Another take on Martin Scorsese’s Marvel comments, as an aspiring filmmaker of colour

In 2019, Martin Scorsese drew up the ire of many comic book movie fans on social media when the Oscar-winning filmmaker had said Marvel movies “aren’t cinema.” As the initial interview went out of context, he took to the New York Times to publish the opinion piece “I Said Marvel Movies Aren’t Cinema: Let Me Explain.” If you haven’t read it, it’s a very well-articulated piece and it’s easy to see that Scorsese’s own love of film, when you’re considering the very sort of films that he grew up loving, goes many layers beyond — yet this doesn’t matter for those who dedicate their whole personality to watching Marvel films. Perhaps this is worth bringing up first and foremost, because of the fact that even now, it still stokes the fire on social media despite the fact that I highly doubt Scorsese is someone who has a bunch of angry Marvel fans at the back of his mind.

When I was a teenager, I remember feeling the excitement of seeing many of these films coming to theaters and seeing the characters that I loved reading within comics coming together. To me, it was always about the way that these characters were finally able to share one universe on the screen in some way or another that always got me fired up as a teen, to beat up bad guys even though we knew in turn that the story was just never going to end. If I were still 15 years old, then much of that excitement would still remain within me, but one can only remain a teenager for so long.

Throughout my high school years, I’d also felt that my own tastes in movies had since been changing. I went and caught The Wolf of Wall Street during its initial theatrical run (albeit with my mom together with me, because of the film’s 18A rating here in Canada) and fittingly enough, I stumbled across Goodfellas on television, surprisingly uncensored. As a teen, these films made a lasting impression on me, enough to make me want to check out more of Martin Scorsese’s films and as I slowly fell in love, it was this point in time where I decided that I’d wanted to become a filmmaker. I didn’t know what I wanted to make at the time, but I knew for a fact that it was something that I was hoping to set out for.

But even before I started film school, I’d already found that with my expanding taste in movies I wanted to see more than just the Marvel movies. Every Oscar season, I ended up coming in late because of the fact that most of the movies that were nominated didn’t even play my local movie theater minus a handful that were already popular in some level. I remember vividly having to ask my mom at the time to go take myself out of her own way to catch The Grand Budapest Hotel during its release date, because my local Cineplex (if you’re wondering which this is, it’s Cineplex Mississauga, the one close by the Square One mall) did not play it. They also never played Richard Linklater’s Boyhood as far as my memory can serve me, instead I’d have to go to the TIFF Lightbox just to see it and at that point in time, I was only ever allowed to go on some days rather than at the rate where I am.

So what exactly would be the worth in bringing up these films here, a conversation about Martin Scorsese’s comments on Marvel? The answer to that came down to many screens at the time were mainly dedicated solely to tentpole blockbusters or franchise films. You can just as easily say that these movies are what drive up business, but one’s own love of movies doesn’t think in terms of business — let alone I think it’s worth asking, why should they only be thinking in terms of business? To me, that’s never sat well with me because this way of thinking shuts out stories that would never otherwise be told, let alone reach the audiences that would be interested in seeing these stories. They only ever want to be fed stuff from one ever-expanding franchise and another, to the point that interest in anything outside gets dulled.

Now that I’m in film school and about to graduate no less, I have a better idea of the sort of stories that I want to tell. Growing up, I told myself that I should be learning from how the best filmmakers and storytellers have been able to create a great impact on their own audiences, because you have a better idea of the sort of stories that you want to tell and how you should tell them. Me, having grown up as the queer child in a family of Filipino immigrants to Canada, my own experiences and loves have already been cemented in my mind after I spent my teen years fine-tuning my own palette in films, as it continues expanding now. And of course, it meant that I’d went far beyond the films you’re bound to find on the IMDb Top 250, the Sight & Sound top 250, or any other collection of the greatest movies ever made that you can think of. For myself, I think that the greatest stories are built on how one learns from the best, to make their own stories into their own unique identities — and every great filmmaker has their own way of approaching that.

It’s been true especially of some of the great blockbuster filmmakers, for I remember as a child being entranced by the films of Steven Spielberg, as an example. When I recognized the names of actors all my life growing up, Steven Spielberg was a name that stood out to me, because every other movie I saw that was directed by him, I’d recognize his name first and foremost — for he was the first filmmaker that I saw on a similar level to which I did the stars. It didn’t matter to me at the time I didn’t know who was in Jaws, E.T., or Jurassic Park as a kid, I just saw “Steven Spielberg” and I knew already through said movies that watching them, I was completely in awe as I sat there as a kid. Just the name “Steven Spielberg” was enough for one to know that the audiences were bound to be packed, but that is, at least until recent days.

West Side Story bombed at the box office, it’d be one thing to blame everything on the pandemic but Spider-Man: No Way Home became a hit — making more than a billion dollars while a new variant of COVID-19 was on the rise. Personally, I can’t really buy that people were too concerned about their own safety if the only exception to going to a theater during a peak period during the pandemic was just so that they could see Spider-Man: No Way Home, which was always bound to bring in a large crowd, compared to something like West Side Story, where the auditorium I saw it in (I saw it on an IMAX screen), was near empty. To that end, I’d simply felt like I was completely entranced as I let the images capture me, and it reminded me of why I absolutely loved going to the movies.

Which I think brings up a problem with the way that the tide of the industry has changed. Gone are the days where films that meant something to the filmmakers on a personal level are taking the box office by storm, instead it’s the business that favours franchise after franchise making bank on an audience that’ll only seek out these movies. And I think it’s just unfair to the artists who make films that tell stories that mean so much to them, because the audience has now sought nothing more than the stories of ever-growing franchises, turning the audience interest even narrower than ever. Once in a blue moon, you’ll have the occasional non-IP hit by a smaller company (this year, we’ve had Everything Everywhere All at Once, to name an example), but they’ll never crack the top ten highest-grossing movies of the year in the same way that they once did in the past (that is, unless you’re going to cite Free Guy, which is owned by Disney and fittingly enough, references a lot of their own IP as well as stuff that gamers would recognize clearly).

In all fairness, the film industry has not always been the kindest to smaller movies. So I can’t say that I’ll ever come out of a smaller movie wanting it to be among the highest-grossing films of the year, but truth be told, it’s not like any of this ever mattered to me to begin with. It never mattered to me to think about money, just as long as I knew that stories I loved had their time on the screen, never to a point where it was in contention with the existence of superhero movies. Many people who’ve followed my Twitter page closely have been no stranger to seeing my criticize superhero movies for the homogenized feelings that I get out of watching each and every new Marvel Cinematic Universe movie for the matter (and adding to that, I hadn’t seen a single one that came out in this year). But they’ve never been about the art of cinema itself as much as they’ve been seen by Disney and the higher ups there as nothing but mere “content” in the same way that social media influencers refer to stuff they publish as “content” and not the art that it really is.

This isn’t me saying that I believe superhero movies can be devoid of feeling like a work of art, but at the rate they’re churned out, it’s hard to see them as feeling like a major “event” film in the same way that they’re poised to be. During the 2000’s, we’ve seen two perfect examples of how superhero movies can reach out for something greater in the forms of Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy and Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight trilogy. More recently, I’ll admit, that I was also a very big fan of Logan as someone whose favourite comic book series was X-Men growing up. And I also view Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as one of the best animated films of the past few years, maybe even that entire decade. Yet those films, part of a franchise they were, just felt like they were something special in a sea of monotony, which I’ve found that many Marvel Cinematic Universe films struggle to break free from.

But to bring up another example of how I’ve remembered what being part of an “event” film of sorts can feel like, I think it’d be easy enough for me to point back to Pixar films during their peak period (in my eyes, the string from Ratatouille to Toy Story 3 has maybe been the most consistent that any American animation studio could ever achieve). Every summer from this point in time, being among those who went to see a Pixar movie during their opening week was something that always made me and my family feel united — because at that point, there was only one coming every year and it was also the closest that I’d ever felt to getting the chance to experiencing films that would be in Oscar contention by that point in my life. I was still in elementary school, but even then I still remember being able to recognize that these films were impactful to me and even remain so now, for I’ll still find myself coming back to WALL-E remaining in awe at the overall scope accomplished in here, for I see it as one of, if not, the greatest American animated film of the century.

Of course, these films were made by artists who have very dedicated followings. But while some may say that in these trying times, the interest in the movie theater is dying because of the pandemic, streaming services like Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Disney+ are not the answer. When I watch a great film that happens to be a Netflix original, it only can have so much longevity on the service before they start to treat them as content to be fed into the algorithm, lost within a few months of having maintained its prominence during awards season. It’s shown itself to be the case with great films like The Power of the Dog, or even Scorsese’s own The Irishman, which couldn’t even be made if Netflix weren’t able to step in. For smaller filmmakers, let alone those who can’t quite accomplish the dedicated following that Disney has acquired over the years and are just getting their foot somewhere, this doesn’t feel very encouraging — because there can only be so much time before the work we create doesn’t seem so permanent anymore. It just comes and goes, with a new Netflix release date, only to be forgotten about, because to them it’s a piece of “content” that keeps the subscription.

Yet I also have a hard time believing that the movie theater is truly “dying” as a result of the pandemic. Big chains like Cineplex over here in Canada continually will filter out the films that don’t drive in large crowds for the sake of making room for the next Marvel movie, which will stay in theaters for maybe around three months, till the next one comes out. And for those smaller films who don’t already have that following, they’d only ever get so lucky enough to have audiences who are rushing to see them that aren’t already movie lovers who wish to be more adventurous with the stuff that they’re aiming to seek out. And frankly, while superhero movies are still coming out at the rate that they are, it’s hard for me to believe that the theater really is dying — but the industry’s favouring of them will end up harming filmmakers more than helping them.

There’s also the common defense coming about with regards to Marvel movies and how it’s often pointed out that Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino, who’ve been popular enough with many cinephiles but also generate some form of interest in the films that influence them, are white filmmakers, and they’re often pointing back at other white filmmakers in turn. But to me, this all rings very shallow. Yes, there was a point in history where the Golden Age as they term it, had prioritized hearing about white filmmakers but I never imagined that it was always about letting this aspect die out. And even if it were all about promoting more diverse voices within the film industry, then I highly doubt that the Marvel Cinematic Universe is the solution, when the franchise has already been formed through mostly white male leads and taking all the way until Black Panther and Captain Marvel for their first black lead and female lead respectively.

I’m also tired if anything, of being boxed in to have to support these films if I wanted stories told by people of colour to flourish, because making films within a longstanding franchise isn’t my way of going about as much as it is a means to appease a business model run by more white dudes in power like Kevin Feige. It might be one thing to say he’s someone who cares about the stories of the comics having their time on the big screen, but at the rate by which the filmmakers he chooses tell the stories that they choose, it doesn’t feel as if it’s very much about letting underseen audiences feel represented as much as it is sanitizing what we most want to tell, just so we can keep ourselves flourishing. Even with more people of colour heading a Marvel Cinematic Universe film, there’s almost no real uptick of interest in films by more filmmakers aiming to tell something closer to home, unless we have the wacky and bizarre projects coming about a la Everything Everywhere All at Once.

All of this to me, has been less about keeping the art of cinema alive as much as it has been about circlejerking back to “Marvel good,” which is why I hate seeing all of this come back so often. But with such a limited frame of reference for most moviegoers, it’s hard enough for me to always be able to say that this is going to keep the industry alive and well as much as it is going to be playing only into the pockets of bigger corporations. And with their dominance over everything else, it seems like the audiences are caring less and less about what made the film great beyond the superficial. That’s what especially doesn’t sit well with me, because I still have vivid memories of when films like Avatar drew in the wonder of seeing an alien planet in 3D, making you feel like you were a part of the world (and on that note, I also have an advance ticket for Avatar: The Way of Water, because I think James Cameron might be one of the best blockbuster filmmakers we’ve got around now). That same wonder doesn’t stick around from Marvel movies by my experience, for they’re just a cog in the franchise machine, no matter the audience they’re going to represent.

So what power do I even have in this conversation? After all, I’m still a film student and I want to make myself learn from the best, even after I graduate. I’m Filipino, and naturally it’s in me, to want to see more Filipino films, even though the access to them hasn’t always been the easiest — and among the few that are widely available by my hand are two films by the great Lino Brocka: Manila in the Claws of Light and Insiang. Which were restored thanks to the work of Martin Scorsese and The Film Foundation, to the point I feel like I had no excuse not to check them out. I’m simply someone who wants to tell stories that I can, and would like to see them reach audiences in some form while I have the opportunity as it slowly dwindles.

We’ve only come to a point where any sort of criticism levied against the Marvel Cinematic Universe has been met with nothing but backlash. But the superficial engagement that people take upon themselves with Scorsese’s initial “not cinema” comment or Quentin Tarantino’s “Marvel killed the movie star” quote by looking at the headline or trying to play the moral high ground just goes to show how their points are only being made stronger in turn. I expect that there will be a point where some angry Marvel fan reads this and they think I’m going to come from a place that sees Scorsese or Tarantino as some arbiter of what defines cinema and what doesn’t. Truth is, it’s been more than just that on a deeper level, and if these Marvel fans who cared about seeing representation within the film world actually did stick by their word, it’s something that they would be paying greater attention to while smaller filmmakers are being shut out for the next franchise movie and whatnot.

I think that when you’re at a point where a filmmaker who changed the tide for the industry by creating what became the quintessential blockbuster in Steven Spielberg is flopping twice in a row, for two films that he’d wanted to make for his whole life, then we’re at a point we need to take more initiative. Because I’d have to go out of my way so I can see The Fabelmans, which strangely never showed up at the Cineplex nearest to where I live, despite us being no stranger to showing any of Spielberg’s films regardless of whether or not it was bound to be a flop. I feel lucky enough I was able to see it with the sort of crowd that Spielberg himself had envisioned, when I saw the film at its world premiere at TIFF this year, but to think about how that’s the extent to which people will go out of their way to seek out stories that mean something greater to the storytellers who bring them out, especially when they’re at festivals, just feels devastating to me. Especially as it was, in my eyes, the best film I’ve seen all year round.

Films have always been more than just about the business itself. And occasionally, you’ll have the films that inspire a sense of awe and wonder through their sheer scope, but when the people up ahead are just bringing them out, thinking of them as “content,” that won’t be the case and they’re just another cog in an always expanding franchise machine.