Here we are now, entertain us

An acquaintance of mine recently said of the upcoming Avatar sequel, "James Cameron says it would be a shame to not use all the unused material from the first film... yeah, and it would be a shame not to make all that money, right Cameron?!" Immediately, others chimed in and the consensus was clear: James Cameron is a bastard for wanting to give people a sequel to what is now the highest-grossing film of all time, and as a collective, we are personally inconvenienced by films making money.

It's interesting to me that in general, we don't apply this sort of benchmark to other professions. When our construction worker buddy talks about how much he loves his job, we don't roll our eyes and say "yeah, and I bet you love all those sweet paychecks, too!" We don't write Facebook updates excoriating the mercenary greed of the daycare owner or the freelance graphic designer. The successful pop singer or actor, however, surely cannot pursue their chosen profession out of love -- not if they're also getting paid for it, the rats.

Is it the sheer amount of money that puts us off and hems us into baring our teeth at Hollywood? Or, somewhere in our heart of hearts, do we feel big-budget filmmakers, who spend hundreds of millions making a movie, should also be altruists who hate money, the fuel for the engine that drives their careers and their artistic endeavors? One gets the feeling that between helming massive technology-driven films, directors should retire to the mountains of Tibet and contemplate the cypresses in the garden.

Now, if one is not entertained, that might justify shelling out hard dough with the left hand even as you lift the right to smite your tormentor. We as Americans tend to have a love-hate relationship with our entertainment. We seek out the most interminable dross on cable, flipping through channels until we light upon the least objectionable thing we can possibly tolerate, and proceed to endure it like Alex undergoing the Ludovico Technique.

Geeks in particular love to dismantle their entertainment products, poking holes until only the rattiest framework remains. Criticism and fan rage become a means of engaging with the material. Ever wonder why you see so many lengthy blog posts and videos criticizing, in excruciating detail, material the writer supposedly hates? Because hating it is how they enjoy it.

But none of this explains why we turn up our noses in disdain at the successful Hollywood product. Perhaps because the gigantic piles of money remind us that the movie business is just that; a remorseless, grinding machine that occasionally produces things of beauty and resonance, but will also lob those things at us like stones until we can take it no more. Hollywood will entertain us, grudgingly, but like a feral dog, it will turn on us without warning. And so we defend ourselves with derision, praying for the day when artists no longer have to eat.