cor·ol·lar·y
[kawr-uh-ler-ee, kor-; especially Brit., kuh-rol-uh-ree]
1.
Mathematics . a proposition that is incidentally proved in proving another proposition.
2.
an immediate consequence or easily drawn conclusion.
3.
a natural consequence or result.
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As a film student, George Lucas wrote and directed one of the seminal sci-fi movies of the 20th Century, THX 1138. Some would argue that it was merely a rip-off of "1984," but this was a film not from a novel, but for a solely cinematic medium, and a visually striking dystopian tale regardless of any parallels that can be drawn to other works. It's not exactly a popcorn movie, but it's pretty original by even today standards, to say nothing of the year it was released (1971).
In 1973, Lucas directed American Graffiti, about his experiences growing up in Modesto, California. A slice of life from his youth, the film was a critical and commercial hit, helping star Ron Howard make the transition from child star to Serious Actor, and at the same time catapulting him into opportunities to direct. There was not a single CG-shot in the entire film, because CG had not yet been invented.
In 1976 Lucas shot Star Wars, which was released the following year. The script was whittled down from a much larger, epic saga, a story which included the events of what would later become all three movies, if not six, if not more. It was edited, re-written, re-submitted, until ultimately a version existed (the final draft that would become the movie) that the studio was happy with, even though they didn't really want to make the movie anyway. Sci-fi wasn't exactly big business back then, but what the hell, he'd just directed a huge hit (Graffiti), so make it work for the money, and you can make your silly little passion project, George.
Everyone pitched in. Little humorous moments suggested by Lucas's wife at the time, ad libs by Harrison Ford, and I'm sure acting advice by the coolest motherfucker in the room, Sir Alec Guinness. If the studio did not like the actors, did not like the script, did not like the footage, this movie would not get made, regardless of Lucas' two prior feature-length movies, one of which was a school project. Much like The Sixth Sense, Alien, or The Godfather, here are n00b directors who must prove themselves to the studio. If the movie isn't good, or at least successful, the director can kiss his/her career goodbye.
So. Lucas took advice from all sides, and made the version of Star Wars we all know and love. The movie was a huge hit. He got more money to make the sequel, The Empire Strikes Back, and hired a renowned sci-fi author (Leigh Brackett) to help write the script, and hired his old college professor Irvin Kershner to direct. The movie was an even bigger hit, and one could argue, better than the original. Their feedback was essential to the final version of Empire. Other writers and another director were brought in to flesh out The Return of the Jedi, and that was that. Three hit films, and Lucas did not direct again from 1977.
Until.....
Until.....
Twenty years later. Now, if you're working for Lucas in 1977, and he says, "What if we made Han's sidekick a cute little 3-foot-tall furry dude," or, "What if Han shot second?" ... well, he's just your buddy from college, or perhaps the director of this shitty B-movie sci-fi film that you're convinced is going to bomb... you're going to tell him exactly what you think, which is that those ideas don't work. And, as mentioned above, that's what people did. Pages and pages have been written about this movie: writers, actors, producers, family, friends, everyone was a team player and everyone contributed, for the best possible version of Lucas's vision. Lucas wasn't shy about taking ideas and I hope we can all agree that the 1977 version is the best possible version of the movie.
Now, again: Pretend you're working for Lucas in 1997, the year Phantom Menace was shot. Lucas says, "Hey, how about we have a big, goofy caricature named Jar Jar who gets into wacky hijinks!"
I tell you exactly what you do. You're working for George Lucas, one of the most revered names in Hollywood (Howard the Duck notwithstanding). You have a good job working for LucasFilm, or perhaps ILM. You make a comfortable living. So, you do what any other employee would do: You get your assignment, and you animate Jar Jar. You give your boss what he wants, and then you go home.
What you DON'T do, is say, "George, that's fucking idiotic. What if we did (insert literally any other idea here) instead?"
Because you don't talk like that to a boss. It's show BUSINESS, after all.
Because you don't talk like that to a boss. It's show BUSINESS, after all.
And The Phantom Menace became a piece of shit, shocking and horrifying Star Wars fans the world over. While it grossed a huge amount of money on its release, (1) so did everything Michael Bay ever made, and (2) It's thirteen years later and we all know that The Phantom Menace is a piece of shit, justifiably mocked by most anyone over the age of five years old.
"The Phantom Menace Corollary" is an easily-drawn conclusion, stated simply that "following marching orders does not mean you're doing good work." Simply doing your job and collecting your paycheck, while certainly we all do need to be employed and be able to support ourselves, is not always the best thing for a person, for their bosses, or for the culture they love, work, or play in.
I have friends who work in the video game industry, and The PMC holds true there better than most anywhere, except for obviously the movies. The boss will not listen to anyone but the boss, so there is no collaboration. Either through stubborn-ness, or just sheer market research, the boss will stick to that plan right up until the moment it fails. To speak out against it is sheer foolishness-- you'd just be replaced by someone who does as told. Not that it would even occur to any of us to quit a job like that-- assignment, execution, completion. The end.
I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do with the PMC, but I know it when I see it, and I think you do, too. From Indiana Jones and the KOCS to Men in Black 3, to every Tomb Raider game in the last ten (fifteen?) years, this is just sort of what we're stuck with. We can't quit, because we need the job, but we can't offer our input, because we don't want to get fired. And our masters seem to be getting dumber.
Personally I'd like to take the power back, but continued efforts to tell stupid people they're stupid have proven unsuccessful.
I'm looking at you, George.
