Hiya Humpers!

Should that be the greeting for every Wednesday letter? I think it’s cute and not at all gross. It’s almost as beautiful as “tweeps,” a neologism that is now an . . . oldgism? A paleogism? Maybe that’s it.  

Anyway, hi. I’m sure many of you have spent the last couple of days dancing in the streets now that it looks like the Paramount acquisition of Warner Bros. is going to go through. There was a nail-biting moment there when it looked like the California government was going to stand firm on principle, but ultimately we had no reason to worry. Some concessions had to be made—guarantees to theatrically release a certain amount of movies per year, a commitment to producing films within the United States, and a minimum $5 million per year spend on independent projects—but for the most part, Sweet Baby Ellison and his kindly old dad got what they wanted. I can’t wait to see what wonders this brings. 

In truth, it’s hard not to see this as a disaster, despite some assurances to the contrary. True, Paramount was not producing a ton of movies (and was producing very few good movies) before this whole process got started, so it’s not exactly like we’re losing some major film studio in the merge. But there is certainly concern about Ellison’s quality control, and even more to worry about in terms of television. Consolidation really only benefits a rare few people—in this case, people who already have more money than anyone should ever be allowed to have. 

So it’s dark days yet again for Hollyweird, casting a pall over the otherwise triumphant procession toward Oscars that commences after Labor Day every year. Can you hear the distant tantaras of trumpets as the parade approaches your local indie theater? The prestige movies are a’comin’, and you’d better be ready to see them when they get there. We can’t let what happened to Paul Greengrass’s The Uprising—which seemingly caught us all unawares last week—happen to any other movies this season. 

Despite the trailer playing before pretty much every movie I saw all summer (minus, I think, Moana Live! and Minions: The Legend of Gru’s Gold), it seems no one was aware that The Uprising existed, because no one went to see it. Or they knew it existed and just didn’t care to pay to see a movie about a bunch of grubby English people milling about in fields yelling about revolution. The movie has made a paltry $5.8 million since it was wide released, and has already disappeared from a lot of theaters. That’s bad news for Greengrass, who hasn’t had a proper hit in ages, and not great for star Andrew Garfield, whose After the Hunt tanked last year and who just had a movie called The Magic Faraway Tree that made only $2 million in North America last month. Though, to be fair to The Magic Faraway Tree (which is about Garfield trying to score an invite to Taylor Swift’s wedding), documentaries don’t tend to be blockbusters. 

I should also point out that The Uprising didn’t cost too much to make; its reported budget was $20 million, a bargain considering Greengrass has said he was trying to do his version of classical epics like Spartacus and Gladiator. So the movie isn’t losing a ton of money, and thus probably can’t be called the Biggest Bomb of the Year or anything. But the studio, Focus (which is owned by Universal), was trying to make at least some money from it. 

They marketed it pretty heavily in theaters, and seemingly cared enough about its viability to have briefly and desperately retitled the movie to The Uprising: The Rise of Robin Hood. The Peasants’ Revolt of 1381 (which the film is about) doesn’t have anything to do with Robin Hood legend, but the movie does kinda wander in that direction at the end anyway, and I guess for a brief moment the marketing team thought that could be a selling point. (Why, because June’s The Death of Robin Hood did so well?) Though, shouldn’t it be The Uprising of Robin Hood? I mean if you’re going to put variations of the word “rise” in a title twice, they might as well match. 

Clearly the Robin Hood angle is there to add an extra oomph of relatability to the movie’s core message, which is about the common people taking on the indifferent elite who feed off of them. Or, is it? Curious if The Uprising was cruelly ignored or justifiably dismissed, I found one of the few theaters in New York City still playing the movie and went to a screening on Monday, curious to figure out what the movie’s whole deal is and to check in on Garfield’s hair transplants. (They’re growing in beautifully.)