out of it. Much of this would probably be lost in any attempt at a remake. Yet the appeal to Westworld lies mainly in its main ideas, that there is an amusement park that creates a seemingly exact duplicate of the Old West, and that a mysterious technological breakdown causes the robots who occupy the Western town to turn into physically superior killers. Even if you consider the original's climactic chase sequence as indespensible to any potential remake, there are any number of ways in which all of this can be played out. I, for one, would be very interested in seeing how modern filmmakers would interpret the story's contrast between "past" (in the form of Westworld itself and its fellow historically themed resorts) and "future" (in the form of the control room and other aspects of the "outside world" in whatever year that the story takes place).

I guess my conclusion is that even good movies can be remade with artistic value, as long as there is honestly room for improvement or further exploration of the concept. With a nearly perfect film like Back to the Future, the mere concept of remake seems blasphemous. With a flick like Westworld -- there's still much to be explored.

Not too long ago, I had a conversation with my friend Neil about whether people -- not any particular people, but people in general -- are generally good or generally bad. My argument is that as much as we like to think of people as generally good, they really aren't. I pointed out how many roommates -- which could be taken as a random sampling of the population -- have been horrors, and added as strictly anecdotal evidence that our friend John has also had remarkable bad luck with roommates.

"Well, roommates generally suck," Neil agreed, but in a manner that implied that they're really the exception to the rule.

I then cited Internet chat rooms and message boards as further evidence, pointing out how often people use the mask of anonymity and the assumption of geographical distance as opportunities to say astoundingly antagonistic things to each other, for little to no reason. (Typical [and actual] example: Poster #1 says, "I liked this movie," and poster #2 immediately replies, "that's because you're an idiot.") Neil posited that the Internet is probably not an accurate reflection of humanity, since said anonymity and geographical safety from their targets tend to make people bolder than they would otherwise be, but I disagree with Neil's conclusion; if all it takes is the thought "this guy doesn't even know who I am, and even if he did, he can't get to me" to make someone comfortable with cruelly and needlessly insulting somebody, then I don't see how that isn't a reflection of that person's humanity -- and I would argue that the fact this happens so insanely often is a reflection of humanity in general.

I also pointed out how the culture of the automobile has allowed the concept of road rage to evolve from the rare, news-worthy occurrence, to an everyday term. I can't remember the last time I drove somewhere where I didn't hear somebody lean on the horn furiously at somebody (no, not necessarily me every time), and as for more extreme forms of road rage -- well, I've been the victim of a road rage stalker, and so has my sister. And as for even more extreme forms of road rage . . . well, is anybody really shocked anymore when they hear or read about someone who was attacked or even killed by an angry driver? We disapprove, yes, but as a society, we haven't been shocked by such events in a long time; they're just too commonplace to maintain our shock, or even, sometimes, our interest. Happens all the time.

And while we're on the topic of driving, think about how many times you've had to slam on your brakes because some idiot zoomed in front of you just to move ahead in the line by one car space, just to catch that one traffic light only to stop at the next one a block away. It's no overstatement to observe that plenty of drivers routinely choose to risk their lives rather than allow fellow motorists the slightest bit of courtesy -- and if you think that's an exaggeration, just take a moment to reflect on what had happened if you had been just a bit slower to slam on that brake when you got cut off the other day. Maybe they didn't deliberately weigh the potential consequences of cutting you off, but on some level, that driver did make a concious decision that, given the choice between letting you drive safely and risking a serious accident so they can cut you off, yes, it's worth the potential carnage.

Neil admitted that too many drivers "become different people" behind the wheel, but for me, this is too similar to the "not a true reflection of that person's humanity" argument. They become different people? No, not literally. What we really mean when we say this is that people let loose a different (perhaps usually hidden) side of their personality behind the wheel. When viewed at in this light, a person's rude and overly aggressive behavior while driving is very much a reflection of that person's humanity. That may not be how they behave with their coworkers or families, but give a person that same dual protection of anonymity (because who really writes down licence plates on a regular basis?) and distance (by the time you have a chance to emotionally recover from most road ragers, the culprit is long gone), and people realize, just as they do online, that they can get away with horrific behavior.

That's what it's all about. I almost said that people feel that they have an excuse, but the sad thing is, Internet trolls and road ragers don't even feel the need for excuses, all they need is the chance to get away with their behavior, and they routinely indulge in acts of random cruelty.

And make no mistake, use of the word "cruelty" is by no means an exaggeration. Random name-calling online, or shouts of "hey asshole!" from passing cars are bad enough, but I've seen far worse. I can't tell you how many times I've visited online depression support groups and found anonymous users encouraging people to kill themselves. I cringe at how easily and quickly even the most minor disagreements on the IMDb can degenerate into people insulting each other's intelligence. And God help us all with any chat room or message board involving politics or religion, and how much they're filled with messages from people who enthusiastically declare how everyone who disagrees with them is worthy of death and Hell. (Again, I assure you, this is no exercise in exaggeration, I see this all the time.)

While I am touched by Neil's faith in humanity, it also saddens me a little bit. By the time the discussion with Neil was reaching an end, I pointed out to him that I had provided not one but several different ways to observe how people behave cruelly to each other on a routine basis, and he had more or less dismissed every one as being unimportant for various reasons. Why did this disturb me? I guess because I agree with Andrew Delbanco when he said, "the line between explanation and excuse is always a thin one."

Maybe this is a part of our problem. It's one thing for Neil to forgive people out of his generosity of spirit. But the problem is when we, as a society, come to not only expect such behavior, but even to explain it away -- because Delbanco is right, the result is too often a blurring of that line between explanation and excuse -- right when we need explanations the most and excuses the least. Yes, it might be important to understand why we do what we do. But once we start excusing unacceptable behavior, we serve only to perpetuate it.

The Left, the Right, and the War of Hatred

I'm a Democrat, I'm registered as a Democrat, and with the obvious exception of the most recent mayoral race, I've always voted Democrat. It should therefore be obvious that I lean left. I actually like to consider myself a centrist, but there's a problem with this attitude, because the right-wingers, in their insistent attitude that anyone who disagrees with them even a little must be the Enemy, don't allow room for centrists. I'm not saying that the left wing is blameless, far from it; we certainly have our share of antagonists, extremists, nuts, and people who, out of dishonesty, hatred, stupidity, or some combination of the three, gleefully re-write history, ignore the facts of our present, and color the truth during political debate. My observation, though, is that these types of people are generally considered an exception and an embarrassment by most left-wingers, while the right wing -- or maybe just the most vocal representation of the right wing -- seems content to indulge, and even participate in, such extremism as a matter of routine.

I'd like to reference the online message board Topix (http://www.topix.net/forum/source/stamford-advocate/TLL138008AO2O963G) for one case in point: Sarah Darer Littman wrote a letter to the Stamford Advocate -- a letter which many Republicans would find incendiary. Littman is expressing an opinion and backing it up by facts, which is fine. On Topix, Republican user "Jeff" expresses his difference of opinion, which is also fine, but then starts putting words in Littman's mouth: "In Ms. Littman's view we should shun everything having to do with the founding fathers."

Jeff's key point of contention (other than the fact that Littman is one of them damn liberals) seems to be over Littman's response to a Newt Gingrich quote. Democrat user Annoyingly Practical replies with an angry but well-reasonsed clarification of his interpretation of Littman's use of the quote: "Littman's (fairly obvious) point is not to attack the religious, but to question what she sees as Gingrich's attack on the secular; she sees Gingrich's quote as an example of an exclusionary attitude on behalf of the Republican Party." Read Annoyingly Practical's post for yourself to judge its merit. Then look at Republican user Paul's response: "It's funny how liberals have no shame for expressing anti religious bigotry. The religious right is far closer to the beliefs than than liberals to the founding fathers. People, like Littman are pro abortion and pro gay agenda. If she wants that as national policy, the degenerate Democrat party awaits." A few pages later, Annoyingly Practical says that he doesn't understand Paul's response because, as Annoyingly Practical points out, "There is not a single thing in my comments that can, by any stretch of reason, be interpreted as 'anti religious bigotry.'" Republican user Time to Go replies, "you do not understand because you are stupid."

There is undeniably an escalation of hostilities here. Is there any ambiguity at all over which side is the antagonistic one?

In the national forum, there's no denying that both sides have their hypocrites. But I again note a key difference here, how hypocrisy seems to exist on the fringe of the left wing, but at the heart of the right. Take a look at how our nation views the two most recent presidents, Bush and Obama. Democrats and Republicans alike rallied around Bush during our moment of crisis after 9/11, and it was only after several military, moral, and political missteps that Bush found himself under attack by the Democrats -- and rightfully so.

Can you honestly imagine so many Republicans rallying around a Democratic president in time of crisis? We don't need a hypothetical situation to test this scenario; when Obama took the oath of office amidst a terrible economic downturn, Republican anti-Obama rhetoric flooded the Internet (and this is no exaggeration) before Inauguration Day was even over. It's one thing to, because of your political beliefs, point out or even predict failure for a U.S. President. But to actually, openly root for such failure is another thing entirely. This is no small distinction -- all the Republicans openly praying for Obama's failure as President are essentially hoping for hard times for the nation -- just so that one of their own will come to power come the next election. This prioritization of the Good of the Party over the Good of the Nation is astounding to me in its brazen backwardness, especially in light of the Republican insistence that they are the more patriotic party.

Even those who are not so openly selfish still tend to exhibit an hypocrisy of astonishing proportions. The same people making countless excuses for Bush's many failures exhibit a petulantly unforgiving impatience with his successor; as one SNL sketch accurately summarized (and I'm paraphrasing here, I don't have the sketch memorized), "you've been President for nearly thirty days, isn't it time you turned this national depression around?" Political agendas are one thing, but let's be at least a little realistic. When the Dixie Chicks insult Bush, they become outcasts -- not because of their political views, their Republican haters claim, but because they insulted the President. Yet these very same people have no problem attacking a Democratic president from Day One.

All of this reflects the aspect of right-wing politics that alienates me more than any one political view: a free indulgence, and even dependency, on pure, unadulterated, even proud, hatred from the Right Wing of America. (http://www.idrewthis.org/d/20041006.html) As I observed earlier, the left is not without its share of hate mongering, but it seems to be the right who's really basing its very existence on hatred these days -- hatred of gays, hatred of immigrants, hatred of liberals, and most of all, an overwhelming, unashamed hatred of anyone who dares voice an opposing opinion. This hatred blinds Republicans to what should be considered inrguable fact and objectivity. Look again at the dialogue between Littman, Jeff, Practical, Paul, and Time to Go. Jeff looks at an attack on extremist Gingrich as proof that Littman wants to "shun everything having to do with the founding fathers," while Paul even more clearly cries "fire" where there isn't even any smoke, somehow interpreting Practical's completely benign post as "anti religious bigotry." And finally, Time to Go takes it a step even further by leaving behind the political statements and jumping right to the blatant insults. The saddest thing isn't the behavior of these Republicans, it's that it's so damn unsurprising.

The Movie Man's Next Movie

On Sunday, Doug and I held auditions for his series Scared Stiff and my newest screenplay, The Return of Dracula. Out of the dozens of people who initially said they wanted to audition, five people showed up -- two men and three women. This sucked for me, because, not even counting the extras the script requires, I need to cast seven male speaking roles. In other words, even if I put the women in drag and cast every single person who auditioned, I still wouldn't have enough people. So I launched into "creative" (i.e. "desperate") casting mode, recruiting people from my D&D group, my improv class, and even the casting session itself -- Doug's casting director and his assistant have now been drafted into my production as actors. I somehow managed to fill every speaking role -- except the lead. And I still need extras!

Doug's casting director turned out to be this pretty cool guy named Joe Wiesner. His wife runs a dance studio here in Stamford (where we held the auditions), and Joe offered the use of the studio for my "office" set. This works out almost perfectly, because he has an office cubicle and a room that can double as a conference room -- exactly the two things I need. But there are two problems: First of all, the would-be conference room lacks a key ingredient: a conference table. Second of all, the Wiesners' lease is up at the end of this month, and they're booked up for almost every day; I have only two days, the 13th and the 20th -- not even full days, really the equivalent of one day's worth of shooting, since we won't have access until 4pm -- to shoot half my movie. That includes dressing the set, setting up the equipment, shooting the footage, and then undressing the set so the studio can go back to business the next day.

The other location is in the basement of the Historic Mansion Inn, which Patrick has cleared with his dad. Obviously, there isn't nearly as much time pressure on this part of the shoot, although for the sake of the lead actor -- whoever that will turn out to be -- it probably shouldn't be too much longer after the Stamford shoot. I'm thinking a Sunday would work out perfectly, since half the people required for this scene end up at the inn on Sundays anyway.

So, this is what I need: ideas, ideas, ideas -- and I need them fast! Who can I cast as Dracula? Who can I cast as extras? Where can I get a crate? Where can I get a conference table -- or something that can at least pass for a conference table -- that is easy to move? And finally, if anyone knows of an office space I can use, that would be a huge relief as an alternative to the tight, tight winow I have to shoot at the Jennifer Wiesner Dance Studio. (Frank and I discussed using the office space at the firehouse, but our concerns are liability and noise. Between those two issues, it just doesn't seem like a good idea.) If all of this sounds like I bit off more than I can chew this time -- you're damn right !! Any help would be greatly appreciated.