Photo by Christella D. Soriano

This is how hipsters express their disapproval: “It’s too mainstream.” Today, we live in an age that celebrates indie culture—be it in film, music or art. On one hand, it’s great that we’re more open to experimentation and the need to produce challenging works of art. However, this often comes at the expense of mainstream films. Just like big-label pop acts, blockbuster movies are put down by people who claim that large budgets and the desire for profit detract from a piece’s art value and diminish its emotional resonance.

But like a well-executed camera trick, mainstream cinema has its secrets. There’s more to it than meets the eye.

Understanding the divide

To understand the disdain many people have for mainstream films, we must first understand our awe for independent films. In the early days of Hollywood, it was absolutely impossible to make a film without the backing of a studio. Actors were under contract with the production houses and the equipment to make a film was not available to the public. Furthermore, films were a show of scale. Costumes, locations, hordes of extras—entertainment was on a grand scale.

Independent filmmaking as we know it today began as a means for directors (and actors) to have more control over their careers. Championed by the Society of Independent Motion Picture Producers and aided by the advent of cheap portable cameras, independent films began rising in prominence, with Little Fugitive being nominated for Best Original Screenplay in the 1953 Academy Awards.

Part of the charm of indie films has always been their ability to make do with so little. There’s a magic to the way the budgets are stretched, the way they often appear less polished and a bit more D.I.Y. than the glossy big-tickets.

Such a challenge to indie filmmakers somehow engenders the misconception that blockbusters are easy to make, with their big budgets and all. However, a closer look at mainstream cinema proves that this simply isn’t true—blockbusters have challenges of their own.

Music and pop culture critic Jason Hartley cites Steven Spielberg’s Schindler’s List as an example of the double standard in the industry. “If he’d failed, he would have incurred the wrath of just about anyone. Of course, he didn’t fail, but is still held in lower esteem than directors who make their movies when no one is looking.”

Their own challenges

If indie films have to deal with the challenges of a small crew and a tiny budget, blockbusters must struggle with the logistical nightmare of a large-scale production. This is enough to level the playing field in terms of difficulty; in fact, Hartley is willing to go so far as to argue that “making a high-quality Hollywood movie is much more difficult than making a great independent movie.”

Take a look at the Lord of the Rings trilogy. To recreate the literary epic for the big screen, Peter Jackson had a massive budget—however, he needed a team of hundreds of graphics and special effects artists, costumers, writers, stunt coordinators, marketing experts, prop makers—even a “rock and foam technician.” The star-studded cast was filmed on location in New Zealand, where they carved the Shire out of an actual hillside. As added pressure, the book series had millions of loyal fans the team could not disappoint.

It’s easy to crumble under this combination of pressure and excess; this happened with Batman and Robin, which tried to make things grand but instead ended up becoming known as the campiest Batman film—complete with corny one-liners and a Batsuit with nipples. It just goes to show that for both blockbusters and indie flicks, it’s not about the budget; it’s what you do with it that counts.

Taking risks

Here in the Philippines, sappy love stories abound, as do over-the-top comedies and vehicle projects for the newest “love team.” Because of all these, locally produced blockbusters carry a reputation for being corny or baduy, and many people—not least of which are Ateneans—tend to avoid them in favor of Western movies.

Despite this, Communication Department Chair Severino Sarmenta believes that one should give such films a chance. “You have to be open to the possibility that the movie you’ll see will be bad,” he says. “It happens.”

At the same time, he also stresses that this does not mean one should hold lower standards for liking a film. In fact, one should always hold high standards for the media he or she is exposed to—that is, for content, intelligence and emotional resonance. However, it is only by being open to the entire spectrum of films—the good and the bad—that one can develop true film appreciation.

Emotional resonance is a complicated and personal thing; if you close yourself off to certain films in thinking that they couldn’t possibly be good, you risk missing out on good movies and the joy and surprise in discovering them.

“Just because a film features Aga Muhlach doesn’t mean it’s bad,” says Sarmenta.

Rethinking priorities

The greatness of a movie does not depend on its budget. Greatness is when a film is well-directed, well-acted, well-edited—basically, well-made. Who cares how big a budget is or how mass its appeal is? A good film is a good film.

In Fr. Nic Cruz’ European Cinema class, he discusses the divide between the high-gloss Hollywood films and the stark realism of many European offerings. However, he does not pass judgment on one or the other. “I’m not saying Spielberg is better than Bertolucci,” he once said. “We shouldn’t have to choose.”

So the next time you go to the movies, lighten up and try a blockbuster. Who knows, you might even be surprised.