What Hollywood Could Learn from the NFL

This week, our friend John Nolte over at Big Hollywood offered Ten Ways Hollywood Can Win Its Audience Back, many of which resonated with my Seven New Year’s Resolutions for Hollywood. One of the points John made was that Hollywood should be more like the NFL. While John didn’t go into great detail, the subject is worth elaborating upon, which, as further evidence that great (Conservative) minds think alike, I did roughly three years ago when I was blogging at (now defunked) Bomb Proof Roll. In the interest of keeping the conversation going, I present again that column from 01.26.2009:

The week prior to the Superbowl is usually a week of publicity, suspense and sky-rocketing expectations. While many of the early Superbowls failed to live up to all the hype, more recent ones have quickened the pulse of even the most jaded sports fan. The NFL has eclipsed Major League Baseball as the National Pastime, and is a model not only for other spectator sports, but for any entertainment industry competing for the public’s leisure time. With the Hollywood box office dwindling again this year, perhaps it’s time for the Studios to ask, “What’s football doing right?”

Ever wonder why there’s the perception that when a pro basketball player like Ron Artest gets in trouble, there’s a problem with the NBA, but when a pro football player like Pacman Jones gets in trouble, there’s a problem with Pacman Jones? The NFL has a clearly defined pecking order: League, Team, Player, which, because it is consistently applied, has seeped into the psychology of its fans. Fans watch the NFL, root for their team, and have favorite players, in that order. Thus the foibles of particular players don’t taint the team or the league.

Hollywood used to operate on similar principles. When there was a “studio system,” the moguls were concerned about the image of the industry and took steps to protect that image. Each studio had its niche within Hollywood, so moviegoers knew what to expect when the MGM lion roared or the bold WB badge faded in. Performers, even stars, knew they came third and if they became an embarrassment, their contract’s “morals clause” would be invoked and they’d be out on the street. The result was a Hollywood which the American public idealized, granted brand loyalty and admired for its glamorous stars.

Today’s Hollywood is a star-first culture, where stars are free agents and studios have no interest in protecting their image beyond the release of a single picture. Studios will rapaciously exploit a fresh face, then deftly move on when the public tires of her. Overpaid and overexposed, stars wear out their welcome with the public, which is force-fed unflattering images by the tabloids. Since stars are now the focus, anything they do or say reflects not only on themselves but on Hollywood-at-large. Thus when Sean Penn sings the praises of Hugo Chavez, the public gripes, “That’s Hollywood!” forgetting Gary Sinise, Joe Montegna or Denzel Washington, all generously advocating for America’s veterans. Certainly if every NFL player were seen as Michael Vick, the fan base would erode; as Hollywood has become identified with Michael Moore and Steven Soderberg, more and more Americans are saying, “I don’t go to the movies anymore.”

NFL franchises have built state of the art stadiums, with alcohol-free family sections. The League has developed the best television coverage of any major sport. Contrast that with the pathetic state of most movie theatres across the country. Sticky floors, sagging seats, and poor projection onto shrunken screens are just the start of the problem. The indifference of many theatres to the rowdy or rude behavior of its patrons has convinced many former movie-goers that it’s better to stay home and join Netflix. While Hollywood cannot control the management of theatres across the country, its revenue-sharing plan is so out of whack, that theatres have no choice but to fall into disrepair and do away with ushers.

Another problem has to do with distribution. The NFL is conscious of getting viewers for all of its product. Small city a la Green Bay or sprawling metropolis a la Dallas, each franchise has a chance to be seen and succeed. Contrast that with Hollywood distribution. How frustrating is it, especially during the summer “blockbuster” season, when a multiplex with sixteen screens will show only ten films, all puerile, adolescent sex-romps, eight of which are also playing at the ten-plex across town, and there’s not a single film for grown-ups! Meanwhile, worthy independent films get totally shafted. How many weekends a year can you have a segment of your audience conclude, “there’s nothing playing at the movies,” before they stop inquiring?

Week in and week out, the NFL puts an excellent product on the field. NFL games are nearly impossible to predict with any consistency. Woeful underdogs rise up and topple division leaders. Witness the improbable drive of the Arizona Cardinals to this year’s Superbowl. Contrast that with the formulaic, predictable product that Hollywood puts out. While the NFL is constantly evolving, scheming to surpass the system that was successful last season, Hollywood is continually looking backward, recycling the hits from the past instead of taking chances on something new. And if Hollywood doesn’t succeed in wringing every bit of novelty and invention out of a film, it will still ruin it by revealing every plot twist in the overlong trailer.

The NFL cares about the product it puts out, enough to institute instant replay to make sure that officials get the calls right. When they do blow a call irreparably, as the usually-reliable Referee Ed Hochuli did this season, they have the integrity to admit it and apologize to the players and fans. When’s the last time Hollywood apologized for one of its bombs? What Hollywood does is double or triple its saturation advertising to hoodwink the audience into showing up first weekend before word of mouth leaks out. And it’s not just the studios who are to blame: Al Pacino has said he knows he gets paid a lot more to act in a lousy film: “The worse the script is, the more money you’re offered. Show me a bad script, and I will show you a big payday.” When consumers can’t trust the product, they’re going to stop paying for it. All of this seems lost on Hollywood, which takes a dim view of the audience’s intelligence.

The close relationship the NFL has cultivated with its fan base has given the fans a rooting interest, not only in their own teams, but in virtually every game they watch. The disdain that Hollywood exhibits for moviegoers has resulted in a schism. As Hollywood’s self-congratulatory Award Season unfolds, there will probably be less and less interest from the fans. The question is, will the smog of narcissism be pierced? Then will anyone in Hollywood try to repair the damaged relationship between industry and audience?

……

It’s been three years since I wrote those words. And nothing has changed, except maybe it’s a little worse. My team, the New York Jets, got closed out of the playoffs and deservedly so. But I will watch with interest nonetheless, rooting for any number of worthy franchises and hard-charging athletes. What’s playing at the multiplex? I couldn’t tell ya.

Tags: Hollywood, NFL

This entry was posted on January 4, 2012 at 5:19 am and is filed under Kevin Rush, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.