This is not our parents’ movie industry

For some time now, I have been intrigued and disgruntled by the state of American cinema — specifically, by the movie industry’s obsession with sequels and remakes. Perhaps obsession is a dramatic word; after all, a fraction of the movies available in theaters today are sequels or remakes. Let’s substitute obsession, then, with fixation.

Regardless, I’ve noticed that the value of the movie theater has shifted from a place to view all films to primarily a space for large franchise films, like Marvel movies or “Star Wars.” In my four years at UF, nearly all of my trips to the theater have been for these franchises, and the theater is well-suited for them. There is cosmic action and excitement. You can’t have the same experience watching “Infinity Wars” on your couch as you can in a sold-out theater.

Things used to be different, though. The novelist Walker Percy published his debut novel, “The Moviegoer,” in 1961 about a man who, unsurprisingly, frequents the theater. Notice that this was nearly 60 years ago, when film was arguably the most important, or at least the most popular, cultural medium. The movie theater was the primary place for cinema in that time period. People had no other options for moviegoing but the theater.

Because of this, the movie theater became a cultural foundation. It represented so much of the culture’s beliefs, longings, fears and hopes. This is what Percy tapped into in his novel, that moviegoing was more than America’s favorite hobby. Rather, film was the medium by which Americans communicated with each other, the space in which public discourse took place. The movies both mirrored and sculpted American culture.

Media is necessary for any culture. Media, broadly defined, is a tool that facilitates communication, like books or newspapers or movies. Within and through media, important ideas and beliefs are transmitted, specifically ideas and beliefs about those who are using that media. In this sense, media is integral to a culture’s self-understanding. For example, a culture that reads thinks of itself in radically different ways than a culture that watches movies.

As I said in the beginning, I’ve struggled to understand why there are so many sequels and remakes. Movie producers must be responding to a consumer demand or else they would not invest so much capital. Why, then, do we demand to see “Harry Potter” prequels, or “Toy Story 4,” or new “Star Wars” movies? Why do we demand to see old movies like “Overboard” and “A Star is Born” redone?

The simple answer is nostalgia, but nostalgia for what, exactly? Perhaps our love of sequels and remakes is a nostalgic longing for a time when film was supreme, when we were in the golden age of movies. If film was the dominant cultural media in the 20th century, it certainly is not in the 21st. Two major competitors come to mind: the internet and the smartphone. Any generation younger than the baby boomers is fluent with and loves both.

Our culture’s most important conversations don’t happen on the film screen but on Reddit afterward. Our generation won’t be nostalgic primarily for movies but for old YouTube videos, GIFs and tweets. The internet is where our culture today is mirrored and sculpted. It is the medium by which we acquire and deepen our self-understanding.

My view is a bleak one; it seems as if cinema, having been dethroned by other cultural media, is lost. And in its confusion, cinema has tried returning to its golden age when new movies and popular demand buzzed. The movie industry as our parents knew it has passed, but the industry today still does not understand this. Or perhaps it does, but it simply doesn't what to do about it.

Of course, film is still beloved today, but it is one source of entertainment among a grocery store of other sources. How can the movie theater compete with Netflix, Twitter or YouTube? Certainly not by remaking old movies or expanding old universes. We always reminisce and reflect when something is almost over: college, a summer camp, a sports season or even a movie. Endings and goodbyes somehow evoke nostalgia from us. Sadly, if we apply this to cinema, we see an industry near the end looking fondly back at its better days. What’s even sadder, the theater still thinks it can have those days back again.

Scott Stinson is a UF English senior. His column appears on Wednesdays.