It is strange that last month, in December, two films from separate studios born from separate intellectual properties were lined up back-to-back for their grand releases just as we hit the holiday season. These two separate movies were so much alike in concept though; both resurrecting icons from their behemoth franchises' revered past to tap into that sweet nostalgia money. Yet, both took severely different directions with their subjects. Thus, one became one of the biggest box office successes in recent times and the other has been crucified. So, what did "Spider-Man: No Way Home" do right, and how did "The Matrix Resurrections" fail so miserably?
So, here's to Hollywood's brazen nostalgia issue, and to the homecoming of "Spider-Man: No Way Home" and the death of "The Matrix Resurrections."
Nostalgia has been rampant in the film industry for years now, but it hadn't evolved into such a pandemic till the latter half of 2010s I believe. Remakes, reboots, relaunches, restarts, retread, retread, retread... The overwhelming majority of which have been ranging from critically panned and lambasted by audiences, to barely average films.
Such has become the state of Hollywood that it more closely resembles video games than art nowadays. They feel like "Assassin's Creed" and "Far Cry," hey, let's just call it the Ubisoft sandbox-verse – or, even worse, any yearly sports series of Electronic Arts and the irony of EA's name will never get old – rehashes of same ideas, over and over and over and over... you get the idea.
Even when they try to spice things up they fail miserably. Look at the "Terminator" series – or don't if you value your time – one or two neat ideas buried underneath all the nostalgia bait elements brought back from other entries in the franchise, "Genisys" or "Dark Fate," you can pick either for this critique.
Look at Disney, they have been only remaking their timeless animated classics in live-action format for a good few years now. "The Lion King," "Aladdin," "Mulan," "Beauty and the Beast," all just inferior substitutes for their once glorious animated ancestors, and for what? Nothing other than money. Look at "Men in Black," "Jurassic World," "Ghostbusters," "Robocop," "Space Jam," and so on and so forth.
If this policy had taken root before in filmmaking, would we get the first "Matrix," or "Gladiator," "Back to the Future," "John Wick," "Top Gun," "Indiana Jones" and so many more original – or close enough – and blockbuster pieces of work to enjoy?
Smaller studios and dramas will always be the kings and queens of originality, unique ideas and concepts, but we also used to have bigger studio, bigger budget blockbuster tastes of new movies not just mechanical reconstructions of everything that has come before.
Today, there is nothing that entices a grand Hollywood studio to take a gamble on originality. Just like big video game studios are only interested in releasing the same game again, just with a bigger number on the end – and just like films, originality in gaming lies in Indie projects mostly.
So, now that my vent on the state of the entertainment industry is over with, can there be no enjoyment in nostalgia? Of course, there can be, case in point the latest "Spider-Man" film.
Why does the nostalgia work in this "Spider-Man" film? Is it because people have sunk in literally tens of hours into this – and most probably the larger Marvel Cinematic Universe – saga? Is it because the actors are great or the characters are great? Is it because visuals are generally intriguing?
Well, yes, and much more. Much, much more and much simpler if you will: It is because nostalgia is not the sole driving force behind the whole expedition.
Even if you haven't seen any of the previous "Spider-Man" films, or Marvel films in general, at all, "Spider-Man: No Way Home" is able to stand on its own two feet and entertain you. If you have seen the previous entries in the franchises it is even better, and it will satisfy you even more.
In its purest, simplest form, that's how nostalgia can work in film: It works, it clicks, it entertains when it is not used as the core, the foundation of the idea, but rather as a supplement, as a guiding, aiding hand.
How can we tell the nostalgia in "Spider-Man" supplements the story rather than driving it? For one, characters returning from previous films – the nostalgia element of this story – are not just recreations of their previous selves. They are not caricatures of what a nostalgia-fueled mind would conjure them as when reinserting them into a franchise that has long passed them.
Any and all of the recurring characters, are simply put, characters. They are new, interesting interpretations on their identities, not just retreads of their highlights. They feel alive, they change, grow, affect the story. They are characters in this new world, new story, not just the iconic ideology and characterization that they had become over the years, they are not stereotypes of their previous incarnations.
"Spider-Man" works these concepts into its story marvelously. At the end of the day, it is still the story of Tom Holland's Peter Parker, but that does not mean the others that have now been put into this world can't shine in their own right and become even more interesting than in their previous films while complementing Holland's arc – not making the film their story but helping him complete his story, either by standing with him or against him.
"The Matrix Resurrections" on the other hand has nothing going for it but nostalgia. It is the core, the foundation, the essence of the film. Whatever the movie has going for it other than nostalgia, anything new that exists in its story, is peripheral to the nostalgia. This is not how you do nostalgia right, as put before, it should be the other way round. It is a new film, it is the time for new ideas to shine, not to cower before the might of the colossal nostalgia shadow.
Any new characters just fall by the wayside, any new interpretations of old characters simply retread their earlier iterations' character traits, new story beats are drowned in the loudness of the repeats of old melodies, any new visuals or action set-pieces fail to match the original series let alone surpass them.
It feels like a checklist created from past "Matrix" films, and that is exactly how you fail in Nostalgia 101. For stories, one of the most important factors, one of the bedrocks is that it must feel organic and natural. The story needs to progress organically, characters need to feel real, actions and reactions need to occur naturally and it needs to make sense in the world of the story even if they do not in reality that we occupy. Checklists are not organic things, and the audience can feel it when someone pushes something to happen inorganically just because the checklist says so. Just because the checklist says the film needs this to tap into the nostalgic hearts – cash pools – of audiences.
How can I put this in terms that even the densest studio executive can understand? Here's an equation anyone above primary school can understand:
"Art is not a checklist" + "Film is art" = "Film is not a checklist."
