Bummer Summer
On a bad batch of flicks and the decline of Hollywood.

Mr. Podhoretz is a columnist for the New York Post.
September 1-2, 2001

he motion-picture industry is almost 100 years old. And in all that time, in almost a century, there has never been a film season as unrelievedly, unimaginably, irredeemably awful as Hollywood's Summer 2001.

And Hollywood is crowing, because this most awful of summers has been the most profitable quarter in history. Or so they tell us. Actually, profit margins in the film business aren't all that great. What's more, ticket prices are increasing far more quickly than inflation, which means that fewer and fewer people are going to the movies.

This is a far more significant fact than this summer's box-office numbers. Hollywood is slowly but surely killing off its own audience. The average moviegoer takes in a film at the multiplex only three times per year — and an outright majority of Americans never even enters a movie theater.

Contrast this fact with 1946, when an estimated 90 million people went to the movies every week. In 2001, the number is closer to 20 million. Granted, there was no television in 1946, so the only competition in the field of entertainment was radio. But there were also 100 million fewer people living in the United States in 1946. No matter how you figure it, Hollywood is presiding over its own decline.

As a result, a movie can make $200 million at the box office and yet make hardly a dent in the national consciousness. That's an amazing change when you consider that Casablanca made about $8 million at the box office in 1942 — which is the equivalent of only $70 million today — and yet it turned Bogart and Bergman into legends almost immediately. Everybody in America was saying, "Play it again, Sam," and those words don't even appear in Casablanca.

Now consider: Have you participated in, or even overheard, a conversation about Rush Hour 2, the season's most successful film? The movie's star is a man named Chris Tucker. He also starred in the original Rush Hour. Tucker was paid $20 million to appear in Rush Hour 2. Ever heard of him?

That's the most startling thing about the degeneration of Hollywood: Even its stars aren't as bright as they used to be. Ah, I can hear some ideologically unfriendly visitors to NRO shout out: You people haven't heard of Chris Tucker because he's black! Well, consider this: When Eddie Murphy made his second film, Beverly Hills Cop, back in 1985, he became the biggest star in the world. Immediately.

Mark Wahlberg stars in Planet of the Apes, the season's second most successful film. Wahlberg is a terrific actor. He was brilliant in Boogie Nights a few years ago. A few years before that, he appeared semi-nude in Calvin Klein ads. If he walked down the street, would you recognize him? What about the four boys who star in American Pie 2? Jason Biggs? Seann William Scott? Chris Klein? I can't even remember the name of the fourth guy, and I'm paid to do this.

Who are Hollywood's major stars? Julia Roberts — who made her first megahit 10 years ago. Tom Cruise — who hit it big 18 years ago. Harrison Ford? Twenty-five years ago. Tom Hanks? Seventeen years ago. Mel Gibson? Fourteen years ago. Even Jim Carrey, the newest member of Hollywood's royal family, was minted in 1994. The only performer in recent years who might make it into this pantheon is Russell Crowe, but his staying power is yet to be demonstrated.

The lack of starpower and cultural reach cannot be blamed on the growth of cable TV or the Internet or what have you. It's all happening because movies stink worse than they ever have. I'll explain why next week.

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