What Defines A Great Film?
Image by L.E. Wilson from RedBubble based on definition from Dictionary.com
Professor, author, and radio host Mary L. Tabor graciously invited moviewise to be a guest writer on “Only Connect,” a newsletter about all things literary. The following is an extension of moviewise’s article, “The Art of the Screenplay,” published on September 15, 2022. If you’d like to delve more deeply into the meaning of art, beauty, and skill, please click here to read the original article, and let us know what you think!
In this special edition, moviewise throws down the gauntlet on what defines a great film, and asks readers to join in a quest to right an American Film Institute wrong.
Here is the thesis:
A good film that is well crafted in terms of cinematography, editing, sound/music, acting/animation, and story becomes a great film, a work of art—which means something that is beautiful, appealing, and of more than ordinary significance—if it makes the viewer think, i.e., if it has a message to deliver that lingers in the mind.
In brief, a skillfully made movie that makes you feel and think about a subject matter is stimulating you more than a movie that does only one of those things, i.e. only feel or only think. Hence, this type of movie is doing more, engaging at a deeper level, so it is better. The films that can do that are the great films.
The level of entertainment is not enough to consider a movie great. In fact, movies that solicit only an emotional or carnal reaction, e.g. pornography, slash horror, etc.—which no one doubts are extremely popular and entertaining—do not reach the same lofty level as those that in addition also induce an uplifting thought, a positive change in the mind, an enlightenment.
So just because a movie is well-loved and enjoyable does not make it great. People love and are entertained by all kinds of vulgar, base things that don’t elevate or nourish them in any way. Entertainment is not the same as art, which is an expression of the highest level of skill, and because of that, provides beauty. (The Latin word for "skill" is "ars" or “arte.”) In other words, art lets us experience beauty.
Great films are those that demonstrate the highest level of craftsmanship, and this includes delivering a significant message because filmmaking is storytelling and good stories have a point. Mindless entertainment is neither great nor art. We are human. We think. We want to learn. We’re not just sensory sacs of cytoplasm reflexibly reacting to physical stimuli. Therefore great art engages all of our faculties and our capabilities as intelligent beings who seek more than mere survival. We seek beautiful thoughts.
In this way we can look at movies as a product of the mind for the mind, that is, as a form of intentional communication. But the actual message that is received by the audience is of course subjective and individualized, as all forms of communication are. In appreciating art, there is always room for personal meaning and interpretation, so it is indeed somewhat idiosyncratic as to what the precise message of a movie is or what audiences want it to be. If we all saw everything the same way there would be no room for art; there would be no room for us. So the viewer may not hit on exactly what the filmmaker intended, but if something valuable and meaningful was gained, then that is an astounding feat, worth the label “great,” and it’s really only made possible if the filmmaker attempted to communicate something.
The ability of the filmmaker to relay a meaningful, insightful message in a movie is a difficult, high level skill, and it may actually be the most essential aspect of fine filmmaking and storytelling, since it requires the ability to deftly deliver a well-integrated, moving, and coherent message without being preachy, boring, or heavy-handed. A heavy-handed "message movie" is obviously not artfully or skillfully made, so it doesn't qualify as great because the message is not enough—that's just propaganda, or preaching to the choir, which only believers enjoy. If there were no message at all, however, then the movie would be lesser because there would be nothing to interpret, nothing to think about, nothing to learn. The interpretation of the message is how the audience interacts with the artwork. If there is nothing to understand, then it's not great art because it fails to fully engage our human capacity.
We hold movies to a higher standard of artistic expression, one that includes meaning, precisely because movies have the capacity to clearly articulate profound thoughts in an impactful, sincere way, full of feeling and emotion. The medium is multifaceted, so great movies can and do deliver powerful messages that can induce change in the people watching them. That is no ordinary achievement, and this change in someone’s mind is simply not possible if the message is not there or if it is not clear. Art is beauty, which can certainly be appreciated on its own, or for its own sake, but great art, additionally, has a message.
To give a concrete example, let’s compare two sci-fi films from the 1980’s: E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982), directed by Steven Spielberg, and Back to the Future (1985), co-written and directed by Robert Zemeckis. Both films were produced by Spielberg’s Amblin Entertainment company.
Immediately, there is a difference, as I’ve written before in the article,
“21 Great Movies Each Written & Directed By The Same Person”:
The better films—those that demonstrate real devotion and approximate perfection—are often written and directed by the same person. These movies are the result of individuals putting their all into making a movie, of working as perfectly as they can to bring a story to life, and the quality reflects it. When someone gives that much of themselves, it makes a noticeable difference.
E.T. the Extra-terrestrial, written by Melissa Mathison and based on a script by another screenwriter, John Sayles, is a movie about a boy and his dog, except that the dog is a visitor from another planet who does not do well on Earth and gets sick, so the boy helps the alien get back home. Back to the Future is a movie about a time-traveling teen in a DeLorean car (because why not do it in style?) who has to save his family and himself while battling against internal and external obstacles that includes self-doubt, bullies, multiple mechanical failures, terrorists, bad luck, and misplaced romantic afflictions. Phew!
The movie E.T. is very entertaining, very skillfully made, but it is not a great film and does not match the level of the movie Back to the Future. Why? Because E.T. has no integrated, significant, important, or valuable message. There is no wisdom in E.T. In fact, if you look at it closely you’ll notice that it has no point, or if you want to be generous, it has a trivial point to make about staying at home or going home, but no meaningful reason, no explanation, as to why this is worthwhile.
Which means that the ending of E.T., where the alien invites the boy into the spaceship and the boy refuses, is intellectually disappointing. If you had a chance to travel on a spaceship and discover more about our universe, go to another galaxy, wouldn’t you? Or if you refuse the invitation from a friendly alien, wouldn’t you at least have a darn good explanation as to why not? Needless to say, the movie E.T. doesn’t bother to explain why the boy, who isn’t really that happy with his life, doesn’t even give a moment’s thought to boarding the spacecraft.
In fact, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial is full of unanswered questions and inconsistencies. For example, if the alien has the power of flight, why doesn’t he help himself better to get to his ship? Why exactly does “E.T.” get sick anyway? Why does the boy ask “E.T.” to stay if he knows both that government scientists are after him and that “E.T.” will be ill and unwell on Earth? And this is how the movie ends? Literally with a whimper and a teary boy looking on as the spaceship leaves him behind to a mundane life?
There is no joy in this movie. In fact, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial is an emotional horror movie, yanking your chain, tugging at your heartstrings without mercy as a young boy and his dog are made to suffer, get horribly sick, and seemingly die, while an even younger girl, the boy’s sister, watches in distress. It’s emotional porn. 90% of the characters in this film cry. Some do so a lot. And those are real anguished tears running down the cheeks of six-year-old Drew Barrymore, who was too young to really understand that she was in a movie.
And what do we learn from all this? That we should strive to have regular quiet lives even if a spaceship lands in our own backyard. What? Talk about a lack of curiosity, ambition, or aspiration. There is no message to seize the day, suck the marrow of life, make your life extraordinary as in another great film, Dead Poets Society. What a bummer.
Back to the Future, also skillfully made and entertaining, meanwhile, ends in triumph, with fist-pumping joy. When this movie first came out and was shown in theaters, crowds spontaneously cheered and gave it a standing ovation. It deserves it. Why? Because Back to the Future fills you with confidence. It’s like a pep talk at halftime. It’s a rallying cry. And what is it saying, what is the message that is repeated over and over, shown, demonstrated by multiple characters, by the story itself? The message is this:
Learn to persevere—if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.
What a powerful message. What a wonderful message. What an important, life-changing message for those out there who are full of self-doubt like Marty McFly, who feel pushed down by life, unfamiliar with success. Multiple characters in this movie, Marty, his father George McFly, the scientist Doc Brown, and even the busboy at the diner, Goldie Wilson, learn the same lesson. Learn to persevere. Face the obstacles and keep going. Keep trying even if you only have two minutes and your car fails. Keep trying even if others see you as a failure and bully you because of it. Keep trying even if the floor crumbles underneath your feet. Keep trying even if no one who looks like you has succeeded. Persevere. This is how. Watch this movie.
It’s a great film, and by whatever metric you choose, Back to the Future deserves to be on the American Film Institute’s list of the “100 Greatest American Movies Of All Time.” But guess what? It isn’t listed, which is an injustice most profound. And guess what inferior film is listed at #25? Yes, you guessed it. E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. Boo! I say, BOO.
So all of this is to plead with you, dear reader, to please do what you can to right this terrible wrong. Back to the Future is an amazing, innovative, unique, inspiring, masterfully made film. It’s like nothing else you’ve ever seen. It is a great work of art and a great American film that has earned a place on AFI’s top 100.
I hope I’ve made the case for it. And I hope that you have found a movie that filled you with as much joy, wisdom, and guidance as Back to the Future has for me. In fact, I venture to say that if indeed you have found such a movie, one that you’ve connected to on a deeper level, then it was probably because of the message you took from it—the life lesson you learned from it.
For me, these kinds of messages are treasures, valuable guides that can help you through life, that can awaken your identity, that can resonate with truth and reality. Even research has found that meaningful movies help people cope with life’s difficulties. So because of this, I invite you to peruse the moviewise archive for more advice and wisdom from great films.
And never forget:
Our passion for learning, evident in the behavior of every toddler, is the tool for our survival. […] What distinguishes our species is thought. The cerebral cortex is a liberation. […] We are, each of us, largely responsible for what gets put into our brains, for what, as adults, we wind up caring for and knowing about. No longer at the mercy of the reptile brain, we can change ourselves.” — Carl Sagan, Cosmos, pgs 278-279.
Great films are beautiful and enlightening as a result of the skill that it took to create them, and what defines them as great works of art is that they make you feel—and most importantly, think—so choose your movies wisely.
If you’d like a more in-depth discussion on this topic, please read “Part 1”: “The Art of the Screenplay,” published September 15, 2022 on Mary L. Tabor’s “Only Connect.”
Visit the moviewise catalogue—a searchable database of one sentence movie summaries, movie quotes, and movie wisdom—for movie recommendations.
Also visit the moviewise store. Get a t-shirt, bag, or pillow with your favorite #LifeLesson from a movie. Reply to this or leave a comment below to make a request.
Wonderful post that expands on what you did and the conversation that ensued as we discussed art. Thank you for being my guest writer and for the chat that followed. And, a little P.S.: I love Tarantino and Terrence Malick, notably from Malick _The Tree of Life_ with a beautiful rendition of motherhood and the ethereal, in this flick, Jessica Chastain. Sean Penn and Brad Pitt gave extraordinary performances as well. Big xo to you, Mary
A great read, thank you!
Both E.T. and Back to the Future are hugely significant films in my life.
There are two very similar recurring themes in my life which I think about all the time: the need to not be lost, and the need to find my way home. Similar, yes, but different.
Back to the Future is a WONDERFUL treatment of finding the way home - more so than E.T., but perhaps that’s why - or because - it’s the better film. I cry buckets at the theme tune of E.T., because it reminds me of a time I got very lost, but Back to the Future - a film I’ve seen a heap of times - still makes me wonder every time I see it whether Marty IS going to find his way home. That cable-connecting scene makes me bawl like a child.