In Praise of Short Movies
Yesterday I watched the 1990 Nicolas Cage vehicle Firebirds and while it is, on an objective level, a terrible motion picture, it was not entirely without redeeming facets. There’s the historical importance of Cage starring in the first of what will eventually be several thousand forgettable, interchangeable action movies for money, of course.
Then there is Cage’s performance, which is so comically over the top in its depiction of red-blooded, flag-waving, All-American machismo that it comes off as a demented parody of Tom Cruise in Top Gun rather than an imitation. I’m also rather partial to Tommy Lee Jones’ scenery-chewing, buffoonery-sanctioning turn as Cage’s passionate mentor in the art and science of killing from above.
But more than anything what I appreciate most about Firebirds is just how fucking short it is. A little less than eighty minutes after it opens with, of all things, a quote from President George H.W Bush, the credits begin to roll. Eighty minutes simply doesn’t give you much time to wear out your welcome.
Firebirds knows damn well that it’s barely a movie. So it has the decency not to waste too much of the audience’s time. As a father, small businessman and prolific pop culture writer I am perpetually running out of time. So much of my day to day life is about time management and finding the time to churn out a full day’s worth of work with my wife and two children and mother-in-law in the house indefinitely so when I encounter an 80 to 85 minute long movie it feels like an exceedingly modest gift from the Gods of cinema.
I have an innate fondness for short movies. When I look at the runtime for a movie I’m about to watch and it’s less than eighty-five minutes long I get excited. When it’s longer than two hours I brace myself for tedium, boredom, self-indulgence and waste. It's rare for me to see a movie and think, “Man, I wish this movie was WAY longer” but I constantly find myself wishing that a movie could be way, way shorter.
Part of my knee-jerk aversion to bloated runtimes is practical in nature. I can get more accomplished if a movie graciously lets me out after 80 minutes than if it greedily takes up 140 minutes of my time. This is particularly true if it’s a Transformers or Pirates of the Caribbean sequel. You’re the cinematic arm of a robot-car toy line and a theme park attraction, respectively. Do you really need casts full of some of the most distinguished actors and artists of our time and 150 minute run-times? Can you really justify that level of length and bloat?
If a movie is longer than two hours, it better have a reason for its length. Its length should be a product of ambition, or audacity, or the organic needs of the story and not a frustrating inability to separate the good from bad and the necessary from the ragingly inessential.
If a movie is not good then cutting it down to 80 to 85 minutes almost inherently renders it way more endurable. If it’s good then cutting everything down to the bone will only make it better. A reasonable length doesn’t inherently make a movie tighter or more efficient but it certainly helps.
Don’t get me wrong: I love long movies like The Hateful Eight and The Irishman, both of which I may or may not see at some point in the future but my innate preference is for short movies. I know I am not alone.
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