OTwo Co-Editor Joshua McCormack discusses the rise and consequent fall of the Disney sequel, and why they make so many.
'Break glass for sequel'. Such is the desperate philosophy that runs rampant through modern Hollywood. Should a film have the audacity to underperform at the box-office, the studio executives mutate into more-affluent, less-intelligent versions of Frankenstein; would-be-necromancers become convinced that they'll somehow manage the near-impossible alchemy of resurrecting retired franchises to their former heights, adding a second, third, fourth, or – in Toy Story's case – fifth-act to long-completed stories. Resurrecting childhood classics, to ever diminishing returns, until there's nothing left of what made the original so special – the inevitable march of time will bring us titles like Toy Story 9: Andy's Revenge, and Ratatouille 3: Remy vs Carmy.
This phenomenon is replicated across Hollywood; be it Sony's flailing attempt at relaunching Ghostbusters with Frozen Empire, Lionsgate and their disastrous Hellboy reboot starring David Harbour, or the slew of unsuccessful Terminator sequels churned out by Paramount, modern Hollywood is littered with desperate, creatively-bankrupt attempts at recapturing the past.
However, if you're looking for the kingpin of franchise grave-robbing, then look no further than the company responsible for the notorious franchise flops of Indiana Jones. This is, of course, Disney.
Having spent the past twenty years buying out rival-studios – Pixar, Lucasfilm, Marvel, Twentieth Century Fox – Disney enjoyed what seemed like an unshakeable dominance at the box-office. Now, they find themselves thrashing in the creative quagmire that their rivals have struggled to escape for years; and what's more, they have become the poster boy for a decaying Hollywood.
Star Wars, once the jewel in their crown, has crashed and burned into poorly-executed television, Marvel is a memeified-joke, and sequels to once-revered properties, like Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, are laughed out of theatres. Their response to these disasters? 'More Sequels.'
Disney seems intent on pursuing its sequel-driven trajectory, specifically focusing on animated films - Toy Story, Moana, Incredibles, Frozen, and Zootopia all have upcoming sequels announced. Such announcements usually fall hot on the heels of box office bombs, like Wish, Strange World, Turning Red, and Lightyear. However, the recent proliferation of Disney/Pixar sequels isn't exclusively a result of their animated failures; the studio wants to use these follow-ups to help fill the ruinous financial gaps that misfiring Marvel, Lucasfilm, and Twentieth Century Fox films have left behind.
The drive for animated sequels should be considered alongside Disney’s historic expertise. Disney was built on animation, dominating the industry from the early 1930s, when classic fairy tales like Snow White, Dumbo and Fantasia first appeared in cinemas, until the late nineties when Steve Jobs helped found a groundbreaking, CG-based animation house, Pixar – a moment which threw open the floodgates for other animation studios to enter the hitherto monopolistic market.
In the age of ballooning budgets, where blockbusters cost hundreds of millions to produce, perhaps Disney has finally decided to rein in costs, recognising the cost value of animated features.
Then there’s the financial side of the equation - compared to the cost of live-action features which demand sets, cameras, catering, stunt teams, special effects, studio space and a small army of employees, animated films are considerably cheaper. In the age of ballooning budgets, where blockbusters cost hundreds of millions to produce, perhaps Disney has finally decided to rein in costs, recognising the cost value of animated features.
And last, but certainly not least in Disney's thinking, is the nostalgia factor - milking jaded millennials for all they're worth. A generation of fans with discretionary income. Enter Disney, armed with trailers, posters and social-media posts, scientifically designed to crack open purses with the emotional crowbar of sentimentality, teasing the scraps of money from their wallets with memories of their childhood. But why does Disney struggle to create original stories? And is there any studio in Hollywood faring any better?
Comparing their recent performance to that of other Hollywood Studios, it's clear that Disney is, ultimately, a victim of its own success. Disney, with its political connections to US Lawmakers, its bottomless store of IP, and its commanding stake in the entertainment industry, is simply too big to fail. That's the problem.
There was a pressure to their creativity, a necessity to produce something special or risk never producing anything again.
Before it started devouring Hollywood, Disney was a studio much like the rest, competing at the Box Office with a relatively even hand. The success of their animated films like Aladdin and Snow White mattered for the fortunes of the company. There was a pressure to their creativity, a necessity to produce something special or risk never producing anything again. What they had was pressure, and now thanks to the company's varied interests in entertainment and beyond, the studio can sit comfortably, greenlighting sub-par plots for an easy release; why bother taking risks when it's already quite comfortable atop the financial pile?
If there's a lesson for Disney, it's this: remember where you started.