The Perfect Length
When we were younger my brother and I had a pet theory that most films would benefit from their running times being cut down to 90 minutes. With precision and skill the body of a film would survive but be delivered in a lean and efficient new package. The thinking behind this blanketing was borne out of our experiences with movies wasting time with extended scenes, uninteresting and unnecessary subplots, and authorial indulgence at the expense of the viewer’s patience.
A frequent complaint I express about many films is about them feeling too long — it’s a rare occurrence that I say a film is too short. I’m sure many of us have experienced the sensation of a film dragging along, boring us, not capturing our attention. A bad film that has problems with pacing and storytelling won’t be saved by cutting and restructuring, but I believe most films that show promise can be saved with editorial finessing. Removing the bloat, cutting down scenes that are stretched out, can improve our enjoyment of a story.
There are several aspects of storytelling in relation to running time that can negatively impact our experience of a film. The reasons can be attributed to their artists, the financial incentive of producers and studios, and to the audience directly. This triangle is difficult to balance — delivering a final result that simultaneously conveys the author’s vision and satisfies both invested parties, executive and consumer.
Protraction
In recent years a new phenomenon has seen franchise films being drawn out across multiple entries. Seen in literary adaptations such as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 and Part 2, Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1 and Part 2, and The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1 and Part 2, the motivations and justifications by the filmmakers for dividing a narrative into separate entries allude to a story being ‘too big’ to fit into a single feature. To critics and theatregoers this reasoning is a transparent excuse by studios to sell more tickets at the box office — to attain maximum profits.
In many instances the opinion of the audience is that a divided story, however dense its literary source material may be, is often not enough to sustain more than one film. Certain elements are stretched and suffer from thinning. Prolonged scenes that do not advance the narrative or characters clutter the running time, and our viewing experience suffers as a result.
Perhaps the most flagrant effort to draw out multiple features from a single text, Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy, a prequel franchise to The Lord of The Rings, is the most perplexing. During a long development process that initially had Guillermo del Toro at the helm, Tolkien’s short book The Hobbit was first intended to be a single film. After del Toro left the project Jackson made his return and announced that the new film would be two parts and include material from the Appendices of The Lord of the Rings. Subsequent announcements confirmed the appearance of Legolas the Elf, the introduction of an entirely new character, expanded roles for minor characters in the book, and most notably that two proposed films would become three.
Acknowledging that The Hobbit did not contain enough material for three installments the filmmakers resorted to inventing new storylines and reintroducing popular characters from the previous trilogy. The original intention to faithfully adapt the book became a mission to create a new trilogy that would be the equal of its predecessor. For fans and critics the mission was a failure — the qualities of The Lord of the Rings trilogy were largely absent from The Hobbit trilogy, and rather than being cherished as a work of great fantasy filmmaking is instead viewed as a hollow imitation driven by business incentives and creative folly.
Butts in Seats
A successful opening weekend for large budget films rests on promotion in the weeks and months prior to release, wide distribution across multiplexes, and achieving the maximum number of screenings possible for a single screen per day. The longer the running time may be for a film, the fewer screenings will be possible each day. Studios and producers are conscious of this audience saturation early in a film’s development and will take measures to ensure that completed films do not exceed their maximum mandated running time. In contrast established, popular filmmakers are usually given greater freedom in relation to how long their films will play.
Compacting
In the face of studio pressure to cut the length of their films to increase the number of screenings per day, the director and post production team may excise prolonged scenes, subplots and entire sequences to accommodate them — as evidenced by press interviews and the supplemental material that often accompanies a home entertainment release. Alternatively the production may elect to trim and condense the whole film rather than removing certain elements.
In the latter characters, storylines and individual scenes will be constrained in an effort to fit more content into a shorter time. The natural pacing and attention needed to serve characters and the story is interrupted, thereby negatively impacting the collective viewing experience. Most recently the theatrical release of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice was criticized for its disjointed and abrupt editing. The overriding opinion of many was that too much material was crammed into its 151 minute running time at the expense of narrative cohesion and audience satisfaction.
Director’s Cuts/Extended Cuts
From Francis Ford Coppola to Terrence Malick there are numerous stories about the assembled first cuts of films spanning several hours. Over the course of weeks or even months a director, their editor(s) and the producers will refine and smooth that first cut into a product destined for theatrical release. With such aggressive cutting there can be disagreements between parties about what should survive and what will remain unseen.
The home entertainment release can be an opportunity for directors to present their vision as an alternative to the theatrical cut, which they may not feel is the complete story. Free from outside interference a director’s cut can reintroduce elements that radically alter the pacing, tone and overall experience of their film. In a boon for the studios a director’s cut can also draw further attention to a film’s home release.
Ridley Scott is such a filmmaker whose films have been improved with a director’s cut. Looking at the mixed critical appraisal the theatrical cut of Scott’s 2005 film Kingdom of Heaven received against the longer, more cohesive cut released on DVD at the time it is evident that films can benefit from respecting the creative decisions made by their directors.
However, studios have also sought to exploit this creative avenue by marketing home releases as ‘extreme cuts’, ‘extended cuts’ and ‘unrated cuts’ in a ploy to attract greater sales. Such alternate cuts don’t enhance a film’s story — they only serve to be a salesman’s pitching tool. There are also director’s cuts that are unnecessary and in truth act detrimental to the narrative, pacing and viewing experience.
To make a literary comparison an author must know their story and know its audience. A story may work better as a novella rather than a multi-volume saga, just as a story may work better as a short film rather than as a filmic franchise. A story must be balanced between an author’s intentions and a respect for their readers’ patience and intellect. Producers and studios who have invested their time and expense into a project must allow it to exist not merely as a means of business, but as a commercial art form, with the understanding that a good film will be a more popular film.
The natural length and progression of every film should be found and protected by its creators, and entrusted to its audience. It doesn’t matter whether a film is directed by Ridley Scott or Béla Tarr (I’m looking at you, Sátántangó) — a film should be as long as it needs to be.
Coming soon: Bad Movies with Great Musical Scores
