Tuesday, October 20, 2009
On Wasted Opportunities
It's become almost expected that a video game based on a movie is going to be horrible. Still people rush out to buy G.I. Joe: The Video Game because they want to be able to play as their favorite character from the movie. Well not that movie because it was like watching puppies get murdered for an hour and a half. It's been said that in certain situations just before you die there is this level of calm that passes over you. You're ready to die. At 22 minutes into that movie I felt that and it scared me a little because I didn't want to be ready to die. This movie and everything associated with it (even the collector cups) is a perfect example of a wasted opportunity.
Before I talk about the movie itself, video games based on movies are a strange thing these days. It's become this weird circle of loathing. It's expected that the game will be bad, often times the game is bad, people buy the game anyway, and then complain about video games based on movies being bad. I wonder if the developers accept this and that allows for the quality to stay in the toilet. It's very much like the example I used in Stolen Opportunities. There must be some level of success because there's no end to bad video game/movie tie-ins.
G.I. Joe has been around (at least in its most recognizable form) since the early 80s. It allowed boys to play with dolls by calling them action figures and making them smaller than Barbie. He came with tiny accessories and weapons. Each one had a different job or specialty. Wait, how is this not a doll? Anyway. For years there had been talk of a live action movie showing how Joe would protect America's freedom from the faceless bad guys known as Cobra. The problem of course was that war isn't exactly kid friendly, especially when America has been in an armed conflict every decade since WWII.
Finally after it was shown that various "kid" properties like X-Men, Spider-Man, and Transformers could be insanely successful, they started working on the live action movie everyone (and by everyone I mean those who owned the toys and could name every character to this day) was expecting. Fast forwarding past all the signs and portents that indicated something about this movie wasn't quite right, the film is released. Shockingly the thing was a disaster and millions of fanboys, who had been waiting their entire lives for a real movie, wept.
The really sad part isn't just that the movie was bad. It's that if they had taken it a little more seriously and thought about establishing something that could last, the movie might have been ok. There are no illusions about a movie called G.I. Joe being remembered like Citizen Kane, but it could have been something remembered fondly and possibly opened the door to a new generation of fans. Instead they made it into some half-ass cartoony spectacle that even children don't want to watch. So now G.I. Joe will go quietly back into the realm of nostalgia.
It's not just franchises that waste their chances. Individual actors do it too. Not being an actor I have no idea what it must be like to be struggling to stay in the spotlight before your 15 minutes is up. Look at some of the Academy Award winners who have just squandered their potential by making terrible movies. Tommy Lee Jones won in 1994 and by the next year he was playing Two-Face in Batman Forever. After that he went on to play various roles in several forgettable movies. In 1996 Cuba Gooding Jr won and since then he's starred in movies like Chill Factor, Rat Race, and Snow Dogs.
Now I get that having the statue doesn't mean you get to just pick and choose, but I have to imagine it has some pull. When Meryl Streep won her award for Sophie's Choice, there's no doubt she was offered ridiculous roles for female buddy movies or the chance to star with a talking donkey. The difference was that she didn't take them. Instead of wasting that limited amount of time she continued to make quality movies. Well until she made She-Devil, but that was a one-time mistake in judgement.
There are several young actors out there who showed promise at possibly being very good, but instead they wander off to do something else. Ashton Kutcher is one I think of. He was good on his television show. He made a couple movies that showed he could act. Instead of going with this he went with the safe play, made some movies where the plot and characters were interchangeable with each other and is now selling cameras. Maybe this is actually genius, for right now. He's probably making a ton of movie just lounging around for minimal work. The question is, as an actor what is he going to do in 5 or 10 years? The shelf life for young actors is always so short, so it seems like a mistake to be wasting it on showing us practical jokes.
I get that in the entertainment business it's probably better to take the money and run than try to make a serious living at it. It's possible that most people get into it not really caring if they make a quality product. They just want the movie associated with it so they can be famous for a little while. That just makes us, the audience, that much more quick to dismiss someone when they come along. Eventually our attention span will be calculated in nanoseconds.
Before I talk about the movie itself, video games based on movies are a strange thing these days. It's become this weird circle of loathing. It's expected that the game will be bad, often times the game is bad, people buy the game anyway, and then complain about video games based on movies being bad. I wonder if the developers accept this and that allows for the quality to stay in the toilet. It's very much like the example I used in Stolen Opportunities. There must be some level of success because there's no end to bad video game/movie tie-ins.
G.I. Joe has been around (at least in its most recognizable form) since the early 80s. It allowed boys to play with dolls by calling them action figures and making them smaller than Barbie. He came with tiny accessories and weapons. Each one had a different job or specialty. Wait, how is this not a doll? Anyway. For years there had been talk of a live action movie showing how Joe would protect America's freedom from the faceless bad guys known as Cobra. The problem of course was that war isn't exactly kid friendly, especially when America has been in an armed conflict every decade since WWII.
Finally after it was shown that various "kid" properties like X-Men, Spider-Man, and Transformers could be insanely successful, they started working on the live action movie everyone (and by everyone I mean those who owned the toys and could name every character to this day) was expecting. Fast forwarding past all the signs and portents that indicated something about this movie wasn't quite right, the film is released. Shockingly the thing was a disaster and millions of fanboys, who had been waiting their entire lives for a real movie, wept.
The really sad part isn't just that the movie was bad. It's that if they had taken it a little more seriously and thought about establishing something that could last, the movie might have been ok. There are no illusions about a movie called G.I. Joe being remembered like Citizen Kane, but it could have been something remembered fondly and possibly opened the door to a new generation of fans. Instead they made it into some half-ass cartoony spectacle that even children don't want to watch. So now G.I. Joe will go quietly back into the realm of nostalgia.
It's not just franchises that waste their chances. Individual actors do it too. Not being an actor I have no idea what it must be like to be struggling to stay in the spotlight before your 15 minutes is up. Look at some of the Academy Award winners who have just squandered their potential by making terrible movies. Tommy Lee Jones won in 1994 and by the next year he was playing Two-Face in Batman Forever. After that he went on to play various roles in several forgettable movies. In 1996 Cuba Gooding Jr won and since then he's starred in movies like Chill Factor, Rat Race, and Snow Dogs.
Now I get that having the statue doesn't mean you get to just pick and choose, but I have to imagine it has some pull. When Meryl Streep won her award for Sophie's Choice, there's no doubt she was offered ridiculous roles for female buddy movies or the chance to star with a talking donkey. The difference was that she didn't take them. Instead of wasting that limited amount of time she continued to make quality movies. Well until she made She-Devil, but that was a one-time mistake in judgement.
There are several young actors out there who showed promise at possibly being very good, but instead they wander off to do something else. Ashton Kutcher is one I think of. He was good on his television show. He made a couple movies that showed he could act. Instead of going with this he went with the safe play, made some movies where the plot and characters were interchangeable with each other and is now selling cameras. Maybe this is actually genius, for right now. He's probably making a ton of movie just lounging around for minimal work. The question is, as an actor what is he going to do in 5 or 10 years? The shelf life for young actors is always so short, so it seems like a mistake to be wasting it on showing us practical jokes.
I get that in the entertainment business it's probably better to take the money and run than try to make a serious living at it. It's possible that most people get into it not really caring if they make a quality product. They just want the movie associated with it so they can be famous for a little while. That just makes us, the audience, that much more quick to dismiss someone when they come along. Eventually our attention span will be calculated in nanoseconds.
Monday, October 19, 2009
On Stolen Opportunities
In college I had a business teacher who owned a used car dealership. He told us that too often car salesmen go for the quick sale at the expense of the customer. This wasn't something he wanted at his dealership because once the sale was made that person would never come back. Instead he would treat the customer fair and rather than just buying one car, they would come back over the years buying several. I don't know if those days are gone. Loyalty like that may be some nostalgic idea that no longer works in today's world.
Looking at the movie industry it's apparent that most times there isn't any concern with longevity, but rather just the immediate profit. If the first movie is successful then a sequel is drafted with one of two possible motives: A) Continue the story in a logical and progressive way that builds on what was already established while managing to bring something new to the screen. Or B) Profit off the success of the first movie and possibly create a hook for additional sequels. Now both can be true, but very few tend to pull that off. There's a certain robots from outer space movie from this past summer that comes to mind. The first movie was entertaining, as much as one could expect from something based on a toy line from the 80s. The second movie, however, felt like a street crime. You're not even sure what's happening at first, but next thing you know your money is gone and you're going to spend hours trying to recover from the incident. In the movie's defense, it's made a lot of money. It's made much more money than a movie of that quality should. Rotten Tomatoes has it listed at 19% and yet it managed to make over $400 million. How is it that only 1 out of 5 people liked the movie, but it was one of the highest grossing movies of 2009?
The point isn't to bash this movie in particular. Rather it's about what this movie and movies like it represent. If you were to ask the critics if this movie was a success they would say no. It failed on several levels and will ultimately forgotten among the other mindless action pictures. Now if you asked the studio or director if it was a success, they would say of course. It more than made back the cost to make it. Enough so that they're already working on another movie. This movie has entered into a slightly strange netherworld of success. On one hand it's considered to be a terrible movie in terms of storytelling. On the other it's a financial success. So which is it really?
Let's try an example. You're working for a software company and just completed a large project. The whole thing has taken a lot of time, effort, and money to finish. The software ships and millions of units are sold, but 80% of the people who buy it can't stand what it does for them. They can't return the software once it's been opened so they're left with feeling unsatisfied. Is your software successful? Maybe in the immediate present it is because you've got the money in hand. The problem is the next time you go to release something whether or not if anyone is going to bother. Your last outing felt like being gang raped by rabid monkeys so why would anyone shell out money again?
I recently read an article that talked about the disaster that was Batman & Robin. It went on to say that despite being a terrible movie, it was one of the most important comic book movies ever made. It was so bad that it actually caused lasting change throughout the entire genre. There is a demotivational poster called Mistakes that says "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others." That is what Batman & Robin has become. It's a cautionary tale to other filmmakers. The movie was both a critical and financial flop. What would have happened if it had made a ton of money? People may have hated it, but someone was paying to see it. Would the lesson still have been learned?
I think the sequel can be more important than the original depending on the motive behind it. In movies it can establish a franchise. In music it can show that a band's success wasn't just a one time thing. It's when the second one is done solely to capitalize on the success of the first that things start to fall apart. I could make up some numbers about the number of fans lost after the second movie, but it's hard to know. People can be strangely forgiving about their entertainment.
Looking at the movie industry it's apparent that most times there isn't any concern with longevity, but rather just the immediate profit. If the first movie is successful then a sequel is drafted with one of two possible motives: A) Continue the story in a logical and progressive way that builds on what was already established while managing to bring something new to the screen. Or B) Profit off the success of the first movie and possibly create a hook for additional sequels. Now both can be true, but very few tend to pull that off. There's a certain robots from outer space movie from this past summer that comes to mind. The first movie was entertaining, as much as one could expect from something based on a toy line from the 80s. The second movie, however, felt like a street crime. You're not even sure what's happening at first, but next thing you know your money is gone and you're going to spend hours trying to recover from the incident. In the movie's defense, it's made a lot of money. It's made much more money than a movie of that quality should. Rotten Tomatoes has it listed at 19% and yet it managed to make over $400 million. How is it that only 1 out of 5 people liked the movie, but it was one of the highest grossing movies of 2009?
The point isn't to bash this movie in particular. Rather it's about what this movie and movies like it represent. If you were to ask the critics if this movie was a success they would say no. It failed on several levels and will ultimately forgotten among the other mindless action pictures. Now if you asked the studio or director if it was a success, they would say of course. It more than made back the cost to make it. Enough so that they're already working on another movie. This movie has entered into a slightly strange netherworld of success. On one hand it's considered to be a terrible movie in terms of storytelling. On the other it's a financial success. So which is it really?
Let's try an example. You're working for a software company and just completed a large project. The whole thing has taken a lot of time, effort, and money to finish. The software ships and millions of units are sold, but 80% of the people who buy it can't stand what it does for them. They can't return the software once it's been opened so they're left with feeling unsatisfied. Is your software successful? Maybe in the immediate present it is because you've got the money in hand. The problem is the next time you go to release something whether or not if anyone is going to bother. Your last outing felt like being gang raped by rabid monkeys so why would anyone shell out money again?
I recently read an article that talked about the disaster that was Batman & Robin. It went on to say that despite being a terrible movie, it was one of the most important comic book movies ever made. It was so bad that it actually caused lasting change throughout the entire genre. There is a demotivational poster called Mistakes that says "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others." That is what Batman & Robin has become. It's a cautionary tale to other filmmakers. The movie was both a critical and financial flop. What would have happened if it had made a ton of money? People may have hated it, but someone was paying to see it. Would the lesson still have been learned?
I think the sequel can be more important than the original depending on the motive behind it. In movies it can establish a franchise. In music it can show that a band's success wasn't just a one time thing. It's when the second one is done solely to capitalize on the success of the first that things start to fall apart. I could make up some numbers about the number of fans lost after the second movie, but it's hard to know. People can be strangely forgiving about their entertainment.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
On Drag Me To Hell
I originally wrote this review for a friend back when the movie first came out. Apparently I'm one of five people who went to see this movie in the theater. With it being released on DVD hopefully people will find it among the rubble that is new releases.
I should start off this review with the fact that I'm a pretty big fan of Sam Raimi. Anyone who allows Gene Hackman to shoot and kill Leonardo DiCaprio is a genius in my book. Given that, I haven't been all that happy with his Spider-Man movies. Raimi does better when he's given more freedom and that just don't seem to be the case with his Marvel movies. So it was nice to hear he was coming back to horror, even if it's only in between Spider-Man sequels.
You really have to go into this movie knowing it's going to be classic Raimi. If you are expecting a straight up horror movie or something grounded in reality, then you'll probably be thrown off for about twenty minutes or so until you can get into the right frame of mind. It's a little disarming when you get your first sight gag because you may be unsure just how serious the movie is supposed to be. The movie does have a few issues where it's not quite sure what it wants to be. Still if you can't find humor in the idea of a highly agitated demon-filled goat at a seance, then this movie might not be for you.
For the most part the black humor worked for me. There were only a few exceptions where either the joke was telegraphed too far in advance or it felt setup. Having spent a considerable amount of time around anvils as a kid, I've never seen an anvil suspended higher than eye level. So it was hard for me to buy into the fact that the main character would have one just hanging around for no apparent reason other than to be a prop.
Speaking of the characters, Alison Lohman's character felt pretty real to me. Not overly good or bad, but more like a regular person. She was somewhat self-centered and made some bad choices that led to her getting cursed in the first place. What she did wasn't even that bad, although you can really judge a person by how they treat people they don't have to be nice to. On the other hand the gypsy wasn't some frail old lady who needed some help though. She was a vindictive witch, who apparently curses anyone for even the slightest wrong doing. Her reaction to theft or being denied something is extreme. It was the equivalent of burning down someone's house because of name calling.
I actually liked Justin Long's character. He was put in the very grounded role, which I'm guessing was supposed to be the skeptic. Still it was nice having the supporting character not spend the entire movie questioning everything or do the routine act of disbelief. Well there was disbelief, but there was also a sense of trust and respect. He even says at one point in the movie, if she believes it then it doesn't matter what he believes.
Overall this movie isn't going to change the genre. It was a welcome change from the seemingly endless parade of horror remakes where brutality is mistaken for originality. This had gross out moments and geniune scares that were in just the right amount. I think if Raimi had shifted more in either the comedy or horror direction this movie might have come off as too silly for its own good. It's the balance of the two aspects that really makes it work.
I should start off this review with the fact that I'm a pretty big fan of Sam Raimi. Anyone who allows Gene Hackman to shoot and kill Leonardo DiCaprio is a genius in my book. Given that, I haven't been all that happy with his Spider-Man movies. Raimi does better when he's given more freedom and that just don't seem to be the case with his Marvel movies. So it was nice to hear he was coming back to horror, even if it's only in between Spider-Man sequels.
You really have to go into this movie knowing it's going to be classic Raimi. If you are expecting a straight up horror movie or something grounded in reality, then you'll probably be thrown off for about twenty minutes or so until you can get into the right frame of mind. It's a little disarming when you get your first sight gag because you may be unsure just how serious the movie is supposed to be. The movie does have a few issues where it's not quite sure what it wants to be. Still if you can't find humor in the idea of a highly agitated demon-filled goat at a seance, then this movie might not be for you.
For the most part the black humor worked for me. There were only a few exceptions where either the joke was telegraphed too far in advance or it felt setup. Having spent a considerable amount of time around anvils as a kid, I've never seen an anvil suspended higher than eye level. So it was hard for me to buy into the fact that the main character would have one just hanging around for no apparent reason other than to be a prop.
Speaking of the characters, Alison Lohman's character felt pretty real to me. Not overly good or bad, but more like a regular person. She was somewhat self-centered and made some bad choices that led to her getting cursed in the first place. What she did wasn't even that bad, although you can really judge a person by how they treat people they don't have to be nice to. On the other hand the gypsy wasn't some frail old lady who needed some help though. She was a vindictive witch, who apparently curses anyone for even the slightest wrong doing. Her reaction to theft or being denied something is extreme. It was the equivalent of burning down someone's house because of name calling.
I actually liked Justin Long's character. He was put in the very grounded role, which I'm guessing was supposed to be the skeptic. Still it was nice having the supporting character not spend the entire movie questioning everything or do the routine act of disbelief. Well there was disbelief, but there was also a sense of trust and respect. He even says at one point in the movie, if she believes it then it doesn't matter what he believes.
Overall this movie isn't going to change the genre. It was a welcome change from the seemingly endless parade of horror remakes where brutality is mistaken for originality. This had gross out moments and geniune scares that were in just the right amount. I think if Raimi had shifted more in either the comedy or horror direction this movie might have come off as too silly for its own good. It's the balance of the two aspects that really makes it work.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
On Corn Dogs
Ok technically this isn't specifically about corn dogs, but what corn dogs used to mean. When I was a kid one of my favorite things were corn dogs. I didn't get to have them that often so when I did it always felt special. Something about a hot dog encased in cornbread was sheer genius. Add a handy stick that protects the fingers and my little child brain almost couldn't handle it. Thinking back about the times when I had corn dogs, I don't even know how they tasted. I only know that I loved them.
Somewhere along the way corn dogs stopped being awesome to me. I can't pinpoint a specific instance when I stopped loving them, but it happened and part of me is sad that they're just another thing that I don't seem to appreciate like I used to. It's been a couple years since I had one and the last one I had tasted like disappointment. The cornbread was hard in spots and gooey in others. The hot dog...well it tasted as good as a hot dog can taste when surrounded by a funky bread-like substance. Is it possible that corn dogs tasted different when I was a kid? Did they change or did I? They say that you're essentially a new person every seven years. At least on a cellular level anyway. So do the things we loved when we were young stand a chance at being loved by us as we get older if we're almost a completely different person the next time we try them?
Sometimes I think nostalgia must be a form of delusion. Are the memories we have actually what happened? So much of what we experience is slanted towards our own perception of the event. Things that happened could be distorted due to emotions or simply misremembering details. I suppose that could call into question what is actually reality if reality is just the collective perception of events based on the memory of them. That's a whole other bag of frogs though.
Find something that you used to love as a kid. Or even less extreme, find something you used to love ten years ago and haven't experienced since. Is it as important to you now as it was then? Try watching an old movie or television show that you haven't seen in years. How long does that warm feeling of remembering last before you start to look at it with present day eyes?
I'm not saying it's impossible to love something from your past. I just wonder how certain things move through time with us. Obviously you won't love everything in the same way as when you were eight, but what causes some people to continue loving something long after others have outgrown it?
Something like Star Wars or Star Trek is a good example. Both have influenced people long after they originally came out. Still to this day there are people who love either as much now as when they first were released. What if you had watched Star Wars once or twice and loved it, then didn't see it again for 25 years. How would it hold up compared to your memory of it? They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. It can also make it grow forgetful. Maybe it's that gap in between that causes the idea of it to be better than reality.
For me there is almost a fear of reliving certain things from my past. I'm convinced that the memory of it is going to screw up my expectations of what it will be like today. Is it better to let some things just stay a pleasant memory?
Somewhere along the way corn dogs stopped being awesome to me. I can't pinpoint a specific instance when I stopped loving them, but it happened and part of me is sad that they're just another thing that I don't seem to appreciate like I used to. It's been a couple years since I had one and the last one I had tasted like disappointment. The cornbread was hard in spots and gooey in others. The hot dog...well it tasted as good as a hot dog can taste when surrounded by a funky bread-like substance. Is it possible that corn dogs tasted different when I was a kid? Did they change or did I? They say that you're essentially a new person every seven years. At least on a cellular level anyway. So do the things we loved when we were young stand a chance at being loved by us as we get older if we're almost a completely different person the next time we try them?
Sometimes I think nostalgia must be a form of delusion. Are the memories we have actually what happened? So much of what we experience is slanted towards our own perception of the event. Things that happened could be distorted due to emotions or simply misremembering details. I suppose that could call into question what is actually reality if reality is just the collective perception of events based on the memory of them. That's a whole other bag of frogs though.
Find something that you used to love as a kid. Or even less extreme, find something you used to love ten years ago and haven't experienced since. Is it as important to you now as it was then? Try watching an old movie or television show that you haven't seen in years. How long does that warm feeling of remembering last before you start to look at it with present day eyes?
I'm not saying it's impossible to love something from your past. I just wonder how certain things move through time with us. Obviously you won't love everything in the same way as when you were eight, but what causes some people to continue loving something long after others have outgrown it?
Something like Star Wars or Star Trek is a good example. Both have influenced people long after they originally came out. Still to this day there are people who love either as much now as when they first were released. What if you had watched Star Wars once or twice and loved it, then didn't see it again for 25 years. How would it hold up compared to your memory of it? They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. It can also make it grow forgetful. Maybe it's that gap in between that causes the idea of it to be better than reality.
For me there is almost a fear of reliving certain things from my past. I'm convinced that the memory of it is going to screw up my expectations of what it will be like today. Is it better to let some things just stay a pleasant memory?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Word Fail Me
I need a word that describes that feeling when you look at a flame or red hot oven burner and can't help but want to touch it even though every time you've done so in the past has resulted in horrible burns.
On Oil
A long time ago I saw this movie with William H Macy called The Water Engine. Based on David Mamet's 1977 play, it's the story of an inventor who has created a carburetor that runs on water. When he tries to patent the engine things start to go wrong. Even though it was set in the 1930s, there was still this push to make sure that oil was the primary fuel source. Eventually the inventor is killed and the engine itself is lost thanks to the oil companies. It was an interesting story about how a naive inventor thought he could just create something that would change the world. He didn't realize that some people don't want the world to change.
The next time I saw something about the water engine was in the short-lived X-Files spin off, The Lone Gunmen. They were searching for the mythical water-powered car. And the end of the episode the person they thought was helping them was working to make sure the water engine never was given to the public. Her motives for doing this weren't as monetarily based as the oil companies in the movie. Instead she was keeping the water engine a secret because imagine a world where cars run on water. It seems like a great idea in theory. Our primary source of fuel is based on something from a few hundred million years ago and when we run out, there isn't any more. With about 70% of the Earth covered in water it would seem like an almost endless source of fuel. So what would our oceans, lakes, and rivers be like if we were trying to feed our cars and machinery? It's predicted by 2020 there will be over a billion motor vehicles on the planet. Imagine if they all ran on a cheap fuel that ran clean? There could be double that in half the time. Maybe an engine that runs on water isn't such a great thing after all.
In 1999 Honda released its first hybrid car called the Insight. Its fuel efficiency was rated as high as 70 mpg on the highway. Ten years later and the highest numbers come from the Prius and Civic. The Prius at 48 mpg actually gets better mileage in the city than the Civic's 45 mpg highway. Most other hybrid cars can barely top out at 40 mpg. It's 2009. How is it that we're supposed to be excited that a hybrid can barely get 40 mpg? The automobile has been around for 140 years and the absolute best we can look forward to is 48 mpg. Something about that just seems wrong. Shouldn't the numbers be higher already?
I'm not an oil baron (if they even still have those anymore) so I can't really understand what it's like to have everything I own based on the profit of oil. Still oil production in America is over a 150 years old. There is potentially a lot of oil left to squeeze out of the Earth. Those who are making billions today will most likely continue to make billions tomorrow. The part I can't figure out though is why it seems like both the automotive manufacturers and oil companies (I guess energy companies might be more accurate) are dragging their feet when it comes to new technology. Given the resources of someone like Exxon, shouldn't they be leading the charge when it comes to new technology? And not just in oil refinement, but modern energy. Imagine if Shell Oil created some new kind of fuel cell that reduced our need for oil? Notice I didn't say ended our need. Reduced. Anyone who thinks that oil usage is going to go away anytime soon is deluding themselves. And maybe that's where the feet dragging comes from. Oil companies fearing that if they revolutionize fuel efficiency they'll essentially be killing their profits. I suppose it's the safe play to just keep doing what worked for the last century rather than innovate. Problem with that is eventually the need for oil will go away, either because we just don't have enough or because some other fuel comes along. When that happens those who cling to the old ideas are going to get crushed in the switch.
It's interesting that Mamet wrote his play not too long after the Emergency Highway Conservation Act was passed. This is what gave us the speed limit of 55 mph. The speed limit acting as a band-aid to the oil crisis of 1973 where OPEC essentially decided to stop sending us oil. Combined with the stock market crash there was a sort of panic that things were crumbling. In an attempt to make sure the oil on hand could last as long as possible gas rationing was implemented. Even with this there were lines and stations without fuel. This was in the early 70s. If people were panicking then what's it going to be like tomorrow? There's less oil now than 30 years ago.
There's this thing called Hubbert peak theory that predicted United States oil production would peak between 1965 and 1970. After that it would be harder to produce petroleum and there would always be less of it. There was criticism of this theory because it tended to be too simplistic and thanks to the strict gas rationing Hubbert's original numbers were off. The general idea holds true, even if the date isn't exact. The guy wrote his original paper back in 1956. Even then he understood what was coming. As predicted we reached our peak and ever since have been on the decline.
Fifty years ago it was predicted that oil production would begin to fall. Thanks to his handy little bell curve graph it looked like the very end of oil wouldn't be for another 200 years. Apparently that is reason enough to not move very fast on coming up with some alternatives. If you're an oil executive you know that with 200 years to spare even your great great grandchildren can be rich off oil.
The problem is just because there's a drop of oil left in the ground, doesn't mean it's going to be easy to get to. If everyone else is running off the same information then they have to know before too long it'll be worth fighting over. We're fighting over oil interests now and according to the charts we still have a couple centuries before things go completely dry. What's it going to be like when we're on the downward slide of that bell curve and the peak is a distant memory to anyone still alive? I guess we can look forward to the Texaco Army in a stand off with the British Petroleum Militia.
The next time I saw something about the water engine was in the short-lived X-Files spin off, The Lone Gunmen. They were searching for the mythical water-powered car. And the end of the episode the person they thought was helping them was working to make sure the water engine never was given to the public. Her motives for doing this weren't as monetarily based as the oil companies in the movie. Instead she was keeping the water engine a secret because imagine a world where cars run on water. It seems like a great idea in theory. Our primary source of fuel is based on something from a few hundred million years ago and when we run out, there isn't any more. With about 70% of the Earth covered in water it would seem like an almost endless source of fuel. So what would our oceans, lakes, and rivers be like if we were trying to feed our cars and machinery? It's predicted by 2020 there will be over a billion motor vehicles on the planet. Imagine if they all ran on a cheap fuel that ran clean? There could be double that in half the time. Maybe an engine that runs on water isn't such a great thing after all.
In 1999 Honda released its first hybrid car called the Insight. Its fuel efficiency was rated as high as 70 mpg on the highway. Ten years later and the highest numbers come from the Prius and Civic. The Prius at 48 mpg actually gets better mileage in the city than the Civic's 45 mpg highway. Most other hybrid cars can barely top out at 40 mpg. It's 2009. How is it that we're supposed to be excited that a hybrid can barely get 40 mpg? The automobile has been around for 140 years and the absolute best we can look forward to is 48 mpg. Something about that just seems wrong. Shouldn't the numbers be higher already?
I'm not an oil baron (if they even still have those anymore) so I can't really understand what it's like to have everything I own based on the profit of oil. Still oil production in America is over a 150 years old. There is potentially a lot of oil left to squeeze out of the Earth. Those who are making billions today will most likely continue to make billions tomorrow. The part I can't figure out though is why it seems like both the automotive manufacturers and oil companies (I guess energy companies might be more accurate) are dragging their feet when it comes to new technology. Given the resources of someone like Exxon, shouldn't they be leading the charge when it comes to new technology? And not just in oil refinement, but modern energy. Imagine if Shell Oil created some new kind of fuel cell that reduced our need for oil? Notice I didn't say ended our need. Reduced. Anyone who thinks that oil usage is going to go away anytime soon is deluding themselves. And maybe that's where the feet dragging comes from. Oil companies fearing that if they revolutionize fuel efficiency they'll essentially be killing their profits. I suppose it's the safe play to just keep doing what worked for the last century rather than innovate. Problem with that is eventually the need for oil will go away, either because we just don't have enough or because some other fuel comes along. When that happens those who cling to the old ideas are going to get crushed in the switch.
It's interesting that Mamet wrote his play not too long after the Emergency Highway Conservation Act was passed. This is what gave us the speed limit of 55 mph. The speed limit acting as a band-aid to the oil crisis of 1973 where OPEC essentially decided to stop sending us oil. Combined with the stock market crash there was a sort of panic that things were crumbling. In an attempt to make sure the oil on hand could last as long as possible gas rationing was implemented. Even with this there were lines and stations without fuel. This was in the early 70s. If people were panicking then what's it going to be like tomorrow? There's less oil now than 30 years ago.
There's this thing called Hubbert peak theory that predicted United States oil production would peak between 1965 and 1970. After that it would be harder to produce petroleum and there would always be less of it. There was criticism of this theory because it tended to be too simplistic and thanks to the strict gas rationing Hubbert's original numbers were off. The general idea holds true, even if the date isn't exact. The guy wrote his original paper back in 1956. Even then he understood what was coming. As predicted we reached our peak and ever since have been on the decline.
Fifty years ago it was predicted that oil production would begin to fall. Thanks to his handy little bell curve graph it looked like the very end of oil wouldn't be for another 200 years. Apparently that is reason enough to not move very fast on coming up with some alternatives. If you're an oil executive you know that with 200 years to spare even your great great grandchildren can be rich off oil.
The problem is just because there's a drop of oil left in the ground, doesn't mean it's going to be easy to get to. If everyone else is running off the same information then they have to know before too long it'll be worth fighting over. We're fighting over oil interests now and according to the charts we still have a couple centuries before things go completely dry. What's it going to be like when we're on the downward slide of that bell curve and the peak is a distant memory to anyone still alive? I guess we can look forward to the Texaco Army in a stand off with the British Petroleum Militia.
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