Perhaps one of the reasons I’m drawn to independent films, rather than what spews out of Hollywood, is that indie movies are not so subject to the corrosive effect of studio doublethink.
Hollywood sells ‘product’ that has been moulded as much (perhaps more) by PR, marketing and sales departments as by creative people.
As Raymond Chandler said about the creativity of the screenwriter, in his famous essay ‘Writers in Hollywood’ (published in 1945), which I’m currently re-reading: “That which is born in loneliness and from the heart cannot be defended against the judgment of a committee of sycophants”.
And his comment about Hollywood in general still rings true today:
“Its vision of the rewarding movie is a vehicle for some glamorpuss with two expressions and eighteen changes of costume, of for some male idol of the muddled millions with a permanent hangover, six worn-out acting tricks, the build of a lifeguard, and the mentality of a chicken strangler. Pictures for purposes such as these, Hollywood lovingly makes. The good ones smack it in the rear when it isn’t looking.”