PART I:
THE POISON FACTORY
1
A Sickness in the Soul
Alienating the Audience
Americaâs long-running romance with Hollywood is over.
As a nation, we no longer believe that popular culture enriches our lives. Few of us view the show business capital as a magical source of uplifting entertainment, romantic inspiration, or even harmless fun. Instead, tens of millions of Americans now see the entertainment industry as an all-powerful enemy, an alien force that assaults our most cherished values and corrupts our children. The dream factory has become the poison factory.
The leaders of the industry refuse to acknowledge this rising tide of alienation and hostility. They dismiss anyone who dares to question the impact of the entertainment they produce as a âright-wing extremistâ or a âreligious fanatic.â They self-righteously assert their own right to unfettered free expression while condemning as âfringe groupsâ all organizations that plead for some sense of restraint or responsibility. In the process, Hollywood ignores the concerns of the overwhelming majority of the American people who worry over the destructive messages so frequently featured in todayâs movies, television, and popular music.
Dozens of recent studies demonstrate the publicâs deep disenchantment. In 1989, for instance, an Associated Press/Media General poll showed that 82 percent of a scientifically selected sample felt that movies contained too much violence; 80 percent found too much profanity; and 72 percent complained of too much nudity. By a ratio of more than three to one, the respondents believed that âoverall qualityâ of movies had been âgetting worseâ as opposed to âgetting better.â
In 1990, a Parents magazine poll revealed similar attitudes toward television. Seventy-one percent of those surveyed rated todayâs TV as âfair, poor, or terrible.â Seventy-two percent of this sample supported strict prohibitions against âridiculing or making fun of religionâ on the air, while 64 percent backed restrictions on âridiculing or making fun of traditional values, such as marriage and motherhood.â A Gallup Poll in 1991 turned up additional evidence of the publicâs suspicious and resentful attitude toward televised entertainment. Fifty-eight percent of Americans said that they are âoffended frequently or occasionallyâ by prime-time programming; only three percent believed that TV portrayed âvery positiveâ values.
This widespread concern over the messages of the popular culture stems from an increasingly common conviction that mass entertainment exacerbates our most serious social problems. A Time/CNN survey in 1989 showed that 67 percent believe that violent images in movies are âmainly to blameâ for the national epidemic of teenage violence; 70 percent endorse âgreater restraints on the showing of sex and violenceâ in feature films. A Los Angeles Times survey of the same year reported 63 percent who assert that television âencourages crime,â while a 1991 Newsweek/Gallup Poll showed 68 percent who hold that todayâs movies have a âconsiderableâ or âvery greatâ effect in causing real-life violence.
âThis Simply Cannot Go Onâ
The Hollywood establishment chooses to ignore these public attitudes, or else to downplay their significance. Surveying the severe financial problems that currently plague every component of the entertainment industry, the top decision-makers see nothing more than a temporary slump in business. In one typical comment, John Neal, senior vice president for marketing for United Artists Entertainment, optimistically declared: âAll it takes is one big hit movie and suddenly the whole picture changes.â
That âone big hit movie,â however, will do nothing to end the alienation of an increasingly significant segment of the mainstream audience. The publicâs growing disillusionment with the content of the popular culture represents a long-term trend that wonât suddenly disappear with the end of a recession, or the release of a new batch of lucky box-office blockbusters. The depth and breadth of the current crisis suggests fundamental flaws in the sort of entertainment that Hollywood, in all of its many manifestations, seeks to sell to the American people. That is why ventures as varied as home video and rock ânâ roll radio, feature films and prime-time television, are all suffering similar and simultaneous setbacks.
Consider, for example, the baleful situation with the three major television networks. In the last fifteen years they have lost a third of their nightly audienceâsome 30 million viewers. As a result, their cumulative profits have sunk from $800 million in 1984 to $400 million by 1988, to less than zero in 1991. Business analysts advance many theories for this disastrous falloff, but even television insiders consider that much of the publicâs disenchantment relates directly to the quality of the programs. âThe networks have lost audiences because theyâve lost touch with the American viewer,â according to Gene DeWitt, head of a prestigious New York media consulting firm interviewed by Time in November 1990. âThey havenât delivered programs that viewers want to watch.â
Syndicated columnist Mike Royko spoke for many Americans when he recently declared, âI enjoy TV trash as much as the next slob. But the quality of truly trashy trash has declined.â He went on to explain that of the top seventy-one shows in the Nielsen Ratings, âthere isnât even one that I now watch regularly.â His fellow columnist Cal Thomas announced his resolution at the end of 1990 to give up watching the networks altogether. âThey have not only abandoned my values,â he wrote, âthey now have sunk to the sewer level, dispensing the foulest of smells that resemble the garbage I take to the curb twice a week.â
Many of the major networksâ lost viewers have fled to the new Fox Network, or to the abundance of alternatives on cable TV, but these additional options have done nothing to increase the publicâs approval of what it is watching. A survey commissioned by the National Association of Broadcasters found that a growing number of households with TV sets âfeel increasing dissatisfactionâ and that âthe majority of viewers believe television is a negative influence.â
One reflection of viewer restlessness is the tendency toward âgrazingâ in their nightly viewingâusing remote controls to switch stations in the middle of a program. According to a major survey for Channels magazine in 1988, 48.5 percent of all viewers regularly change programs during a showâand nearly 60 percent of viewers in the crucial eighteen-to-thirty-four age group. âGrazing is by definition a sign of dissatisfaction,â explained James Webster, professor of communications at Northwestern University. âViewers know what is going to happen, and they wonder what theyâre missing on some other channel.â According to the Gallup Poll, in 1974, 46 percent of Americans rated watching television as their favorite way of spending an evening; by 1990, that number had fallen to 24 percent.
This diminished enthusiasm for the popular culture and its products has even infected the huge teenage audience for popular musicâan audience never before noted for its finicky taste or searching discernment. Overall sales of records, cassettes, and CDs plummeted a disastrous 11 percent in the first six months of 1991, and signs of restlessness and frustration turned up everywhere in the music business. Bob Krasnow, chairman of Elektra Entertainment, told Billboard magazine: âIn 1991, the record business finds itself dangerously close to creative stagnation. All the formulas have been played out.â Meanwhile, numerous articles asked âIs rock dead?â while all measures of public response suggested that this once robust art form was, at best, on life-support systems.
For instance, rock ânâ rollâs share of the music industryâs total take slipped from 46.2 percent in 1988 to 37.4 percent in 1990. Just weeks before his death in October 1991, the legendary concert promoter Bill Graham observed that âuntil now, rock was recession proof ⌠but we have just gone through the worst six months ever in the rock concert industry.â Attendance at rock concerts across the nation plunged by more than 30 percent compared to the previous year.
At the same time, the âTop 40â radio format continued its long-term slide in the Arbitron radio ratings, abandoned by even those teenagers who have always provided its core of support. In 1991 an unprecedented 56 percent of the teenage radio audience preferred listening to other formats; as a result, country and western for the first time passed Top 40 in overall popularity. In fact, the steady growth in the audience for country music, with its earthy and unpretentious attempts to connect with the everyday concerns of Middle America, provided one of the few bright spots in the general gloom of the music business. Country star Garth Brooks confounded all expectations by creating 1991's top-selling album, Ropinâ the Wind, which is expected to reach sales of more than 7 million units. Music industry analyst Bob Lefsetz, publisher of The Lefsetz Letter,declares, âCountry music, unlike the rest of popular music, is talking about real lives. About real people. These artists are telling you what they feel. Theyâre making honest records, and thatâs why their music is connecting with the public.â
Feature films, by contrast, are connecting with a shrinking percentage of the American people. Sharply increased ticket prices and the controversial content of recent films have combined to make moviegoing a form of entertainment that appeals primarily to an elite audience. According to 1991 figures from the Motion Picture Association of America, 27 percent of those who have attended college describe themselves as âfrequentâ moviegoers, but only 11 percent of those who failed to complete high school place themselves in that category. More significantly, 45 percent of all Americans are identified as âinfrequentâ moviegoers (less than twice a year), and a full 33 percent declared that they never go to the movies. Several other recent studies (Gallup, Gordon Black Corporation, Barna Research Group, Media General) show similar percentages (ranging from 35 up to 45 percent) who stay away from motion pictures altogether.
The absence of these potential patrons has devastated the movie business. At the height of the usually prosperous summer season, ticket sales plunged more than 31 percent in 1991, bringing the feature film business its worst August in twenty-three years. Even video rentals, whose seemingly inexorable rise has played such a significant role in keeping struggling studios afloat, declined 6 percent during the year. Industry analysts reported that poor audience response to the new feature films had begun to rub off on the home video business, producing a new wariness on the part of prospective renters.
An upsurge in ticket sales during the holiday season generated some reassuring headlines about the movie business, but year-end reckonings offered no real grounds for joy. According to figures from Variety, 1991 brought only 960 million motion picture admissionsâthe lowest total in fifteen years. The first months of 1992 confirmed the disastrous long-term trend: according to Exhibitor Relations Co., a widely used box-office data tracking firm, movie grosses between January 1 and April 15, 1992, fell an additional 9 percent from their already dismal performance of the previous year. This meant reduced income for the major studios of some $200 million. During the usually busy Presidentsâ Day weekend, Variety reported that movie admissions fell a spectacular 30 percent from 1991.
As a result of the shrinking movie audience, the precarious economic situation of the major studios began attracting headlines of its own. Two of the industryâs most important and respected production companies, Orion and MGM, have recently frozen their release and production schedules as they teeter on the verge of financial collapse. Cannon Films and Weintraub Entertainment Group, both of them well-financed and high-flying independents as recently as a few years ago, have now closed down altogether. Even Carolco Pictures, producer of the yearâs top hit, Terminator 2, found itself forced to cut production and to lay off one-fourth of its employees as part of its December 1991 retrenchment plan.
Peter Dekom, the universally respected entertainment lawyer and show business analyst, describes the current condition of the movie industry as âa catastrophe.â In a widely circulated September 1991 memo entitled âChicken Little Was Right,â he concludes that âWe in the industry are all wondering how we keep our life-styles together, because each and every one of us knows this simply cannot go on.â
Sleaze and Self-Indulgence
Even without the pronouncements of experts, ordinary Americans understand that Hollywood is in serious trouble. As a point of reference, ask yourself a simple question: when was the last time that you heard someone that you know say that moviesâor TV, or popular music, for that matterâwere better than ever? On the other hand, how recently have you listened to complaints about the dismal quality of the movies at the multiplex, the shows on the tube, or the songs on the radio?
In recent years, not even Jack Valenti, the well-paid cheerleader for the Motion Picture Association, can claim with a straight face that the movie business is scaling new artistic heights. David Puttnam, Oscar-winning producer of Chariots of Fire and former chairman of Columbia Pictures, reports, âAs you move around Hollywood in any reasonably sophisticated group, youâll find it quite difficult to come across people who are proud of the movies that are being made.â In December 1991, industry journalist Grover Lewis went even further when he declared in the pages of the Los Angeles Times: âThe movies, which many of us grew up regarding as the co-literature of the age, have sunk to an abysmal low unimaginable only a few years ago.â
In fact, nearly everyone associated with the industry acknowledges the obvious collapse in the caliber of todayâs films, and at the same time manages to blame someone else for the disastrous situation.
Jeffrey Katzenberg, production chief at the beleaguered Walt Disney Studios, shrugs his shoulders and cites inscrutable Higher Powers. âWeâre in the hands of the movie gods,â he told the Los Angeles Times, âwho will either shine down and give us good fortune or notâŚ. Thatâs part of what keeps people going in this businessâthe magical and mysterious nature of it.â
Producer Gene Kirkwood (Rocky) offers a less âmagical and mysteriousâ explanation for Hollywoodâs troubles, pointing his finger at the writers. âWhen you look at the writing thatâs around today, most of which is not very good, it makes you want to go back to the old films,â he explains. One of the writers of those old films, Oscar-winner I. A. L. Diamond (The Apartment) in turn cites âthe lawyers and agents who run the studios, and the sublite rate subteenagers who form the bulk of the audienceâ for creating the present problems. Julia Phillips, the outspoken outcast who produced The Sting, specifically accuses Mike Ovitz, head of the Creative Artists Agency, who âfirst ruined movies, then sold out to the Japanese.â
Film critic Michael Sragow manages to identify an even more nefarious and omnipotent culprit, blaming the industryâs whole sorry mess on an over-the-hill Warner Brothers star who actually abandoned the movie business more than twenty years ago. Asserting that âAmerican movies are still reaping the harvest of Ronald Reaganâs reign of
mediocrity and escapism,â Sragow concluded in 1990 that it was actually the former President who âate Hollywoodâs brain.â
While searching for scapegoats, the entertainment industry ignores the obvious: that Hollywoodâs crisis is, at its very core, a crisis of values. Itâs not âmediocrity and escapismâ that leave audiences cold, but sleaze and self-indulgence. What troubles people about the popular culture isnât the competence with which itâs shaped, but the messages it sends, the view of the world it transmits.
Hollywood no longer reflectsâor even respectsâthe values of most American families. On many of the important issues in contemporary life, popular entertainment seems to go out of its way to challenge conventional notions of decency. For example:
- Our fellow citizens cherish the institution of marriage and consider religion an important priority in life; but the entertainment industry promotes every form of sexual adventurism and regularly ridicules religious believers as crooks or crazies.
- In our private lives, most of us deplore violence and feel little sympathy for the criminals who perpetrate it; but movies, TV, and popular music all revel in graphic brutality, glorifying vicious and sadistic characters who treat killing as a joke.
- Americans are passionately patriotic, and consider themselves enormously lucky to live here; but Hollywood conveys a view of the nationâs history, future, and major institutions that is dark, cynical, and often nightmarish.
- Nearly all parents want to convey to their children the importance of self-discipline, hard work, and decent manners; but the entertainment media celebrate vulgar behavior, contempt for all authority, and obscene languageâwhich is inserted even in âfamily fareâ where it is least expected.
As a working film critic, Iâve watched this assault on traditional values for more than a decade. Not only have I endured six or seven movies every week, year after year, but Iâve also received a steady stream of letters from moviegoers who are upset by one or another of Hollywoodâs excesses. At times, they blame me for failing to warn them ardently enough about avoiding a particular film; in other cases they are writing to express their pent-up frustration with an industry that seems increasingly out of control and out of touch. My correspondents frequently use words such as âdisgustingâ or âpatheticâ to describe the sorry state of todayâs films. In 1989 a young woman from Westport, Connecticut, expressed...