Guardians of the Galaxy, hitting theaters near you in a few short hours, is really good. I'm under embargo, but I don't think the studio will get too terribly upset if I tell you that I think it's the best movie of the summer.*
And it's the best movie of the summer in large part because of Chris Pratt, who you may know as the lovable goofball/dimwit Andy on Parks and Rec. He's just perfect in Guardians: funny, at ease doing action, kind of bro-tastic with just a hint of smarmy charm. If this movie had come out two decades ago, he'd be in line to become a Will Smith/Tom Cruise-style star.
This is what Christopher Rosen is getting at in a piece headlined "Thanks to Guardians of the Galaxy, Chris Pratt Is Our Next Giant Movie Star." And I don't really disagree with anything Rosen writes in his analysis, exactly. But the problem is that Chris Pratt can't be our next giant movie star. We simply live in a post-movie-star world.
Ours is an age of brands. Leaving aside the artistic merits of Guardians of the Galaxy, which are many, I'm fascinated by the box office potential of this picture. Because it seems to me that this is a $170 million budgeted comic book film that is relying on neither an actor nor a character to put butts in seats. Rather, the studio is relying on the Marvel Logo. The gambit is both simple and impressively bold: When audiences see this
will they respond, "Yeah, you know what, I've seen the rest of the movies this studio has done and have enjoyed them. I'll go see this."** An age in which a logo is more important than anything else is not an age in which movie stars can thrive.
Think about it: We have yet to see a replacement for the last generation of huge movie stars. It's been almost 15 years since Harrison Ford could be counted on to singlehandedly open a film. With a $97 million domestic gross, Edge of Tomorrow is Tom Cruise's highest-grossing non-franchise picture since 2005. Will Smith's fortunes have taken a precipitous hit since the release of Hancock in 2008. Danny Ocean's crew (Pitt, Clooney, and Damon) have always been extremely hit or miss at the box office. Take Johnny Depp out of Captain Jack Sparrow's (or Tim Burton's) mascara and he can't open a picture. Leonardo DiCaprio is close to the real deal, but even he has enough $30 to $40 million grossers that it gives me pause.
When I was putting together my list of American cinematic icons under 50, I was kind of surprised by how old most of them were. But it's hard to think of legitimate big screen icons in the mold of a Ford or Smith or Cruise under the age of 50—and almost impossible to do the same for anyone under 30. As much as I love Jennifer Lawrence, her commercial success is tied to two major brands (The Hunger Games and X-Men) and one major director (David O. Russell). I honestly have no idea if she can open a movie on her own.
None of this is a comment on the artistic achievements of any of the above: I love them all and think they all do great work. Frankly, I'm glad we live in an age in which Brad Pitt feels comfortable taking on a Killing Them Softly even though there's a better-than-even chance very few people will see it.
But the "giant movie star," as a concept, is on its last legs. Brands put butts in seats—not faces.
*Check back tomorrow morning for my full review.
**I'm an okay box office prognosticator and I have legitimately no idea what the floor or the ceiling of Guardians is. My official (domestic) prediction is ... I dunno, let's say $210M, a figure that puts it just ahead of Thor 2. But I wouldn't be shocked if it grossed $350M on the strength of word of mouth, or $110M based on people shying away from a movie about a talking raccoon. I just don't know.