We currently live in a golden age of media – from television to movies, there is more choice of what to watch than ever before in human history. From big-budget Hollywood blockbusters to smaller, independent productions, we can find a multitude of stories to satisfy our entertainment desires. However, in some ways, the medium hasn’t changed at all since its inception – there will always be trends in the marketplace that drive the industry forward and are replicated over and over until the desire of the general public eventually wanes (and sometimes even after). From the age of the western to the era of so-called “torture porn,” these trends define the types of thinking that dominate the space at any given time.
In our modern era, the line of thinking that has become the de-facto industry norm is that of the “shared universe” – often also called a “Cinematic Universe” after its mainstream popularity following Marvel’s titular series of films. That said, what works for one story might not always be right for another. This is a hard lesson that many artists learn when attempting to replicate the success of others in their field. It’s also why, despite the still-current popularity, I maintain that not everything NEEDS to be a cinematic universe.
Let’s discuss.
A Brief History
While certainly not called that at the time, one of the earliest examples of a shared “universe” or continuity of disparate films can be found in the “Universal Monsters” series. Up until that time, most films were stand-alone stories whose characters or events were confined to the runtime of the feature – or, at the least, the individual series. For instance, you might see the same actor play Sherlock Homes across multiple films, but each movie more or less stood on its own and certainly didn’t interact with anything outside its source material.
Then, once Universal started their original run of classic monster films – Frankenstein, Dracula, The Mummy, The Wolfman, The Invisible Man – things began to change. At some point, producers at the film giant realized that while each of these characters is a draw in and of itself, there might be merit to combining the popularity of these creatures into a single film. Allowing Frankenstein to fight the Wolfman. Having Dracula meet Abbot and Costello. Making each of these characters interact with each other in a way previously unseen in film.
Of course, while it was certainly impressive at the time, it was never seen as a formula to be replicated by other “series” (not that there was a glut of such things at the time). Moreover, there were few, if any, continuing storylines that tracked from film to film – the closest of which might have been Lon Chaney Jr’s performance of Larry Talbot (aka. the Wolfman) and his search to free himself from the aforementioned curse. But even that was a quite loose connection and was even undercut a bit for the comedy of seeing him “re-cursed” for his appearance in the Abbot and Costello movie.
One primary driving factor for this might have been the way that movies were distributed and consumed at the time. Home video was decades away and few films, if any, were ever re-released in theaters once their original runs ended. That meant that only a select few people would have likely made it a point to keep up with every film in a “franchise” (I use the term loosely here). As such, you couldn’t rely on any member of a given audience to be familiar with any of the characters or events from any previous entry. So, this not only meant that any continuing subplots needed to be very clearly re-explained at the beginning of each film, but they also didn’t need to be too complex. As such, while these films were some of the first to connect a variety of characters into a cohesive collection of films, there was very little continuity – either from the storyline or of specific actors portraying the characters (Lon Chaney Jr, aside).
Jumping Ahead
While there are no doubt other instances that could be mentioned – including Toho’s Godzilla and Kaiju films of the 50s-present (many of which consisted of the same types of loose connections that plagued the Universal Monster films) – I’ll instead choose to jump all the way to 90s for the next example. In 1994, an aspiring filmmaker by the name of Kevin Smith created a small independent film by the name of Clerks. The storyline, set almost exclusively in a small convenience store in New Jersey, told a day-in-the-life tale of a couple of twenty-somethings trying to navigate their lives… and tell jokes while referencing pop culture.
The film was a critical and financial darling and pushed Kevin forward in his career. Over the next decade (and even further, as of recently) he would create a series of films set in what was at the time (in quite the prescient naming scheme) referred to as the “View-Askewniverse” (named so after the production company involved). While each story was more or less standalone – covering topics ranging from fallen angels to sexuality to Hollywood adaptations of comic books (yet another thing ahead of its time) – there was a strong connective tissue that kept them all in line.
For one, many characters seemed to know each other and would often reference mutual acquaintances, shared events, or even the events of other films. Not only that, characters that appeared in one film would often appear in subsequent films, often with little or no additional introduction to the audience. Viewers were just expected to be familiar with who these people were and what their histories were in the larger scheme of things – even when they were played by actors who themselves played yet other roles in the world (Ben Affleck and Jason Lee come to mind as prime examples). This could – and sometimes did – result in the same actor appearing multiple times in a singular movie in various roles, none of which is elaborated upon by either the story or the characters – we’re just expected to KNOW.
This type of storytelling likely comes from Kevin’s strong love of comic books. In those, complex plots that resolve over the course of multiple issues (or series) are not uncommon – in fact, it’s the norm. Readers were used to following along as various plot threads continued over multiple series, only to coalesce in large events such as “Secret Wars.” While unfamiliar, generally, with film audiences, this strong connective tissue was quite the draw for fans of Kevin’s work (myself certainly included). It was the first time I can remember seeing a world that felt “alive” in a more cohesive way. It spurred me to always be excited for the next film he put out, as each one was another part of the continuing story and characters that I loved. While every film had its own plot and sensibilities, it made all of them feel a part of a greater whole. It made them feel special and it made me feel like I was “in the know” in a way that no other series had.
It is at this point that I also have to make an aside and mention what is, for me (and I suspect many others), my favorite part of this shared universe – Jay and Silent Bob. Portrayed by Kevin’s longtime friend Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith, himself, these two lovable and utterly entertaining characters have appeared in every “Askewniverse” film to date – Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Clerks II, Jay and Silent Bob Reboot and Clerks III. Not only are they and their performances absolute scene-stealers, but I would also argue that they are a big part of why so many people felt compelled to watch many of these films over and over (taking nothing away from any of the other actors, of course). In fact, I maintain that there are precious few films that couldn’t be improved by large or small roles for Jay and his hetero-life-mate, Silent Bob (Scream 3 being a prime example).
Now, while these films were and continue to be quite beloved and popular, the idea of a larger connected series of films was still rather niche. That is, until…
Enter Marvel
All that changed in 2008 when Marvel Studios, having sold off the rights to many of its most popular characters (such as Spiderman and the X-Men) to other studios, released the independently-financed Iron Man. The film was not only a big success for a previously B-Tier character, it was quickly followed by solo films for other Marvel heroes such as The Incredible Hulk, Thor, and Captain America. Each of these films not only introduced a new Marvel hero to the masses, but they also began laying the subtle groundwork that they might all be building to something greater (kicked off by the now-infamous after-credits scene of Tony Stark meeting Nick Fury in the first Iron Man).
This all came to head with the release of The Avengers in 2012. This film saw all of the previously mentioned heroes meeting up with one another, joined by Hawkeye and Black Widow. Only by putting aside their differences and working together are they then able to defect the threat of Loki’s (Thor’s brother, introduced in his titular movie) invasion of earth. While this sort of crossover is something comic book fans have gotten used to on the page, they and general audiences were now experiencing this thrill for the first time on the silver screen. Getting to see personalities and plots created separately now interacting and playing off of one another. As much as the plot entertained audiences, many were even more engaged by the sheer thrill of seeing these once-separate characters on screen at the same time. Iron Man verbally jousting with the righteous Captain America. Hulk smashing Loki. Thor slamming his hammer into Captain America’s shield. All felt not only new and novel but also epic. They felt important. Like an event.
Unsurprisingly, after the rousing critical and financial success of the film, the newly-minted “Marvel Cinematic Universe” went on to dominate the decade – releasing over 20 films, all building and culminating in 2019’s Avengers Endgame. With nary a financial flop to their name, this success propelled Marvel – and the concept of the interconnected cinematic universe – to new heights. In the midst of all this, other studios began taking notice. They started to wonder if their own comic book properties shouldn’t also try the same approach. This line of thinking eventually led to DC’s shared universe of films – a collection of tales that tried their best to fast-track the success of Marvel, by throwing all of their characters together as soon as humanly possible, without first attempting to build them up in the own right as interesting or relatable. To say that this didn’t pan out the way they had hoped would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, this wasn’t because the concept of “crossing over” their own comic-based heroes was any less valid than that of Marvel – it was a failure of execution. There was greed, envy of Marvel’s success, and a desire to immediately replicate it, regardless of the practicality of doing so on such a truncated timeline. It wasn’t that the idea couldn’t work, it was that they just assumed that all that was required was the collation of all their characters into a single scene – as opposed to the careful world-building and steady buildup that Marvel chose (admittedly out of prudence and budget).
Despite DC’s lack of “success” on the scale of Marvel, this did not deter other studios or franchises from eying this same model. After all, audiences were seemingly hungry for connected storytelling and there was too much money on the proverbial table. As a result, in their haste, many films quickly began to lay the groundwork for their own eventual universes and team-up films. In doing so, while chasing the golden goose of profits, they neglected to realize the underlying, simple truth…
Not Everything needs to be a Cinematic Universe
Not every storyline or character needs to extend beyond the bounds of its own film or franchise.
There, I said it.
While this might seem like obvious advice to many of you, let me assure you that this isn’t at all the case in Hollywood. From a business perspective, in fact, this is quite counter-intuitive. Not only do they have a clear example of it working to the extreme (with Marvel), but it also allows them to sell audiences on new or otherwise untested characters or stories (like Marvel did with Guardians of the Galaxy). After all, while the general public might be wholly unfamiliar with who these characters are (there was a talking tree and raccoon, for god’s sake), they could be assured that these characters were going to be important to the ever-expanding storyline (It also just so happened to be that the film itself was expertly cast and written).
With all these potential upsides, there truly seemed to be no downside from a business perspective (and, let’s be clear, for as much as it’s about art, the film industry is first and foremost a BUSINESS). However, as we’ll soon see, that was a gross misunderstanding of the situation. Not only have countless franchises and studios tried and failed to create their own cinematic universes, they often did so at the expense of the very films they were attempting to build them on.
Whether it’s the shoehorning of Flash and Wonder Woman into Batman v. Superman or the many links between the Conjuring films and the doll-based Annabelle, franchises from across the board have all tried their hand at making a cohesive cinematic universe. While some of these were no doubt more successful than others (horror as always tended to embrace such crossovers more readily – such as 2003’s Freddy vs Jason), most of them failed miserably. Perhaps the singular best example I can think of (besides the previously mentioned Batman film) is that of the progenitor of the model itself – Universal Studios and their attempt to create what was then to be known as their “Dark Universe.”
The idea, simply put, was to re-create in the modern day what had been done back in the 40s and 50s – to bring together all of their famous and iconic monsters (Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy) into one large and cohesive franchise. Only this time, rather than being isolated to a loosely-connected series of films, they were to be brought together in the grand and epic style of the Marvel films. Because of this, the intention to create said universe was announced to the public and released with a large cast photo containing all of the eventual stars… before the first film in the franchise (a reboot of The Mummy) had even been released.
This bit of overconfidence read more than a little like arrogance on behalf of a studio that had yet to even produce a single entry in this would-be saga, never mind see an audience’s response. While one could look at their history with shared universes involving these characters and see where they might be coming from, the presupposition of success – and of a long-running franchise – on the backs of nothing more than mere intention was quite the turn-off to anyone aware of it (whether or not they were excited by the concept).
Of course, all of this entitled self-congratulation on behalf of a soon-to-be hyper-successful cinematic universe could have been mitigated had the first film released to rave reviews. Sadly, this was not the case. The film itself, a Tom Cruise vehicle, not only failed to enthrall audiences, it spent a good deal of its runtime introducing characters and ideas that only existed to tease future installments – Russell Crowe’s Dr. Jekyll foremost among them.
Instead of being intrigued by a solid story and enticed to see what incredible events might lie in the next “entry,” audiences were underwhelmed by a studio that seemed content to sacrifice the quality of the current story on the altar of “world-building” (Never mind that the best attempts at doing so are usually subtle and only exist to serve the current story and characters). As a result of this, not only did the movie flop, the entire “Dark Universe” was scrapped before it even began, with none of the other films ever produced (there was an Invisible Man movie eventually made, but it seemingly had no connection to the original universe).
While it’s possible to break down the many failings of Universal Studios in this saga – by asking questions like “What would have happened had they kept the entire idea of the “Dark Universe” secret and only hinted at the larger world, subtly, with each film?” or “How would things have gone differently if each entry in the franchise had been written to be as interesting and engaging as possible, on its own merits?” –, I think the more important lesson to take from this is a simple one:
That, as incredible as it is when a cohesive cinematic universe is brought to life, it’s not always necessary or desirable for every story. Some tales and characters are meant to exist in their own separate reality, untethered to any other property. They are meant to follow their own path and – horror upon horror to any studio executive – even END.
There is no need for a universe where Brody from Jaws meets Ethen Hunt from Mission Impossible. We never need Mad Max to duke it out with John McClane. As fun as these ideas might seem in theory (and I’d argue might even work in one-off comic books), they add nothing to the charm and enjoyment of their respective franchises. If anything, they actively harm and dilute them. Not only that, but when done incorrectly, it can almost seem to devalue and commoditize these once-impactful and special stories – causing them to feel less and less like individual works of art and more like (and I shudder at the word) content.
Conclusion
While I could no doubt go on recounting various other individual instances of failed attempts at creating interconnected cinematic universes, I believe that the proof is in the pudding. While there have been several notable successes in this model, even fewer have managed to capture the imagination like Marvel (a series that, itself, is now starting to feel the fatigue post-Endgame). While the rewards for a successful universe are plenty, it’s important to keep in mind that they are not the only way forward. Letting a story or character breathe is just as (if not more so) important.
The best cinematic universes are those that were arrived at naturally. They allowed the stories and the characters to evolve and grow until they reached a point where such connectivity was not only warranted but desired. The interwoven nature of their storytelling lifted the material, not hindered it. It was a freeing action rather than a shackle.
Simply put, it was right for the story.
Like all things in media, being honest and serving the story at hand should be the primary driving factor when it comes to entertaining an audience. It is that honesty that connects people to their favorite characters and what causes them to revisit them again and again. It’s what tells you whether or not you need a sequel or if “one and done” is the correct approach.
When we (or studios) fail to grasp that fact, we are left with the hollow desire to replicate what worked for others, with no regard for how it impacts the quality and truth of the story at hand. We, ironically, alienate the audience we are attempting to attract and reveal the callous emptiness behind our objectives.
This dishonestly to the story is something that viewers can pick up on. It’s what makes them disconnect and disengage from material that they feel doesn’t respect them. It’s exactly why the notion of chasing trends rather than setting them so often fails (or, at the very least, fails to meet the heights of the original).
All in all, while there will no doubt be wondrous journeys into cinematic universes (universi?) in the future, as creators and audience members, we always need to ask ourselves if that methodology fits the story we’re telling. If it’s necessary. If so, then, by all means – push onward! But if not… just remember the simple truth that current Hollywood has seemly forgotten:
Not everything needs to be a Cinematic Universe. And that’s okay.
P.S. – That said, don’t let any of the above dissuade you from writing cameos for Jay and Silent Bob into your film. Much like salt and pepper, they make most everything better. Snoochie-Boochies! 😉