Something that has long been of interest to me are the words we use when discussing the visual arts. More specifically, the terminology used with regard to those limited length, traditionally theatrically experienced works known as movies … But also as films.
It seems to me that both words, while sharing a good deal of similarity in their usage, evoke different emotions and feelings. But is there – practically – a difference between a movie and a film? What is that difference? What things are shared between them and what sets them apart from one another, if anything?
Let’s discuss.
The Beginning
Starting with its inception, cinema has always consisted of a series of still images captured one after the next, replayed in real time to convey a sense of movement. While photography involving still images had been around for quite some time, the notion of moving images was rather unique and eye-catching. It is perhaps, then, unsurprising that these new inventions were given the name “movies.”
The term itself is quite simply an understandable derivation of the fact that the images in question moved. This descriptor stuck with the medium up until the ability to record live sound where in, for a brief period, the term “talkies” began to take hold. However, in the long run, that term fell by the wayside and the slang of “movies” persisted.
I say slang as, even from those early days, there was yet another term used to describe these moving images, captured in the medium of analog film. Unsurprisingly (particularly to anyone who has seen the title), this term was “films.” Much like movie, film was just a descriptive term to convey the fact that these images were in fact captured on film. While it’s true that still images were also captured on film, these new moving images were the ones that retained the moniker.
As time went on, both of these terms continued to be used fairly interchangeably by the general public. Depending on where you were in the country, and your age, you might well ask someone to go to the movies. Or to go see a film. Or to go check out the latest flick at the box office. But, in Hollywood, many of the organizations that grew up around the moving picture industry began using the word “film” in their titles. In fact, they officially referred to themselves as the “film industry.”
Movies vs Films
Over the decades, a slight discrepancy began to appear in what people meant when they used one of these two phrases. A film was typically thought of as a piece of high art created to express something important or meaningful. A movie, on the other hand, was seen more as a form of entertainment – less high minded than its counterpart and more concerned with amusing and distracting the viewer. In essence, films were considered more “serious” than movies.
A good initial example might be that of the Godzilla franchise. The first entry in that franchise, the aptly titled Gojira, was a story about a giant creature – created through the use of nuclear weapons – that wrought havoc on postwar Japan. As the Japanese film industry was barred by the Americans from making films directly addressing the war or the dropping of the atomic bombs, they used the titular creature as a metaphor. The burning city and the devastation wrought by its attack struck immediate chords in the Japanese people. With its strong visual style, high minded themes, and striking imagery, it’s no surprise that this original outing is considered a “film” – and a great one at that.
However, as the studio continued making more Godzilla stories over the course of the next few decades, much of this heavy metaphor and powerful messaging dissipated, giving way to spectacle and absurdity. As early on as the second outing, Godzilla Raids Again, the plot was reduced to watching two ancient creatures fight each other while simultaneously destroying a city. While very entertaining, as would be much of the following era (known as the Showa Era after the emperor of Japan at the time), none of these stories would ever be classified as “films.” Instead, they were considered “movies.” They existed simply to entertain and to tell what were – in essence – very simple stories that acted as a backdrop for watching the special effects on display.
In fact, I can think of no cleaner a dividing line between the traditional concept of a “movie” and a “film” than by watching the first two Godzilla entries back to back.
Hierarchy
It should be noted that the difference between movies and films, at least in the minds of those that tend to focus on such things, runs even deeper than the previously mentioned separation between high minded ideal and low brow entertainment. The other primary dividing factor is how those two goals are viewed by critics and certain institutions like the Academy.
As a general rule, these two groups tend to give a higher level of respect and appreciation towards films than is typically presented towards movies. There is this idea that, regardless of quality or execution, the very intention of making something with a higher aim than “mere enjoyment” is more deserving of praise. This is not to say that they would prefer a poorly made “film” over a well-made “movie,” but that if all other things were equal, a film would be more inherently valuable than a movie. At least in their eyes.
Not only can this line of thinking be found in discussion circles across the Internet and in review sections located in newspapers across the globe, but it’s also often seen in the actual Academy Awards, otherwise known as the Oscars. While this yearly showing is ostensibly to recognize and reward those audiovisual works that have done something outstanding in their field, it’s also unquestionably weighted towards “films” as opposed to “movies.” As an example, ask a member of the general public how many of the Best Picture nominees they’ve seen in a given year and you might not be surprised to find that that answer is closer to zero than it isn’t. That can obviously vary year to year, but on the whole, it remains true.
However, I find it hard to believe that somehow all of the best stories being put out are completely ignored by 98% of the general public. Don’t get me wrong, I never expect some sort of smaller, lesser-known film to do as well as the latest entry in the MCU, but I have a hard time believing that these sort of unseen gems are the only ones worthy of recognition. I say this because it is the rare occasion when a more mainstream Hollywood blockbuster – or “movie” – finds its way into the running for anything other than (perhaps) best visual effects or sound design (not that these aren’t worthy categories in their own right).
Equality
This sort of “looking down the nose” at the idea of a movie versus a film has never set well with me. I think that both absolutely have a place and that each can be very enjoyable, depending on your mood and the type of story you’re wanting. (Something that, itself, can change not only from day to day, but within a given day.)
In fact, as someone who has loved cinema since a young age, I can say that many of my favorite things are unequivocally “movies” and not “films.” This is nothing against films, as there are a great many that I love, but merely to say that those things that drew me to the medium in the beginning were often times those that were more concerned with telling an entertaining and enjoyable story than with any loftier ideas.
Let’s also be clear – while so far the discussion has made it seem as if there is an obvious line in the sand between these two things, nothing could be further from the truth. There’s absolutely no reason why a film can’t function effectively as a movie and vice versa. In fact, one of the most interesting examples is that of JAWS. While now widely considered one of the best “films” ever made, it’s worth noting that Spielberg initially and unequivocally viewed JAWS as a “movie,” even specifically saying that he wanted to make “a movie and not a film.”
How is it then that something crafted with the express intention of being merely an entertaining “movie” managed to become a respected “film?” Partially, I think it’s down to the inherent talent of the individuals involved. From the director to the cast, the tireless crew to the wonderful special effects department – JAWS was full of the best that Hollywood had to offer. That said, I don’t think this is the only reason – after all, there have been too many well-made “movies” that have never gained the same level of respect.
No, the other reason that I think that this particular story has managed to cross the boundary so effectively is that art is entirely subjective. Not just in the level of quality, but in perception of it. Those individuals looking for a good “movie” certainly found that in the form of JAWS, but so too did those who were looking for a “film” about man vs nature. This is because the dividing line between a film and a movie is nothing more than the interpretation of the viewer.
My Take
While I don’t typically use an entire section to just give my own straight opinion – divorced from any sort of attempt at objective reality – in this case, I felt compelled to do so. That said, I will attempt to keep this section rather brief.
In essence, I’ve long felt that while I would certainly classify myself as a filmmaker – and always endeavor to keep the stories I tell grounded in some sort of truth and reality (be that from the situation or the characters or the emotions expressed thereby) –, I’ve never had the intention of making a “film.” Rather, I’ve always been much more interested in making “movies” for people to enjoy. By their very definition, “movies” are more concerned with engaging and enthralling an audience than with trying to express some sort of larger universal truth or with teaching a heavy handed lesson.
It’s not that these things can’t still be present in a movie (most great films do, in fact, have them), but just that they are all secondary to telling a story that captures the viewer. While a “film” can often be seen as an artist trying to express something about themselves, a “movie” always seemed to me to be much more focused on the audience. On their experience. As such, making a “movie” has always seemed a less inherently selfish endeavor. Again, this is not to say that a movie can’t contain the soul and fingerprint of its creator – because it certainly will – but that it’s always a secondary concern when compared to the viewer’s enjoyment.
I should also be clear in noting that this does not mean that every “movie” must be uplifting or have a happy ending. Movies are just as free as films to be dark, light, funny, horrific, dramatic and any other descriptor. They are, in truth, not limited in any way when compared to a film – outside of the high minded aspirations of the creator. In essence, to me: movies feel less egotistical.
Perhaps that is an incorrect view, and I’m sure many would argue against it, but that is my own personal perspective on the matter. It’s exactly why I will always endeavor to make “movies,” first and foremost. If – in doing so – they also end up being “films,” I certainly wouldn’t be upset.
Conclusion
So, at the end of the day, I can’t help but feel that the only real dividing line between movies and films is that of elitism. Of those individuals or organizations who feel that attempting to entertain an audience with a good story, well told is somehow less inherently valuable than attempting to hit on a grander truth. Or of those who would argue that these two goals cannot overlap and intertwine. That something must be one or the other.
Because, the dirty truth that they would never want to admit is that, from an audience’s perspective, there really is no difference between a movie and a film. While certain expressions of the medium, like the original Gojira, certainly contain a more profound message, it also entertains us. As do it’s increasingly ridiculous sequels. And while they may not contain messages of equal weight, each contain their own miniature lessons and truths. Each touch another small facet of the human experience – be that our fascination by destruction or our love of the absurd.
No, the true difference between a film and a movie exists only in the mind of the creator and their intentions with the work. (And even that, given the example of Spielberg and JAWS, means very little.) All else is the observer attempting to attach external meaning to a work of art. As this is, in fact, the purpose of art, I’m not necessarily deriding it as much as I’m criticizing the hierarchy of respect given between these two arbitrary categories that both describe the wondrous and multifaceted medium of human expression simply known as:
Well, that’s for you to decide.
A rose by any other name, as they say.