There’s probably a quote written somewhere calling upon never stealing or coveting any one item or physical being, or maybe one disregarding worshipping something one-note. I think the man who portrayed him on screen has been acting on all these things and more lately. There’s an aura to the idealistic style of Hollywood, USA that’s often swept over the city, and that they later push onto us. I’m referring to their golden child, movies. Things certain people dedicate their lives to, who sleep and breathe the stuff. A reputation of living in the act of film can be as easily summed up in as little words as the latest work of Roland Emmerich, not how far we’ve sunk but how far we’ve come. Bombarding effects; A-list actors. The power to obtain any CG artist, screenwriter or director out there; to make anything happen. A lot of Hollywood has been built upon the shear ability of creation, extremist entertainment to go to the ends of the world just in hopes of filling a single theater on a given night. There are those who put these works to good use (I can only think of a few examples have emerged thus far this year). Though maybe a single sitting is enough and you’re just aching for something you never have before.

There’s another option movie studios take too lightly as well, sturdy marketing campaign without cramming it down our throats. Making us eat it. If you turn on basic cable for even ten minutes you’re bound to witness an advertisement for this weekend’s blockbuster, the one they’ve held back from us until the Monday before its release to flash us glimpses of. Has this become routine? Would I prefer to see commercials for Salt in April? Maybe I’m just looking for something to complain about, who knows.

These past few months have been especially tortuous. Any movie geek who stays current with blogs or trailers or casting notes knows Martin Campbell’s 2011 epic The Green Lantern, starring Ryan Reynolds in the titular role (and Blake Lively, whose character could probably be described in the same words) is coming, and no one is going to stop from digging up costume design, set photos, or any other minimalist brouhaha. Don’t get me wrong, I can get behind any superhero movie, especially when it’s good. (I’ve seen any given Batman movies, be cool.) Today’s flicks have seemingly morphed into narcissistic villains whose projects are never that worried about its audience. Hell, we pay. Spider-Man 3 stunk, but we gave it $336.5 million. They might be misinterpreting fanaticism, or they really just don’t care anymore. Because, indubitably, we pay. We pay to see anything Hollywood lurches out, every weekend. Because movies are sport, not only on the screen but some of the most fun stuff takes place off it. I’d love to see who’s directing Thor or what the Green Lantern’s costume is made from. It’s a matter of nitpicking perfection, and to fully please the real junkies there needs to be a steady build-up. Look at Watchmen, which did exactly that, and still bombed.

Sure, just this past weekend Christopher Nolan’s Inception was able to remain trippy and true to its fans and audience alike. A miracle? Nolan got us excited long before the film’s July 16^th release date by not showing us much but showing us something. Let’s go back to The Green Lantern, which has shown us what looks to be every boring, indulgent aspect of the thing a year before it comes out. Blake Lively is the Megan Fox, and Ryan Reynolds has dozens of CG renderers behind him and a six-pack in front. Who cares? When I say productions are misunderstanding fanaticism, it’s to say our idea of it has been frazzled by marketing wigs. That’s why every blog or site you’ll visit this week will be serving asinine stills of Kenneth Branagh’s Thor and The Green Lantern. We’ve come to expect this nonsense, and even I’ll admit to sort of forcing myself to hype the two. To my own ego, I could care less.

A solution isn’t mandatory because if your movie is good, word will get around and people will still see it. But right now there’s nothing being left to the imagination. Shall we pull a Jonah Hex and show nothing until the shallow few weeks before its release date, to remind us the property is still alive? Maybe it goes back to creating a good movie, not having to worry so much about marketing or whatever fanboys are able to get their hands on to show their respective pals of the same interest. These two aforementioned capers could be great, for all I know. This isn’t fanaticism we’re feeling for them, though. Each souped-up banner is another example of negligent derogation.

Agree or disagree?