Everyone’s a Critic (no, really) - Unwarranted Advice
Whether you only go to the movies to see Marvel films or you spend your Saturday evenings with a Cabernet and the latest imported cinema, you’re a film critic. Whether you only read memos and text messages, or you go through three books a week, you’re a literary critic. If you’ve ever played a video game, listened to music, or participated in any product of society that is not “necessary for survival,” you’re a critic.
If you ever voice your opinion or your taste, then your worldview has suddenly contributed to what is known as the zeitgeist. Which is just a fancy German phrase for what defines a culture. Zeitgeists are generally divided by time periods and are marked mainly by the general aesthetic of that era. The American 1950s has a particularly lasting zeitgeist, its markings are still romanticized today.
Its not too hard to even think about the cultural touchstones that the 1950s highlighted: diners, checkerboard floors, neon, the color teal, the birth of pop music, and of course the increase in the US’s involvement in foreign affairs that ultimately exacerbated the cold war, which in turn led to our modern global climate.
It’s a lot harder to see the markers of more recent zeitgeists, especially because the transition from one “era” to another is frequently blurred. In fact, most cultures rebel against their new aesthetics until the generation that ushered them in is old enough to start fetishizing them. Here’s looking at you 80s babies.
Our tendency to romanticize the past is fine in some regards. It allows someone to have the wonder of their childhood crystalized and made permanent in iconography, design, music and film. It lets someone relive “simpler” times, even if in reality, the times were never truly simple.
By romanticizing the past, it’s quite easy to see why franchises exist. Transformers, Marvel, DC, Harry Potter, Disney remakes, all utilize attachment to increase sales. Kids who grew up with Transformers toys, can now watch them in full high definition glory. The generation after them had the transformers TV show. Which still has variants airing today. Meaning three generations of North Americans have had the opportunity to develop an attachment to this media property.
The idea of the franchise wasn’t a marketing ploy from the beginning, I’m sure. But it certainly worked out as one. I think I’m just getting to the age where nostalgic marketing is coming for me and my generation. Take the Mulan remake, the return of Invader Zim, or the Netflix revamp of "Degrassi." Being born in 1995, I was in the middle of two worlds. I was born into a society where the personal computer was normal, nearly every family had at least one cell-phone, but not everyone had an email address.
To be fair, a lot of the major touchstones from my childhood are still around. I saw the first episode of SpongeBob the day it aired, it’s still running. Pokémon was released around the year I was born, and I have played all but two of the main release titles, the latest coming out last year.
I think the same can be said for other generations. Batman has always had some form of relevance in society since its birth, whether it be movies, comics, TV shows, or games. I mentioned Transformers earlier, which has continued its marathon run despite not being as immediately accessible as other Sci Fi properties. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Simpsons, and specific sitcom producers all seem to be cockroaches the world has grown fond of.
The reason this is important is because these IPs (Intellectual Properties [a term, generally used in the gaming industry, to describe what I’ve been calling franchises]) are created and marketed not only for maximum nostalgia, but also engagement. The reason I brought up criticism is because you are more likely to enjoy something relatable. If you recognize your romanticized past in these films, then you’re more likely to spend money to see it. That’s not necessarily bad, but it’s not necessarily good.
If I might be so brash and act as a critic right now, the Marvel Cinematic Universe is a good piece of weaponized nostalgia. The movies are generally good, have a positive societal message, and feel genuine? Is that okay to say? I think so. The Transformers franchise, on the other hand, is less interesting to me. It’s forced disaster porn. And I have no interest in it. To be clear, I played Transformers and Marvel video games growing up. I had several Transformer toys and watched some version of the show. But the films cheapen my memories of that franchise. While the Marvel movies make me remember my nights reading abridged synopses on the Marvel wiki fondly.
Ultimately, you’re entitled to your own opinion, and so am I. But it’s sometimes in your best interest to know when you’re wearing rose-colored glasses. Pay attention to what exists as entertainment and what exists as marketing material. Know the difference between nostalgic content and content that is produced because of nostalgia. Sometimes, we need the childlike wonder back in our lives. Other times, it might be best to remember the shadows that hang from the culture we curated.
