For Hollywood, familiarity does not breed contempt.
For Hollywood, familiarity breeds a safer bet at the box office.
As the theory goes, if audiences enjoy a movie, they will enjoy it again in a slightly altered package. That is the idea behind the sequel, and it’s an idea Hollywood banks on, especially during summer.
This summer brings seven sequels, from “Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones” to “Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams” (oh, for the days when a sequel simply meant a new number after the title).
What’s more, this summer brings another seven movies hoped to spawn sequels. One already has. No sooner did “Spider-Man” break every opening weekend record did the studio announce the sequel’s release date.
Sequels are nothing new. In the 1930s and ’40s, Universal relied so heavily on its Frankenstein, Dracula and Wolf Man movies that the sequels became interconnected (“Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man”).
When the monsters weren’t busy meeting each other, they were spun into a second series where they met Abbot and Costello.
Bob Hope and Bing Crosby made seven “Road” trips, and Mickey Rooney starred in 16 Andy Hardy movies, but they were among the exceptions. During Hollywood’s golden era, sequels were reserved for B-picture heroes, detectives like Boston Blackie, Charlie Chan and the Saint, and comic characters like Blondie and Francis the Talking Mule.
Sequels did not become big business until 1963 when producers Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman spent more money making “From Russia With Love” than its predecessor, “Dr. No,” and scored a bigger hit. Not only did they secure the foundation of the James Bond series – still the most venerable of all – by rising above the first movie’s B-movie production values, they established the rules sequels still follow.
Sequels became so acceptable by 1974 that “The Godfather, Part II,” became the first sequel to win an Oscar for best picture. By the 1970s, everyone accepted that if a movie was a hit, it was likely to have a sequel.
These days, however, movies are designed with sequels already in mind. Columbia hopes “XXX,” with Vin Diesel playing an X Games version of James Bond, is the first of a series. The big studios rely more and more on sequels, and the reason lies in the economics of the opening weekend.
During the last decade, a movie’s opening has changed from its launch pad to the three-day window when it must make most of its money (at least in terms of its domestic release). A few blockbusters open big and get the positive word-of-mouth to play for months – movies such as “Shrek,” “Monsters, Inc.,” “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring,” “Spider-Man” and, most significantly, “Titanic.”
They are exceptions, though. The rule for major studio releases is have a huge opening weekend or fail.
“Everything has become about feeding that maw,” said David Poland, daily columnist for the Hot Button, an Internet site that follows the movie business. “Opening weekend is never, ever about the quality of the movie. It’s about marketing and awareness.”
Studios have learned the best ways to create awareness are to shell out upwards of $20 million apiece for marquee stars (Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks, Mel Gibson or Julia Roberts) or to build a movie around a familiar concept. A familiar concept includes a remake, a TV spin-off and, especially, a sequel.
Historically sequels make less money than their predecessors, but Hollywood still considers them a safe investment. Most movies lose money. Making any profit is what counts, even if it is a smaller profit.
“You can make a bad sequel and still make some money back if you’re careful how you finance the movie,” Poland said.
But the financial rules of the sequel are no longer solid. “You’re no longer guaranteed that the first movie will be the big one,” Poland said.
Case in point is “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me,” which made more money in its opening weekend than “Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery” made during its theatrical run. The first Austin Powers movie didn’t gain popularity until it was released on video, and its studio, New Line, was able to capitalize on that for the 1999 sequel. “New Line had spent more money than they ever did to market a movie,” Poland said.
New Line isn’t spending as much to market next month’s “Austin Powers in Goldmember” simply because the studio doesn’t have to. Audience awareness is already there.
If the first movie is a huge hit, mounting a sequel could become more difficult. The stars and sometimes the director have the clout to demand more money. Next month “Men in Black II” opens after years of Hollywood analysts saying the studio, Sony, could never afford to reunite Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones.
Smith and Jones were lured back, along with director Barry Sonnenfeld, but each demanded a profit-sharing deal so they will get rich off the movie before Sony sees any money.
“‘Men in Black II’ had better be good,” Poland said. “Because no matter how good it opens, unless it has legs Š it won’t break even.”
Poland predicts the same situation with the newly announced sequel to “Bad Boys,” which will reunite Smith with co-star Lawrence Martin and director Michael Bay.
“Is that movie a good idea?” Poland asked. “Was the first movie the type that called for a sequel? It will open, but will it make enough money to pay for those two guys and Bay?”
Flesh and blood actors aren’t the only ones to drive up a sequels cost. Poland said Sony is taking a huge risk with “Stuart Little 2” because most of its reported $130 million budget went toward creating its computer-animated star.
The budget of the sequel is roughly the same as the first movie’s box office take, of $140 million. That means Sony is relying on home video sales to make a profit on the movie, though that strategy is common for family films.
As sequels and spin-offs became more prominent in the 1990s, a word gained popularity in the Variety lexicon, “franchise.” A string of films was no longer called a series, but a franchise. Soon it took only one sequel to make a franchise. Even that has become irrelevant. Months before production begins on its sequel, “Spider-Man” is considered a franchise.
The franchise concept began with 1989’s “Batman,” Poland said. “That was the first time since ‘Star Wars’ that the merchandising took off.”
The very word “franchise” implies movies being grilled and served as indifferently as fast-food burgers, and indeed a fast-food merchandise tie-in is now standard part of a would-be blockbuster’s release. Disney has an exclusive deal to supply McDonald’s with its Happy Meal prizes, so other studios vie to get their toys into Burger King (“Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron”) and Hardees (“Spider-Man”).
Often lost in franchise planning is the quality of the film. Clearly more thought went into merchandising “Batman and Robin” than writing it, a mentality that killed a profitable series after only four films.
“They were doing what they thought the audience wanted, which was the cool stuff,” Poland said, “and what people wanted was a story.”
That’s not the only example of a studio so arrogant about success it forgets to make a decent movie. “Godzilla,” “Wild Wild West” and the “Planet of the Apes” remake were supposed to inaugurate franchises.
“All those movies were $100 million movies, and all those movies were failures,” Poland said. “The lesson is make a good movie. A good movie will do it, a bad movie won’t do it.”
Not all sequels should be shunned. If the makers care about the material, sequels can be just as good, if not better, than the original. The shining recent example is “Toy Story 2.” James Bond, Harry Potter and Spider-Man sequels stand a decent chance of working because the central characters are strong and appealing.
The truly unfortunate sequels are those made when the original story has no artistic reason to be continued. They sully the original’s reputation. How many people recall the excellence of “Rocky” through the haze of its sequels? “Babe: Pig in the City” was an ill-conceived downer that drowned out the original’s purity.
“It’s an art form,” Poland said, “and no matter how much the studios try to turn it into merchandise, it’s still an art form.”
Disney chief Michael Eisner clamors for a “Toy Story 3,” but the existing movies tell parallel stories about their twin heroes, Sheriff Woody and Buzz Lightyear. A third movie makes as much sense as a third bookend.
Greed drives Hollywood, and part of that greed is the desire to make more from less. Sometimes a movie tells a story so special it should stand alone. Steven Spielberg realized this with “E.T.” More producers need to resist the temptation to make an easy buck at the expense of a work of art.
“Spider-Man 2”? Bring it on!
But the makers of “Monsters, Inc.” should learn from “Babe’s” mistake and never try to extend the story past its magical closing shot.
[EMAIL=jeffwesthoff@nwherald.com]jeffwesthoff@nwherald.com[/EMAIL]
