In an interview with the Telegraph earlier this week, Matthew Baynton, star of BBC sitcom Spooks, spoke about how difficult it has become to get original family blockbusters greenlit. “These days,” he told us, “it's impossible to do anything in this area without existing IP. You need to give financiers a brand that already exists. You can't say, «I wrote this idea about this kid who's friends with a mad scientist» and hope to turn it into a big movie. And this is very sad.”
Baynton confirmed what I had suspected for a long time. “IP,” or intellectual property, is currently a buzzword among creative arts commissioners. I've heard it several times: «Doctor Who, this is a great IP.»
This is not to disparage Doctor Who, which I love. But now the cultural agenda is set by established brands, be they people or things, rather than something that contains a spark of originality. Art has always flourished and even, I would say, survived thanks to new works, but now this situation is under threat and is reaching a crisis point.
I would say the main culprit is television. As streaming services continue to dominate, program creators are having to turn to established organizations to capture the attention of viewers distracted by an endless stream of content. This year already included Sexy Beast (based on the 2000 film of the same name), Mr. and Mrs. Smith (based on the 2005 film of the same name), and One Day (based on the 2011 film of the same name). , based on David Nicholls' 2009 novel of the same name). Where are all these bold new dramas based on a crazy idea? I've heard good things about The Path, a new series developed by James Graham, Michael Sheen and Adam Curtis that imagines a civil uprising in industrial Wales, coming to BBC One in two weeks — but such orders are few and far between. .
In addition, all the creators of The Way have influence and a portfolio of recognized work. Will the Corporation rely on lesser-known writers? Andrew Davies, Alan Bleasdale, Dennis Potter — they all had to start somewhere, but it is unlikely they would find a place in the landscape if they started now. With many ongoing dramas (such as the BBC's Doctors) disappearing from television programming, emerging talent has nowhere to cut their teeth.
Dennis Potter bold support from the BBC was needed. Photo: Hulton/Getty
It's the same in our theaters. The West End has always had to be more careful for commercial reasons, which is why we see so many jukebox musicals or the likes of Stranger Things, which bring in a huge legacy fan base. The real problem, however, is subsidized theatre. A playwright friend of mine told me that 20 years ago, about 30 of these establishments had script readers whose job it was to find and promote new works. Today that number is more like 10. In an industry chronically underpaid, I wonder who will strive to break through as playwrights — and whether we will be denied true visionaries, the next Caryl Churchill and Tom Stoppards.
We've reached a point in music where new work is based on sampling. Take Nicki Minaj's latest album Pink Friday 2, for example, which is a total burp while Beyoncé, Usher and Ariana Grande have relied on old numbers for their latest releases. (Even Taylor Swift, who releases new material every five seconds, is re-releasing her back catalog piecemeal.) Cover albums are the order of the day, too: the long-awaited release of Talking Heads tracks from Miley Cyrus to Lorde. will follow on the heels of a collaborative album paying tribute to Nick Drake. Why can't we find the next Nick Drake instead of just collecting tribute art?
Taylor Swift Among pop music stars cashing in on old material Photo: AFP
In some ways, the greatest hope lies in cinema. There are eight films on this year's Best Picture Oscar shortlist, each of which feels unique. Even where they rely on previous source material—American Fantasy, for example, is based on Percival Everett's 2001 novel Erasure—they're obscure enough that they don't feel like bare bones bait. Two of this year's nominated films happily announced a new dawn. Recently speaking on Alex Zane's Bafta podcast, Oppenheimer director Christopher Nolan suggested that his film's success points to «sort of a post-franchise, post-intellectual landscape for films.» Meanwhile, David Hemingson, author of The Leftovers, a beautiful Rattigan-esque tale of dashed hopes set in a 1970s New England boarding school, predicted in New York magazine that his film would be part of a «renaissance… [in ] humanistic filmmaking.” «.
I hope both Nolan and Hemingson are right. But I can't help but feel like these films are outstanding, and that awards seasons only briefly highlight what's original and artistically important (I say they're hiding from the cultural vandals who think awards ceremonies should be more populist) before we're forced to return to the usual merry-go-round of superhero jokes and Disney remakes.
Sometimes I think we as consumers need to be more creative in our choices; after all, we have the ability to influence algorithmic data, which in turn influences us. However, this assumes that the client is always right, and I fear that often the public will not recognize a great work of art if it pirouettes in front of them. It's up to the people in charge—the leaders with the financial wherewithal—to make change happen, and to do it before we're all forced to watch Disney's «The Full Monty» sequel forever.
Свежие комментарии