My formative moviegoing experiences are from the 1980s, but as a film-studies student beginning in 1989, I bought into the critique of the 1980s as the "era of the blockbuster" and little more. Yes, I enjoyed many of those blockbusters, and would defend them, but in general, the emphasis on big-budget spectacles during the decade is undeniable. Although there had been a few interesting films from that decade, it took me until late in the 1980s to appreciate some of those "smaller" films that critics had liked but which broader audiences (me included at the time) had found easy to overlook. Granted, I never bought into 1970s cinema as wholly as my professor and film-textbook writers wanted me to, but I did develop a deep appreciation for cinema from the 1960s, and from Hollywood's Golden Age. At the time, I figured that new appreciation came at the expense of my appreciation of films from the 1980s. I was young, immature, didn't know what made for a "great" movie, and settled too easily for the genuine crowd-pleasers above all else.
Now David Bordwell is defending the 1980s, and is letting me know (although I figured this out years ago) that I don't need to be ashamed of cinema from that much maligned decade:
We’re often told that back then [the 1970s], countercultural forces gave us movies of restless auteur ambition like Five Easy Pieces and Nashville and Mean Streets and Shampoo. Meanwhile, The Godfather, Jaws, American Graffiti, and even Star Wars not only rejuvenated the studio system but also reflected something of their directors’ temperaments, providing Hollywood with an enduring new mythology. So far, so plausible.
Then, the story goes, came the age of the blockbuster. Thereafter, moviemaking was simply selling out, winning the weekend, building franchises, and catering to disposable teenage income. Like big hair and padded shoulders and Wham!, the films of the 1980s are apparently something to be ashamed of. ...
[But] you can make a good case that the 1980s gave America a burst of first-rate films and remarkable new talent. At all levels, from ambitious prestige items to dazzling genre pictures, the decade is nothing to be sneezed at. The maw of home video had to be fed, so the demand was for product of all sorts. Videotape rental expanded specialty niches and cult markets. Filmmakers could finance projects through video and foreign presales, and investors took chances at many levels. The era saw a revival of ambitious independent films, which played alongside program pictures, Oscar bait, and summer blockbusters. Romantic comedy, action movies, and science fiction enjoyed a strong run. And many of the people we still consider genuine movie stars—Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, Glenn Close, Harrison Ford, Mel Gibson, and Tom Cruise—are ineluctably creatures of the 80’s.
I think my favorite part of his post might be the list of movies he includes toward the end:
There are plenty of other worthwhile items: My Favorite Year, The Dream Team, Valley Girl, Adventures in Babysitting, Excalibur, Earth Girls Are Easy, The Abyss, This Is Spinal Tap, D. C. Cab, The Princess Bride, Total Recall, Day of the Dead, Monkey Shines, Streets of Fire, Housekeeping, Purple Rain, Koyaanisqatsi, The Thin Blue Line, and on and on. Few are perfect, but most offer genuine pleasures, and some are as imaginative and bold as the canonized films of the 1970s, albeit in different registers.
Not every film on my list will convince everybody, but I think there are enough solid achievements to show that the blockbuster era didn’t suffocate creative filmmaking in the U.S. In some cases it enhanced it.
Any film critic who cites Streets of Fire and Monkey Shines as "worthwhile" is someone I want to keep reading.
