3-D Thinks It's Back...

“3-D is back!”-- a reference to the new Sony release Monster House (Dir. Gil Kenan 2006), “And it’s better than ever!”. Upon reading the article, the world stutters back, aghast. Hmm. Well, there will certainly be more than one person who looks around at the rest of the slack-jawed zombies beside them, stands up, and demands “Oh no it isn’t!” 

There are only two ways people are likely to know there was 3-D in the fifties: 1) they‘re old enough to remember how crap it was, or 2) their eyes are keen enough to notice that Back To The Future (Dir. Robert Zemeckis 1985) is set primarily in the fifties, and that one of Biff’s crew wears 3-D glasses throughout (he’s even called 3-D--would you believe) . Just why he wears 3-D glasses throughout remains to be seen, but I like to think it a nod to one of the lamest fashion accessories ever invented.

Part of reason that 3-D never really took off; those big, cardboard things you had to wear, which failed to sit comfortably on anyone’s face, and looked like they were made on Blue Peter. In fact, would anyone be surprised? Anyone?

And so the question begs to be asked: just what is the point in producing more 3-D films, to show through fancy new projectors, onto fancy new concave screens, if we still have to wear those god-awful glasses?

Or, perhaps more importantly, what’s the point in producing more 3-D films, to show through fancy new projectors, onto fancy new concave screens… if those projectors and screens are only fitted in certain cinema, and therefore, in Britain, are only available to those audiences who are willing to travel to Bradford, Manchester or London?

Well, there’s a simple answer to the latter question, and we all know it. That’s right, Hollywood doesn’t really care about the UK. Why should they, when Pirates of the Caribbean 2 (Dir. Gore Verbinski 2006) grosses $414,013,957* in the US, and a mere £51,044,338 ($96,019,296)* in the UK? What’s ninety-six million dollars?

Hollywood’s films--not all, but the vast majority--are aimed at an American market. They don’t have taps, they have faucets. They don’t have spanners, they have wrenches. They don’t have boots, they have trunks.

But then… surely Americans have the same qualms with 3-D that we do.

“3-D is back!” after, for some reason, it was killed off in the mid-eighties.

One word: Multiplex. When the demand is for “more!”, quantity overshadows quality. There was no way every new multiplex could afford one 3-D suite, since so much money was already being spent on the six, seven, eight--sometimes eleven and more--ordinary projectors and screens.

Jaws 3-D (Dir. Joe Alves 1983) might well have been a sight for sore eyes, but if you wanted to appreciate it, you had to sacrifice whatever street credibility you might have, by donning a pair of those cardboard glasses.

The years ‘86 through 2000 are what those in the 3-D business call “the renaissance”, while most people would question the existence of 3-D at all through this period.

Truth be told, this period of fourteen years is when Imax is coming into its own. Finally, there was a decent means of exhibition, through sophisticated projectors, onto massive silver screens. And all you had to do, was put on some cardboard glasses, and--

Remember that year there was a special screening on the BBC, in 3-D, and you got your glasses free with your TV guide? Remember what it was about?

No, not many people do. But you remember picking up those damn glasses and laughing to yourself, don’t you?
So what now? All these computer generated films must surely have an effect on 3-D.

Well, yes, they did. Remember Antz (Dir. Eric Darnell, Tim Johnson 1998)? It’s the one that wasn’t A Bug’s Life (Dir. John Lasseter 1998), but may as well have been. Like Deep Impact (Dir. Mimi Leder 1998) and Armageddon (Dir. Michael Bay 1998); no-one knows what they were thinking. Well, Antz had a trick up its sleeve. Oh yeah, 3-D, baby.
It was just like Harry Stamper--Bruce Willis’ character in Armageddon; it was bullish, it was arrogant, and in the end, it died, and left only the most sensitive members of its audience weeping.

2006. Monster House.
Unless you happen to stumble across an American article about it, you’re hardly even likely to notice that there’s a 3-D version of the film. Because, unlike Spy Kids 3-D, there’s been no advertising for it.

Monster House is a traditional, 2-D film, for traditional theatres, which has been rejigged for 3-D, and been released in two formats at the same time. Why? Who knows. Where is the appeal in watching a story unfold in 3-D? What is the point in feeling like you’re there--in the situation with the characters--if you have absolutely no influence on the narrative whatsoever? If you’re not even acknowledged?

In fact, what’s the point of having cartoon characters and sets three-dimensionalised in the first place? For realism?

Glasses and expensive production and exhibition aside, there’s only one major flaw with 3-D; the destruction of the fourth wall. The screen, the camera lens, through which we, the audience, watch the characters’ lives unfold, does not exist in 3-D film. You are in the action; the characters move around you, as if you could get in their way.

But, it is still a film. There is no reason for you to be in the environment with the characters. Seeing everything in 3-D does little, if anything, to further suspend your disbelief. It can be argued, in fact, that 3-D diminishes your ability to identify with the characters. 3-D takes away from the story you are watching unfold. 3-D is simply technology showing off what it can do. But why?

3-D fails because it puts the audience in a position where they are part of the characters’ surroundings, but are ignored completely. The audience are no longer scopophiliacs spying on the lives of other people; they are a part of those peoples’ lives, standing before them as they throw pots and pans at each other.

Or on the other end of the spectrum, there are made-for-3-D films, in which there is a terribly annoying character--usually a cartoon/CG person--talking directly to you the audience, as though you care about what is happening around you. Talking to you, as though you and s/he are of the same world. Completely devaluing your humanity, quashing your freedom of speech and capping your right to decide what you want to do for yourself. They’re like an evil, two-faced tyrant, speaking to you nicely, while forcing their will on you--taking you where they want you to go, showing things they want you to see, and trying to make you feel empathy for them and their world. And the worst thing about it is, the only thing you can do about it is take off those damned glasses and walk out of the theatre.

You know, as you storm out of those doors and cross your arms in a huff, that the evil little guide person has carried on with the 3-D tour regardless of your leaving. They don’t care. And yet they expect you to care about them.

3-D is not back. 3-D is trying to ride the wave that CG caused when it crashed into the sea of cinema. In 2006, the tide is going out. We’ve all seen CG films now, and the appeal is fading. Toy Story 2 (Dir. John Lasseter 1999) didn’t really look any better than Toy Story (Dir. John Lazzeter 1995). Very few people in the general public, who pay to see these films, can tell the difference between the animation of Toy Story and Finding Nemo (Dir. Andrew Stanton 2003). None of them really care.

Watching Monster House in 3-D is probably a thrilling experience, with jumps and bumps to boot, but that’s all it is. No longer a film, it is an experience. It is usually a bad experience.

For 3-D to work, there needs to be interaction, between the audience and the world in which they are being placed. There needs to be interaction between the audience and the characters around them. There needs to be choice, there needs to be expression, and there needs to be a reward at the end of the line.

3-D cannot survive as a gimmick. Sooner or later, it will cease being a quirky kind of lame, and will finally hit the not-even-funny-anymore kind of lame, with a resounding thud, echoing through each and every household across America, and indeed, the UK.

The only way 3-D can survive in cinema, is as part of something bigger. Rather than seeing itself as a step forwards from colour, like colour was a step forwards from black and white, it should think of itself as a step to the side. 3-D is a fling; something to keep us entertained while our ongoing romance with colour slowly whittles out. Though our relationship with traditional 2-D colour films does simmer, thanks to the likes of widescreen, digital and high definition, we do long for that next step.

Like we dumped black and white in favour of something better, we’re ready to dump 2-D colour, and move on to the next step of viewing pleasure.

But, while 3-D might be a part of that future, we know that it will not be the whole of it. If 3-D were going to whisk us off our feet, it would’ve done it a long time ago. So, we just flirt with it.

3-D is where we go when we get desperate. When 2-D colour gets us down, and we feel like a change, 3-D rears its ugly mug. And when we wake up in the morning, we feel dirty. We sneak off without a word, going straight back to 2-D colour with open arms.

And this is what we’ll continue to do, until something better comes along. Until something new finally does whisk us off our feet.

D.G.

*source www.imdb.com; figures from September 3 2006