On July 2, it was announced thatGreta Gerwig, the beloved actress/director behindLady Bird,Little Women, and the upcomingBarbieis set todirect at least twoChronicles of Narniamoviesfor Netflix. Many were excited, or at least intrigued, by the prospect: after all, Gerwig has always been preoccupied with self-discovery and coming-of-age narratives, fantastical or otherwise, and her feminist worldview suggests that there may be justice for Susan Pevensie at last. Others, however, greeted the announcement with the abject despair ofCharlton Hestonfalling to his knees on the beach at the end ofPlanet of the Apes.
Lady BirdandLittle Womenwere both smash hits, bridging critical and commercial success while proving there was room for smaller-scale stories in an era of blockbuster domination. In addition,Barbiewas a huge successof the director, becoming the hit of the summer, to say the least.In a sane world, Gerwig would have a Spielberg-sized license to do whatever the hell she wanted for the next ten years.And now she’s attached to another exercise in wringing pennies out of a moth-eaten IP — forNetflix?
A beloved doll, known for her perfect life in an idyllic, colorful world, finds herself on an unexpected journey when she starts to feel out of place. Seeking answers, she leaves her fantastical home and steps into the real world, where she experiences the highs and lows of human life. With the help of new friends, she navigates the challenges of identity and purpose, discovering the importance of authenticity and inner strength.
The Relationship Between Director and IP Has Become Distorted
But in the arguments that followed - about the idea of “one for them, one for me,” about whether such an approach is even possible in this day and age, about the thorny politics of “selling out” and whether Gerwig’s gender factors into the backlash — little attention was paid to what Gerwig herself (or her agent speaking on her behalf) has said about the matter.According to her talent agent, Jeremy Barber, Gerwig’s ambition is to “look beyond…small-scale dramas” and become a “big studio director.”That kind of statement may seem tacky to some of the indie cinema purists in the audience (including this writer, at first); look a little closer, however, and it suggests that this is not the familiar power dynamic of the franchise era.
You can roll your eyes at Film Twitter histrionics all you like, but when it comes to franchises and other IP films, a degree of skepticism is always warranted. We’ve seen this ritual play out many times before. Young directors fresh out of Sundance are put in charge of a Marvel movie, given $100 million, and spend the next decade diligently coloring inside the lines instead of nurturing their own creative vision. In lieu of their passion projects, newly Oscar-nominated talents get handed the keys to a legacy sequel. (Did you loveLee Isaac Chung’s tender, evocativeMinari? Too bad!Have anotherTwister!) Even when the results are good, something gets lost in the rush to capitalize upon a recognizable property: theRadio SilenceScreammovies are fun, but not as fun as new, original movies from the guys who brought usReady or Notwould be.
This is not to say that there are no good IP films, or that every director of an IP film is a powerless puppet. But something is terribly backward about the whole state of affairs. Instead of a property being re-purposed to serve a director’s vision, the director is expected to serve the property, its fans, and the studio executives who cut them a nice check. This is why every Marvel movie feels like variations on a theme, and why otherwise level-headed people go into a snarling, feral rage at the mention of the name “Rian Johnson.” Hollywood has always been a sort of factory, but right now it feels like one of those tech-revolution cautionary tales: the only humans around are the ones who maintain the machines (and then go on a press junket to talk about how their latest round of maintenancewas inspired byAlan J. Pakula.)
Can Greta Gerwig Handle a Big-Budget IP Project? Of Course She Can!
So what makes Greta Gerwig different? For one thing, coming off ofBarbie, she has experience working with a big budget and everything that comes with it, from elaborate set design to negotiating with executives. There’s also the fact that, by going from a smallish budget to a mid-sized budget to a big budget for her first three solo movies, Gerwig has enjoyed the kind of natural career progression many New Hollywood auteurs, like Spielberg andGeorge Lucas, also enjoyed. (Compare withJon Watts, who went from making an indie thriller calledCop Carfor $5 million to makingSpider-Man: Homecomingfor $175 million.) In addition, Gerwig has always had an eye on populist appeal:Lady BirdandLittle Womencould be enjoyed by middle-aged moms as well as their daughters who work at Alamo Drafthouse, to say nothing of theBarbiejuggernaut.
And, of course, there’s the self-evident truth:Greta Gerwig is a rare talent, and she has more than earned the benefit of the doubt.After three films, she has already established herself as one of the most gifted active filmmakers in the American mainstream; a director capable of making a genre as familiar as the high school coming-of-age story feel fresh and alive and specific; a writer who not only adapted a beloved American classic but enhanced it. (Jo finishing her famous “women” monologue with the wrenching, half-sobbed “but I’m solonely!”was Gerwig’s idea; Amy’s monologue about marriage was written by Gerwig aftera suggestion fromMeryl Streep.)Interviews with Gerwigpaint a picture of a deeply passionate, extraordinarily detail-oriented director, a connoisseur of classic cinema who strives to make her sets aswarm and invitingas possible. If more directors like Gerwig were in charge of Hollywood blockbusters, the industry wouldn’t be in such a dire state.
Netflix and IP Need Greta Gerwig More Than Ever
It may be a while before the IP Era ends, but there are promising signs that the era oflazyIP might come to a close sooner than we feared.The Flash’s shameless fanservice and ghoulish parade of cameos couldn’t save it from being one of the biggest bombs in movie history;Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destinydid better, but it couldn’t overcome tepid word-of-mouth and fell victim to its comically bloated budget. The films that hit, likeSpider-Man: Across the Spider-VerseandGuardians of the Galaxy: Vol. III, had something to offer the audience, whether that was jaw-dropping animation or heartstring-tugging catharsis. (EvenThe Super Mario Bros. Movie, as pandering as it is, offered the novelty of seeing the world of Mario in all its animated splendor, with a smattering ofJack Black.) A franchise can only sustain itself through inertia for so long, and the same goes for IP in general; eventually, audiences will demand something new, something better, or both.
This makes a newNarniaadaptation for Netflix an awkward proposition. Netflix, after all, was instrumental in shaping today’s cinematic landscape, for better or worse: they led the streaming boom, turned mid-budget and non-genre moviesinto endangered species, dealt a major blow to theaters, and proceeded to spend a great deal of money making movies of, shall we say, variable quality. If they were to make a glossy, by-the-numbersNarniaremake with a few moments of fanservice — I can vividly imagine some executive writing “Tilda Swinton= Mr. Tumnus?“on a Post-It note and circling it — it certainly wouldn’t help with IP fatigue. But nor would it help Netflix’s filmic reputation, as memories ofThe Irishmanare replaced with a sea ofRed Notices. As thestreaming bubble shows signs of bursting, there will have to be some sort of pivot: if there were ever a time to prove that Netflix is capable of platforming genuinely great movies with populist appeal, it’s now.
Greta Gerwig doesn’t needNarnia, and she certainly doesn’t need Netflix.She clearlywantsto makeNarnia, and Netflix is a way to make that happen.But go back to the statement her agent made on her behalf. Her ambition is to be a “bigstudiodirector.” Not a big Marvel director, not a bigStar Warsdirector, not a bigTransformersdirector. Studio filmmaking is synonymous with this sort of IP these days, but it wasn’t always the case: the business has always been ugly, but it’s capable of creating wonderful things. And if I trust anyone to get big-budget cinema back on track, it’s her.
Barbieis available to stream on Max in the U.S.
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