Everyone has a different answer for what they consider to be the best year for film was. There are a lot of variables that are dependent on your age and interests as well as how often you’re willing to go to the theaters. For some, that year was in the ’30s, ’70s, or ’80s. It’s tough to say if any of them are right outside of the intrinsic impact they have held on pop culture since. As we get closer to my generation, 2007 has been a general consensus with There Will Be Blood (2007) and No Country for Old Men (2007) leading a pack of very impressive titles. Even then, I want to go further. If you were to ask me what the best year for film was, I’d say 2012.
I could easily do a 40-50 part retrospective on every film that had a formative impact on me from this year. It was the start of the new superhero crossover era with The Avengers (2012) as well as the more socially conscious young adult titles with The Hunger Games (2012). Even Cloud Atlas (2012) promised a bold and new era for independent cinema. So much can be said about every one of these films and, since 2012 is still weeks old, I cannot confirm or deny that I will be returning to the big ones as time goes on. For now, I look back in awe. It has been 10 years since my favorite year for film. What a time to be alive.
Given that this is my 600th entry on The Memory Tourist, it only felt right to take a moment to look back and partake in a little nostalgia. As I skimmed through every film trying to come up with ideas, I eventually landed on another milestone that was worth memorializing: the end of the midnight screening. I don’t know if modern generations will ever appreciate the feeling of showing up to theaters at 11 P.M. on a Thursday and watching a movie immersed in a crowd of like-minded individuals. I was in the right age bracket to at least experience it for four years, creating a perfect social gathering for my friends. Being young, there was an allure of staying out late. When you exited, there was a sense that the world was asleep and you were existing in some other time. It was mystical.
Every midnight movie came about the same way. Someone on MySpace or Facebook (given year) would initiate the conversation. We HAD to go see this movie at midnight. This wasn’t some fear that spoilers would get out. There was just some excitement of being the first audience to see something like Watchmen (2009). When the crowd went to the regular matinees, you could brag to them that you had seen it, awaiting their opinion. Sure you often had a jetlag effect the following morning, but it was worth it. Even movies that had no cultural permanence like You Don’t Mess With the Zohan (2008) were meaningful because we had gotten there an hour early and were just having that typical rambunctious teenage conversation.
In all actuality, 2012 was the last hurrah for me and midnight movies. The writing had been on the wall for a few years. My friend Tony and I went to see Star Trek (2009) and had gotten there three hours early, believing that a midnight show would sell out. When it was discovered that, on a Thursday, there were 9 PM shows (and on the newly built IMAX screen no less), I became perplexed. What was this gimmick? Nowadays it’s more common and a way to bring out audiences too old to stay out until 2 AM. On some level, I think it was the right call (even if it was for a cynical cash grab). Though even then, the exclusivity of being there when everyone else was asleep was no longer special. There was nothing to brag about. By midnight, there were probably seven or eight screens in that one theater that could hold this achievement.
I wish that I could say that my final midnight movie was some triumphant masterpiece. In a year like this, there was no shortage of titles I would willingly submit myself to. And yet, the final title is one that, fittingly, reflected an old model of filmmaking. It was something going out of fashion, not unlike The Dark Knight Rises (2012) later that summer. The only thing that connects it to the present is that it was a sequel to a Marvel movie, though even that was about to be submerged under the new class of Marvel Cinematic Universe titles.
At no point would I call Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance (2012) a great movie. There’s very little that resonates outside of the broader strokes. The first thing that comes to mind is my friend Emily insisting that we were all pronouncing “vengeance” wrong and that Idris Elba’s Moreau got it right when saying “ven-gawnce.” She remains a Nicolas Cage obsessive, believing that he is one of our greatest living actors. It’s in the flamboyance, the willingness to do just about anything for a role. Given that he was firmly a B-Movie icon at this point in his career, I didn’t fully understand it other than I kinda liked Kick-Ass (2010). Still, her suggestion that Spirit of Vengeance was going to win “All of the Oscars” baffled me beyond belief.
This was during a time where I was hosting a podcast called Nerd’s Eye View. As much as I don’t miss going to see every forgettable movie every week, there was something dazzling about that era. I was also doing reviews for an equally defunct website called CinemaBeach, so I was entrenched in cinema more than I had ever been. Sitting around with those guys was a chance to open my mind to new perspectives, allowing me to recognize how we differed on everything. We’d bond over The Slashfilmcast and plan out our trips a week in advance. Sometimes they were obvious, but every now and then we’d groan at realizing how bad our options were. This was a time before streaming, where V.O.D. was seen as a positive alternative. Still, I would see anything if it meant getting to sit around for an hour and discuss it.
Emily had been on a few times by this point. Through osmosis, I became aware of Spirit of Vengeance and her tinfoil hat belief that it would be the greatest movie ever. On the one hand, I understood the appeal. It was co-directed by Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, best known for Crank (2006) and its sequel Crank: High Voltage (2009). Apparently, they had been at The San Diego Comic Con earlier and showed test footage from the film. They shot stunts from angles that looked dangerous, reflecting how risky this whole exercise was. Given that the trailers also featured Cage as Johnny Blaze (a.k.a. Ghost Rider) urinating fire, there was the sense that this was the bad-ass middle finger cinema needed. Never mind that this was: A. A sequel to the underwhelming Ghost Rider (2007), and; B. Neveldine/Taylor’s follow-up to their career low of Jonah Hex (2010). Superhero cinema had gotten a better rep in recent years thanks to Christopher Nolan, Guillermo del Toro, and Iron Man (2008), but it was the borderline to the dark ages when mediocrity was more acceptable.
I got roped into seeing it because, why not? So on February 17, 2012 at midnight, I strapped in for 95 minutes of this fever dream. At the time I wasn’t a big fan of action movies and had been learning with help of my friend Matt (also in attendance) how to enjoy the spectacle. I don’t know if this was around the time I saw Commando (1985) and could really appreciate Arnold Schwarzenegger’s otherworldliness, but I like to think it was. I could appreciate the cartoon nature of those types of heroes. Cage, meanwhile, would allude me for another few years. Hell, watching him sing “The Hokey Pokey” while assaulting a pool table in Mom and Dad (2017) resonated with me more than a guy with his head on fire driving a motorcycle.
There’s little to suggest that I’m alone in thinking that it was a flawed movie. On the one hand, it did deliver on everything that Emily said it would. There were action scenes from angles I hadn’t seen before. The story found Cage going even further into a manic state. So much of it had that aggression that I’m sure is supposed to be awesome, but I remember not caring. I think there was some plot about a satanic cult or kidnapping or something (or am I thinking of Mandy (2018)?). I so desperately wanted to appreciate this as pure adrenaline, but it was nothing.
In fact, the only moment that resonated with me in the moment was Cage’s line reading. He had just experienced a grandiose action sequence that was dazzling in its chaos. As he’s walking away, he seems unphased while saying “Well, that sucked.” I dropped that line on my friends in the lobby afterward and they laughed. I’m sure Emily acted like she had just ascended to a higher plane, but I was out at 2 AM having watched Spirit of Vengeance. I suppose the only positive thing I could say is that it sticks in my memory more than American Reunion (2012), which I saw a few days later at the same venue.
But again, midnight movies aren’t necessarily to witness masterpieces that evoke nuance. For decades, it’s the time when you let your ribald tendencies fly. Before my graveyard shift hours could be filled with depression, they were filled with me being able to watch cinema that felt dangerous any earlier. I don’t know that Spirit of Vengeance necessarily was that, but it definitely fit some B-Movie aesthetic that fit the mood.
This was a dying breeding, and it made sense to end on a film that was a financial success but largely forgotten. On some level, it had all the thrills you’d expect from a Neveldine/Taylor movie, but it was from an older way of making film. This wasn’t part of a bigger universe. There was no pressure to make a sequel. The only thing that mattered was using these characters to tell as wild of a story as possible. Unlike The Dark Knight Rises, this wasn’t a triumphant conclusion. It was just an excuse to watch Cage be Captain Insano.
It made Emily happy. We talked about it on the podcast and I remained the curmudgeon. While we would continue to do Nerd’s Eye View for another four years, this would be the last time that we’d ever venture that late into the evening as a group. This isn’t to say that I haven’t seen “late night” movies since, but they weren’t the same. It was 10 PM and I could get home by 1 AM for a healthy night of sleep. On some level, growing older makes me realize I couldn’t handle the midnight movie craze anymore, even for something I’m dying to see. Then again, it’s rare that I want to see anything on opening day anymore.
There are thousands of reasons that I hold 2012 in such high esteem. It was a formative year for me as a cinephile. If I wanted, I could easily run down 40-50 films that hold a special place in my heart, which I feel symbolize a year capable of appealing perfectly to every type of audience member. Spirit of Vengeance wasn’t on that list. It’s a film that has largely faded from memory save for this random trivia fact. It’s the last time I stumbled out of a cinema at 2 AM with friends, laughing and having a good time. I miss those days and wish I could experience them once or twice more. Then again, I don’t know if I could stay out that late to pull it off. Still, it’s a moment that I think modern audiences are missing out on, and I wish there was a group of high schoolers right now planning that trip right now. Maybe there is. Maybe it’s shown up in some new form. Whatever it is, I think this is a prime example of how theaters make all the difference in the world. Had I seen this at home, I probably wouldn’t think about it ever again. Because I was there at midnight, it lives rent free in my head, watching Nicolas Cage pee a trail of fire for all to see. What a time to be alive.
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