26 January 2022

The Obligation of Cinematic Nostalgia

2021 was a banner year in content creation - content maximization, really - for the MCU with 4 new movies (its most ever) and 5 original series on Disney+.  In 2022, 5 separate Star Trek series will release new episodes: FIVE!!!  

Source: medium.com
When The Matrix: Resurrections was released on HBOMax, I decided to sign up for a month of the service to see the new movie.  Before I did, I decided to watch Reloaded and Revolutions again, because I was sure I had seen the original movie several times, but each of the sequels maybe as few as twice each.  Upon starting Reloaded, I was completely lost, and realized what I was expecting to see was actually the back half of the original, so I went ahead and took most of my month's purchase time to get through the full trilogy again, and then - finally - watched Resurrections on the last day that it remained streaming on the service (for now).  The reboot / sequel / most recent installment was... okay.  Pretty good in fact, with a fun and inventive central conceit... but really just the same again as before (which I really think is kind of the central unintended theme of The Matrix franchise).

The Matrix was released in 1999, which was hands down the peak year of movies in America (and don't take my word for it).  My personal filmic consumption was also at an all time high, so I was hooked on most anything that was being doled out.  Ergo, The Phantom Menace (which I first saw pirated on a desktop computer because I was living in Germany, and it wasn't releasing there until the fall {by which time I was going to be back in the States!}) was such a pleasure when I first saw it - seeing the Jedi at their peak (or their early decline) - rather than something to be scoffed at.  

In a year when Fight Club and Office Space were working to undermine contemporary late capitalism in America from opposite ends of the spectrum (and at a time where the political spectrum wasn't the only spectrum - rather the spectrum in this case is Fight Club's chaotic, anarchic direct action on one end and Office Space's radical, satirical inaction on the other) and realities of all sorts were called into question (whether it's cyberspace v. meatspace {The Matrix & eXistenZ}; spiritual reality {The Sixth Sense}; temporal {Run Lola Run}; documentary v. fiction {Blair Witch Project}; cosmic {Being John Malkovich}; or gonzo-comedic {Man on the Moon}), most of the main modern mythologies were at or near their (then) peaks. 

Since that time, of course, we've had the dawn of the MCU, plus the continuation of the Star Wars prequels and expanded universe, Star Trek trying out a prequel series and then a reboot, before its full establishment of an STU, The Walking Dead becoming a cable tv phenomenon and then (likely) overextending its reaching to create a fuller, awesomer universe, and now everything wants not just a movie deal, but a whole universe that can be endlessly capatilistically exploited.  The Harry Potter Universe (HPU), the DCU, even the dream of the SKU.  Did you know, for example, that Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead happen in the same world?

But it's not just that the maximal capitalistic exploitation feels so oppressive - it's the compartmentalization of it all.  Streaming has only made it more ex-stream! - the ability to only consume the same thing that you always want to consume.  Discovery+ is the most extreme version of this (only because most of it is not my speed), but it's the logical, cultural extension of the political media self selecting that has been talked about for decades.

And the outcome, like the natural outcome of late capitalism, is alienation... we will forever become more separate from each other (on a referential level, but also a relational level), and that alienation is helpful for capitalism (especially late capitalism).  The less we notice the suffering of those immediately around us (not our families, but our neighbors - or if you're weird and still friendly with your neighbors, then I mean the people who live two houses down from your neighbors... yes those neighbors) and the more that we feel that we are alone in our own*.

So, as I'm watching an episode of Star Wars: Rebels, and two Lasat survivors identify a location of a new homeworld for their people, my first thought is <<what is a Lasat again?  Have I encountered these before and why do I care?>> and then <<ok, yeah, I care even if I don't know who they are, because I'm a) invested in this universe and b) generally care about the well being of anyone who isn't always already known to be a prick>>.  

It turns out it's easy to love what you love.  When Discovery zapped its characters into the late 32nd Century, the emotionality of the series ramped up to 11 - at least for those who were invested.  The dismantling of The Federation in the 900 years or so since the crew came through is tragic, but the melding of Vulcan and Romulan species in the newly formed Ni'Var is sublime.

But the trick, i think, is 



* our own suffering, that is...