Hyperspace Hoopla Could Save Star Wars

I've begun to think that nostalgia is a coping mechanism. Existence is pain. Being alive is often just endless anguish, as concerns over how to pay rent, mental health issues, and other problems dominate our brains. Rarely is there a passage in life devoid of turmoil. Childhood angst eventually gives way to adulthood ennui. However, we can control the past in our brains. We can zero in on a song, a movie, a TV Show, anything that brought us happy feelings and declare it emblematic of "happier" bygone days. When you're existing in the tumultuous present, it's impossible to contort it into something inherently happy. 

Memories, though, can be shaped and altered. We can convince ourselves that 80s music, for instance, was the "greatest" and emblematic of that era being superior. The past is so overwhelming and scary that clinging to nostalgia is often a way of making it bearable. 

The psychology behind this is understandable even if the byproducts of that process are immensely toxic. The 80s, for instance, may have delivered a few songs you connect to fond High School memories. It was also an era housing the AIDS genocide of queer people or President Ronald Reagan normalizing anti-Black rhetoric. We have to confront the messy pain of existence, the small joys that make the present worth living, and the bursts of happiness driving a desire to create a better tomorrow. Becoming calcified in a funhouse mirror vision of yesterday won't make the present and future better. 

This is all a very heavy way of saying: I swear to God, any positive feelings I express here towards Hyperspace Hoopla are not just because "it existed in 2013, therefore it's better than 2026 art." Just like Yoda actually being a wise and powerful Jedi when Luke encounters the "kooky" hermit on Dagobah, there's more going on here than just pining for abandoned Disney World attractions.

What The Kriff is Hyperspace Hoopla?

Hyperspace Hoopla was established in 2008 as part of Star Wars Weekends, an annual event that Disney's Hollywood Studios hosted in Florida's Walt Disney World theme park. This weekend, special walkaround characters, guests, parades, and other events would take place, all themed to that galaxy far, far away. It took over a decade of Star Wars Weekends before Hyperspace Hoopla was created. However, these performances are now some of the most enduringly memorable of this defunct Disney World staple.

Hyperspace Hoopla was a song and dance show typically involving hosts Snig and Oopla guiding audiences through a barrage of familiar Star Wars characters dancing to peppy pop tunes. The 2011 version of Hyperspace Hoopla, for instance, saw Emperor Palpatine showing up to explain that, for Dark Side users, the word "yo" "gives us street cred", Darth Maul dancing to AC/DC's "Back in Black," Jango and Boba Fett sharing the stage together, an Ewok rocking Slash's hair, Darth Vader getting funky to Metallica' "Enter Sandman," and even Oopla quoting Palpatine's "you smell like feet wrapped in burn leathery bacon" quip from Robot Chicken. It's a cross between a fever dream, a Ready Player One-style menagerie of pop culture references, and somewhat par for the course for theme park entertainment.

The entire Hyperspace Hoopla conceit was centered around the "novelty" of watching Star Wars characters singing and dancing along to familiar pop tunes. Once Disney bought Star Wars and planned to make the property inescapable at its theme parks (why confine it just to one weekend?), Star Wars Weekends were dead in the water. Hyperspace Hoopla, which did its final show in 2013 (just months after Disney bought Lucasfilm), was no longer a priority for the Mouse House. Lucasfilm's new owners were emphasizing "brand integrity" above all else. It was time to take Star Wars seriously again, a proposition that also ensured the death of Seth Green's Star Wars: Detours show. In trying to re-establish this universe as one a new generation of kids could get invested in, sillier takes on Star Wars in Detours and Hyperspace Hoopla were jettisoned. Considering Star Wars was synonymous with endless mocking "I don't like sand" memes in the early 2000s, that might not have been the worst idea in the world.

Cut to 2026, though, and everyone takes Star Wars too damn seriously. Disney and Lucasfilm treat the live-action reappearances of random side characters from The Clone Wars as reverently as possible. There's a constant emphasis on "we're doing this for the fans" or slow-motion behind-the-scenes footage set to actors wistfully talking about how much Rotta the Hutt means to them. Meanwhile, Star Wars fandom has somehow gotten even more toxic. Many corners of this fandom have ended up embodying the worst possible versions of nostalgia as they cling to a perception that Disney warped a franchise full of toyetic characters into something "impure." Trying anything new in Star Wars will immediately incur the internet's ire.

Disney no longer has a problem with people not viewing Star Wars seriously. They have the opposite problem: it's all too buttoned-up and glum. Trying anything new is sacrilegious. Meanwhile, characters who originated in Cartoon Network/Disney XD programming are now treated with off-putting veneration. No wonder younger people would rather jump into the more appealing, colorful worlds of various anime programs like One Piece.

Hyperspace Hoopla Could Bring Swinging Fun To All Star Wars Era

Maybe the answer to countering that perception lies in Hyperspace Hoopla. A little over a decade since The Force Awakens debuted, Disney can finally let its hair down when it comes to Star Wars. It's time for something ridiculous that reminds people Star Wars is a franchise aimed at children, that's housed Bea Arthur singing to Mos Eisley Cantina patrons or Wilford Brimley chatting with Ewoks. Not everything has to be all serious all the time. Letting the Star Wars characters dance to Britney Spears, Kendrick Lamar, or Charli XCX could be an over-the-top reminder of that reality. 

Plus, in the 12 years since Hyperspace Hoopla went off to that great Bantha field in the sky, the Star Wars saga has introduced a few new characters these shows could utilize. In her excellent video breaking down the faults of the Forces of Destiny toyline/short films, Jenny Nicholson lamented that, in the interest of maintaining "contuinity," none of the women highlighted in these dolls/shorts could interact. Jyn Erso and Ahsoka Tano, for example, could never rub shoulders with Leia. That problem wouldn't be an issue with Hyperspace Hoopla, which has to throw continuity to the wind so that Jango Fett can shake ass to "WAP".

It could be fun to see all kinds of new Disney-era Star Wars characters, and old favorites, rub shoulders and do something silly together. The Acolyte's Osha and Mae could have a fun dance number with Rey and Fennec Shand to 100 gecs "Dumbest Girl Alive." Perhaps it's time for Darth Maul, Orson Krennic, and Syril Karn to engage in some homoerotic dancing to Lil Nax X's "Industry Baby." Anyone got any great tunes that could unite Wat Tambor, Max Rebo, and Constable Zuvio?  Porgs! My beloved Porgs also must be there! The possibilities are endless. Emphasizing all these characters wouldn't just be fun in making sure the new Hyperspace Hoopla offered sights beyond what its original incarnation delivered.

This could also help unite Star Wars fans, as fans of all corners of the franchise (from the Prequel Trilogy to the Filoni-era shows to the Sequel Trilogy) gather to see their favorite characters engage in outsized song-and-dance routines. Communal art experiences are vital for bringing people from all walks of life together. So much Star Wars media (like The Rise of Skywalker) seems poised to cater towards just toxic corners of this fandom through the isolating realm of streaming television. Hyperspace Hoopla bringing a wide range of Star Wars fans together and homaging all eras of the franchise, though, could be a balm for that problem. "This will begin to make things right," to quote the opening line of The Force Awakens.

Granted, there could be some major problems ingrained into reviving Hyperspace Hoopla. For one thing, 2020s pop music has some deeply terrible artists that I don't want to see come anywhere near Star Wars. Please, do load up the Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Sabrina Carpenter, SZA, Haim, Chappell Roan, Ethel Caine, Bad Bunny, and various K-Pop legends in terms of modern chart-toppers. However, just because they're popular on the Billboard charts or TikTok trends doesn't grant them automatic access to Hyperspace Hoopla. Morgan Wallen, Tate McRae, Benson Boone, Drake, Ella Langley, Jelly Roll, get that shit out of here. This is a stupid show at Disney World, but it shouldn't be a platform for toxic personalities. 

Hyperspace Hoopla also shouldn't just be a place to shill for or promote new Disney+ Star Wars materials. This should be a place where the Unidentified Hologram Circus from the Star Wars Holiday Special and Bix from Andor live in harmony. This should be a grab-bag of characters from all eras of Star Wars combine to give people song-and-dance routines nobody asked for (complimentary). It shouldn't be just a place where Mando waxes poetic on how cool the new heroes of Ahsoka season two are. Yes, this is a Disney theme park show, meaning promotional impulses are ingrained into the production's Midichlorians, er, bloodstream. However, that doesn't mean a new Hyperspace Hoopla incarnation couldn't at least try to avoid such impulses.

Against All Odds, Hyperspace Hoopla Could Be...A New Hope

I never saw Hyperspace Hoopla in person. My only exposure to it is through videos of these performances that people have uploaded to YouTube. These time capsules provide a striking reminder of how much cynicism and corporate exploitation has permeated the Star Wars brand since the very Luke Skywalker Kenner toy hit store shelves. Obvious problems abound in any one of these performances, right down to the really grating jokes to the obvious song choices. To be quite honest, the show's treatment of women characters is also...not great. Leia dances around in her slave bikini outfit (a garb she was forced to wear at the hands of a slimy sexual predator) while Padme's de facto outfit is her mid-riff-baring Attack of the Clones Geonosis colosseum attire. Skimpiness does not equal "not feminist" or "bad women representation," obviously. 

Those costumes being the only real options for lady Star Wars characters in this show, while also having them dance to Outkast singing "Shake it! Shake it!" in "Hey Ya" just comes off as weird. Not to mention unimaginative! Why can't these gals from a galaxy far, far away do something more? The default role for women in dance numbers is to be subservient to men and blow kisses at male performers. Let's get some more specific choreography out here and distinctive tunes for Leia and Ahsoka Tano to dance to.

Still, even with all these faults bouncing around the proceedings, Hyperspace Hoopla "makes no damn sense...compels me, though", to quote a wise Benoit Blanc. Maybe it's the inherent surrealness of seeing C-3PO lead a "Harlem Shake" performance. Perhaps it's just the absence of similarly goofy Star Wars material at the theme parks or wider Disney machine. A part of this Hyperspace Hoopla affection must stem from nostalgia, always forcing us to look through the past with rose-colored glasses. Yesteryear's torment will suffocate us if we don't make it bearable. 

Above all else, deploying Star Wars characters for pop music cringiness and displays of talented live dancing sure seems like a welcome respite to this franchise's current state. Rigid homages to Filoni-spearheaded cartoons? Get that out of here. Let's get back to having fun with these characters, especially with the vast expansion of canonical characters the Disney Star Wars era has delivered. A new and improved version of Hyperspace Hoopla that takes more risks on music choices (bring on the 100 gecs and Death Grips!) and demonstrates more imagination with how women are portrayed could be a riot. 

In its ideal form, Hyperspace Hoopla could remind Star Wars geeks everywhere that this saga is supposed to be fun. This is all silly nonsense. "The brand integrity days are over," as Florence+The Machine might say. Now it's time for the days of Sebulba and General Grievous twerking to "Thot Shit." Having such hopes for a revamped vision of Hyperspace Hoopla isn't about clinging to the past. It's about improving on the past and creating something new that maybe help Star Wars stave off some of its current woes.

15 Years Ago, The Muppets Began Delivering the Best Parody Trailers Ever

A The Muppets scene involving Rowlf, the best Muppet. I love his ears when they flop around!!

We all know how typical American movie trailers operate. A terrific early 2010s YouTube video played on this familiarity through memorably breaking down the specifics of blockbuster movie trailers. Such staples have remained shockingly consistent in the years since this video's debut. Just watch the Masters of the Universe or Supergirl trailers and tell me this YouTube video isn't still relevant.

This rigid formulaic approach to movie trailers makes it such a welcome treat when movie marketers switch things up by delivering trailers that totally upend expectations. Just in the last two years, the "Boots" 28 Years Later teaser, that initial Weapons teaser, or that memorably meta Love That Remains trailer have proven you can make a modern movie trailer look like anything. Unfortunately, with corporate consolidation, increased creative timidity, and so many other problems plaguing the American film industry, these trailers are few and far between. Great trailers are an artfrom unto themselves. You wouldn't know that, though, if you just watched the trailers inspiring that early 2010s YouTube parody video.

In 2011, though, a Disney legacy sequel, of all things, delivered one of the most creative, entertaining, and distinctive series of trailers for any modern American movie. On this day, 15 years ago, the very first of this film's various parody trailers began screening exclusivley in theaters with Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Gonzo, and all their Muppety friends hadn't been seen in movie theaters for over a decade. The various parody trailers heralding the arrival of The Muppets, though, signaled their return in style. Hollywood hasn't really tried mimicking these parody trailers in the last 15 years, which just makes these marketing materials for The Muppets extra special.

That Very First Muppets Teaser

It's May 20, 2011. You're seated for Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. The trailers are winding down with the titles Disney is choosing to promote on this blockbuster. The first of these trailers is... a Jason Segel/Amy Adams romantic-comedy? Everything about this teaser, from the character's dialogue to the trailer narrator to even the sound effects, says this is a production cut from the same mold as fellow 2011 rom-com's Friends With Benefits, and Something Borrowed. The inspired use of "You Only Get What You Give" really solidifies that audiences must be witnessing a glimpse at the latest Robert Luketic directorial effort.

Then the narrator begins announcing the cast. "Jason Segel." "Amy Adams." "Kermit...the Frog." After also announcing Miss Piggy's presence, Segel grinds the teaser to a halt to ask, "are there Muppets in this movie?" This parody trailer (titled Green With Envy online) then culminates in a montage emphasizing Muppety montage and unveiling the film's title. It's an incredibly fun trailer showing remarkable attention to detail in replicating rom-com trailers. Oh, how fun it must've been to be in a crowded auditorium of people, most totally unaware a new Muppet feature was on the horizon, gradually realizing what this teaser actually was.

Even better, the Green With Envy teaser's rom-com parody carried on the Muppet tradition of zany pop culture pastiches. Never forget Muppet Show staples like Pigs in Space or Veterinarian's Hospital that spoofed Star Trek and daytime soap operas, respectively. One of my favorite supporting Muppet Show players, Uncle Deadly, was introduced as The Phantom of the Muppet Show, an obvious Phantom of the Opera nod. The Rowlf-hosted special Dog City, meanwhile, was heavily indebted to noir films. The Muppets have always lampooned pre-existing art, but not at all in a stupid "look! thing you recognize!" fashion like Aaron Seltzer and Jason Freidberg.

Instead, they build upon pre-existing pop culture staples and archetypes to create gags that work for everyone, regardless of their pop culture knowledge. The Green With Envy teaser, works as a funny short where lovey-dovey material dovetails into Muppet madness even if you're too young to have ever seen a rom-com trailer. With just this first parody trailer, The Muppets established creativity and wit that lived up to the legacy of these characters. Better yet, though, the parody trailers weren't over. Throughout summer 2011, Disney kept dropping further parody trailers skewering hot 2011 titles. Most memorably, the iconic Girl With the Dragon Tattoo teaser spawned a hysterical Muppets parody. This trailer, known as Pig With the Froggy Tattoo, was inspired in its take on the original teaser's music. To boot, Froggy Tattoo delivered with fun gags (like pointing out the trailer's editor hiding as an extra in a large dance scene) that ensured you could laugh with this trailer even if you didn't know Lisbeth Salander from Katniss Everdeen.

Why Didn't Hollywood Mimic This Marketing Approach?

The Muppets marketing team wasn't just doing these parody trailers out of a desire to flip the script on standard American movie marketing techniques. This and other Muppets marketing elements, like the Muppets Fan-A-Thon videos, were intended to exploit the then-booming Facebook and YouTube viral video space. In an age where "Chocolate Rain" was becoming more popular than an average movie trailer, Disney's marketing team opted to go in a new direction. The hope was that people would share these videos all across the biggest social media platforms and get some extra hype going for Disney's big Thanksgiving 2011 release. Plus, if Kermit and pals were seen as "old", what better way to make them relevant than with Facebook-ready viral videos?

Whatever the impetus behind these parody trailers, they were delightful and an incredibly unique creation in the 2011 cinematic landscape. Unfortunately, they've remained a frustrating anomaly in the years since. The Muppets didn't inspire a slew of further motion pictures to take risks with creative trailers nad marketing materials. Even its own sequel, Muppets Most Wanted, only did parodies with TV spots lampooning tweets and "For Your Consideration" ads. Otherwise, the Most Wanted trailers were standard in structure and content. Other motion pictures, meanwhile, eschewed further norm-shattering promotional tactics.

Part of that was because The Muppets directly preceded the "nerd blockbuster" wave. When trailers dropped for new Marvel, DC, or Star Wars projects, studio executives assumed that fans wanted to see actual footage from the proper movie filtered through a reverent tone. The Comic-Con crowd would tar and feather Kevin Feige if he delivered a Captain America: Civil War trailer that was, say, just a parody of the Big Short trailer. Thus, behind-the-scenes featurettes where people on-set ran in slow-motion and talked about how "this one's for the fans" were in. Wackier and more unorthodox trailers were out. 

The decline of the big screen comedy (the perfect genre for these kinds of marketing tactics) also ensured that those Muppets parody trailers from 2011 didn't spawn a bunch of imitators. The Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me teaser that initially seemed to tee up the return of Darth Vader before revealing Dr. Evil, for instance, could only have worked for a silly comedy. Ditto the Dirty Rotten Scoundrels teaser or those bizarre live-action Bee Movie teasers. Those Muppets trailers were following in the footsteps of countless creative comedy movie trailers that used the innate silliness of this genre to try something different in the "coming attractions" section. When studios began backing away from big-screen comedies, such trailers became basically non-existent.

Even if they didn't spawn further marketing risk-taking in the 2010s, The Muppets still delivered some gloriously fun teaser trailers. Speaking as a Muppet fan, the effort and creativity going into these materials remains enduringly moving because they show people actually caring about Kermit and the gang. For much of the 2000s, the Muppets were stuck in a bleak era. Characters like Rowlf and Gonzo were now only good for hawking Pizza Hut or headlining abysmal TV movies like The Muppets' Wizard of Oz. Characters once epitomizing inventive and chaotic comedy were now Madison Avenue shills. At least in the 50s, when Jim Henson's Wilkins and Wontkins were coffee spokespeople (see below), there was plenty of hysterical puppet murder to make the commercials go down smoothly. Now, the Muppets were just hollow vessels for whatever brand paid to use them.

These Muppets teaser trailers, though, indicated that artists hadn't given up on giving these characters genuinely witty material to inhabit. They were good for more than just tired Tin-Man nipple jokes or Denny's commercials. They could make people laugh once more and (provided you were an unsuspecting moviegoer in an opening night On Stranger Tides screening) even surprise them. After so many years of creative stasis, hope had risen once more for the Muppets. What a terrific precursor to the excellent 2011 movie that reminded us all "Life's a Happy Song" while reaffirming the entertainment and value of these characters. Happy 15th anniversary to the start of these parody trailers, which heralded a new era of Muppety joys.

I Can't Stop Thinking About This One Amazing Blue Heron Scene (SPOILERS)

 MASSIVE SPOILERS AHEAD FOR BLUE HERON

Surrendering is a hard thing for people to do. I genuinely think that's the biggest barrier between many people and experiencing unorthodox art. We're conditioned to always treat the world with suspicion. Anything odd is to be feared and deemed potentially dangerous. Thus, when folks are watching films and things take a turn for the formally unexpected, there can be an impulse to throw one's hands up and submit to cynicism. "Why are they singing?" "Why is everything so weird?" "Why are the characters doing that? That isn't logical!" These are the phrases one can utilize when confronted with something new or initially inexplicable. I swear, I'm not saying any of this from a high horse, I've been guilty of that in the past, too. 

However, art that dares to upend expectations and do something unexpected should be treasured, not react with aloofness. The sensation of not knowing what's going on or why things are happening can be scary. But relinquish yourself to the art. Do not react to the unprecedented with cynicism, but rather curiosity.  Surrender to your lack of control or knowledge. You'll discover great art in the process, including Blue Heron.

In this miracle movie from writer/director Sophy Ramvari, Sasha (Amy Zimmer as an adult, Eylul Given as a child) is constantly looking for answers or clarity on her tormented older brother Jeremy (Edik Beddoes). Eventually, her quest leads her to take a ferry and then drive to her childhood home (where Blue Heron's first half took place). Utterly riveted in my Angelika Dallas seat, I was convinced I knew what was happening next. Sasha was about to pull a "The House That Built Me" and return to her adolescent domicile. She'd wander around the space, probably inhabited by a new family, and see if any answers come to her while wandering the familiar halls.

Instead, Sasha gets to her childhood home's door, rings the front doorbell...and is greeted by her Father (Ádám Tompa) as he looked in the sequences set in Sasha's childhood. Adult Sasha introduces herself as a social worker and asks if she can come in. In an unexpected turn, Romvari is recreating an earlier Blue Heron scene where a social worker talked with Sasha's family, but now grown-up Sasha is playing this outside visitor. It took me a moment to realize what was going on and what a glorious experience that was. Romvari doesn't use ham-fisted narration or expository dialogue to clarify what's happening. That would disrupt the realism of the characters. Instead, Blue Heron maintains its understated dialogue approach and lets audiences come to epiphanies over what's going on in their own time.

From here, Sasha's quiet exploration of yesteryear is magnificently realized. In one extended single-take, Sasha (only seen via her hands) sees and gently holds Miss Mousey, her favorite childhood stuffed animal. Then, grown-up Sasha comes into the room where her adolescent self is watching TV with her three siblings (including Jeremy). The two Sashas sit together for a moment before the older member of the duo whispers something into the child's ear. Much like Sasha's expression as she holds Miss Mousey again, what's whispered here is kept away from the audience. That ambiguity works on multiple levels, including mirroring how concrete answers are often elusive when navigating our memories of the past.

After that, the scene concludes with Father and Mother (Iringó Réti) sitting down to talk with Sasha/the social worker about Jeremy and their struggles as parents. Finally, in this segment, Sasha can converse with her parents, a moment she could only hear through a closed door as a child. As the sequence ends, the lines between the past and present blur. At the end of this exchange between parents and social worker, adult Sasha begins relaying to her parents what will happen in the future. They will try to help Jeremy, but "you will lose yourselves." Shortly after, the camera cuts to Sasha watching this conversation from afar, with recurring cuts between young and old Sasha, depending on the shots. 

This fateful day, when a social worker first firmly urged Jeremy to live in another home, is so rooted in Sasha's mind that it feels like it's happening right now. The past is the present when it comes to trauma.

This reality is vividly and distinctively rendered through this mesmerizing sequence that collides two points in time. The way such tremendously tear-inducing material is executed through the quietest material (like a grown woman softly picking up a familiar stuffed animal) is staggering. Best of all, this unforgettable Blue Heron scene didn't hold my hand. Instead, it capsized my expectations and gave me imagery I could never have dreamed of. Huzzah for movies that show faith in audiences and exhibit such potent filmmaking. This is the sort of artistry that makes Blue Heron such a towering and achingly powerful work.

What Are The Five Biggest Summers Ever At The Domestic Box Office?

If these musically inclined teenagers are to be believed, it is indeed "summertime"

Blake Shelton's a terrible musician. 

Christ, he's just awful. 

If you hate your ears and want to eradicate your hearing, may I suggest you pop in "Boys 'Round Here" and listen to his rapping. By the third time he utters "chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit", you'll want to claw your own eyes out even though music isn't a visual medium. However, credit where credit is due, this stain on music did kick off his career with a genuinely good tune. His first single, "Austin," is a great little narrative song that spins a moving web of a woman calling up her ex-lover's answering machine, which tells callers, "P.S. if this is Austin/I still love you." 

Shelton's modern works have been hillbily kafabe aimed at the eardrums of upper-class people. "Austin" demonstrates a level of emotional vulnerability, not to mention narratively satisfying lyrics, that his subsequent songs haven't come close to matching. It's always hard to recapture the magic of your greatest exploits. 

Just ask the summer box office. While the weaker summer box office hauls of the 2020s haven't been as bad as Shelton's "Hell Right" or "Honey Bee," they've also struggled to live up to the biggest summer box office grosses in history. These particular summers are the "Austin's" that seasons like summer 2026 are always trying to emulate. But what are these summer domestic box office hauls (which consist of money made from May 1 to Labor Day in a given year) that reign supreme? What have been the biggest summers in history at the domestic box office? Journey with me and let's explore the five biggest summer moviegoing seasons at the domestic box office. Who knows, maybe some further country music commentary will even creep its way into the proceedings.

5. 2011 ($4.402 billion)

2011 was a rough year for the domestic box office. The first few months of the year were especially dire, as that year's January and February lacked the early breakout hits that lifted those same months in 2009 and 2010. Gone were Taken, Valentine's Day, and The Book of Eli, in their place were The Roommate, The Rite, and Hall Pass. Reuters would later dub 2011 "a deadly year" in terms of its box office performance, which makes it all the more surprising to remember that summer 2011 was the fifth biggest summer ever at the box office. 

You can chalk that feat up to Hollywood just cramming the season full of weekly massive tentpoles. No wonder Jon Favreau (director of that summer's Cowboys & Aliens) called this scheduling "a bloodbath", as titles like Transformers: Dark of the Moon, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, and Captain America: The First Avenger all opened within a single four-week span. To boot, August, normally a month Hollywood usually abandons, was hopping thanks to hits like Rise of the Planet of the Apes and The Help. It's a bit surprising people found enough time between endless re-listens of "Dirt Road Anthem," "Take a Back Road," and "Old Alabama" to check out so many movies in theaters that summer. However, that's just what happened with summer 2011's jam-packed slate. If you want an illustration of how more major theatrical releases always help the marketplace, just look at how much better summer 2011 performed compared to the year's first three, utterly empty few months.

4. 2018 ($4.412 billion)

A year before Florida Georgia Line's penultimate album unfurled onto store shelves, the summer 2018 box office was thriving. Avengers: Infinity War technically began its historic run a week before summer 2018 began, which means that this summer's proper victor was Incredibles 2 (which temporarily became the biggest animated movie ever domestically). New Jurassic World, Deadpool, Mission: Impossible, and Hotel Transylvania adventures also littered the season and brought in plenty of moolah. This was yet another season demonstrating that a properly lucrative summer box office landscape cannot thrive on May and June blockbusters alone. August 2018 brought plenty of major moneymakers to the table, including Crazy Rich Asians, The Meg, and even Christopher Robin.

Here's an eerie portrait of how much Disney was now dominating the cinematic landscape circa. 2018: ten years earlier, in summer 2008, the Mouse House only released two of the season's 12 biggest movies. A decade later, that number had doubled to four and one other film amongst summer 2018's top 12 (Deadpool 2) came from a studio Disney was in the process of buying. That corporate domination has now ballooned to also include Paramount potentially gobbling up Warner Bros. and beloved studios like 20th Century Fox being shells of their former selves. Back in summer 2018, A.K.A. the summer of Gotti, the box office vibes were as upbeat as the tone in the George Jones song "Finally Friday." "Let the good times roll," as Jones once crooned, presumably before he sat down to watch Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again.

3. 2015 ($4.476 billion)

Dinosaurs ruled the planet millions of years ago. For the summer of 2015, though, these prehistoric beasties were also on top once more. Jurassic World was by far the biggest movie of the summer with $647.37 million. Already, one can see Hollywood's consolidation and reliance on fewer, bigger titles taking place this season. Summer 2015 only produced 12 movies that grossed $100+ million domestically, compared to 15 in 2009 and a whopping 17 in 2008. The top films were the ones picking up a lot of the slack, which included four mega-titles making $300+ million each domestically. Rather than unleashing many movies making $100-120 million each, Hollywood was pinning more and more of its hopes on titles cracking $200+ million a piece.

As priorities shifted, though, the raw summertime grosses remained hearty. Non-sequels even made up five of this summer's 12 biggest movies, including Inside Out and Straight Outta Compton. This massive summer proved integral to making 2015 the first year in history to hit $11+ billion at the annual domestic box office. Why, the movies were almost as popular this summer as Craig Morgan's "Redneck Yacht Club." I've never thought about it before, but what a class-based nightmare that social gathering would be. Lots of white people with strong opinions on people of color and gays, all insisting they're simple country folk while rocking enough money to own a yacht. Just throw me into the jaws of the Indominus Rex right now. Anyway, moving all of our brains over to more cheerful waters, summer 2015, even with a more limited slate of new movies, still managed to hit some major financial highs. 

At the time, 2015 even delivered the second biggest summer box office haul ever, though it would soon relinquish that title to...

2. 2016 ($4.491 billion)

Sometime in the late 1960s, Merle Haggard put pen to paper (or fingertips to keyboard) and translated his own experiences in prison into the song "Mama Tried." A tune full of lamenting, it was infused with the kind of regret Hollywood was NOT feeling as summer 2016 was winding down.  Unfortunately, this was a summer that seemed to suggest the studios' shifting towards only tentpole sequels all the time could produce incredibly lucrative results. Captain America: Civil War and Suicide Squad were the two biggest live-action movies of the summer, and each grossed $300+ million domestically. Finding Dory was the season's champ and finally dethroned Shrek 2 after 12 years as the biggest animated movie ever in North America with its $486 million domestic cume. The Secret Life of Pets was the third biggest title of the season with $368.6 milion. 

In a startling reflection of how the divie between the "haves" and "have nots" was growing, Jason Bourne rounded out the top five that summer with "only" $162.43 million. Just six years earlier, in summer 2010, the fifth biggest movie of the summer (Despicable Me) cracked $250+ million domestically. Hollywood executives thought relying on fewer and fewer reliable moneymakers was a dream come true...but what happens when those "moneymaker" franchises start producing bombs like The Marvels and The Flash? That and the summer's deluge of bloated box office bombs producing more massive money-losers than a typical summer season (howdy Independence Day: Resurgence, Alice Through the Looking Glass, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows, Ben-Hur, and The BFG) should've given the studios some perspective that a $180+ million budget isn't enough to produce an automatic hit.

Still, experiencing the second biggest summer ever domestically was the kind of event that clouded judgment. The season's massive box office haul, which was also aided by original comedy hits like Central Intelligence and Bad Moms, signaled a victory of sorts for Hollywood's new cinema priorities. It also suggested that the big screen still held plenty of appeal even as Netflix was beginning to ramp up its original television offerings (don't forget, Stranger Things premiered this summer). No wonder movie theater owners and studio executives weren't channeling the mood of Merle Haggard writing "Mama Tried."

1. 2013 ($4.754 billion)

I don't think the world will ever see a summer moviegoing season as big as summer 2013. For one thing, this season's $4.754 billion haul is just so strikingly ahead of all other seasons (it's $263 million higher than summer 2016, the second biggest summer ever in raw dollars). 2019, the last "normal" before COVID wrecked shop, made $430 million less than this season*. It's just going to be hard to recreate the circumstances that made summer 2013 so immensely powerful, including the scheduling that delivered one mega-hit after another on a weekly basis. If Jon Favreau thought summer 2011 was packed, hoo boy, summer 2013 was a whirlwind. Iron Man 3, The Great Gatsby, Star Trek Into Darkness, The Hangover: Part III, and Fast & Furious 6 alone all dropped within the first four weeks of May 2013. That was the summer kick-off!

Iron Man 3 (the only movie of the summer to make $400+ million domestically) was easily the season's victor, but the wealth was surprisingly spread out all across this entire moviegoing landscape. A whopping 19 summer 2013 movies cracked $100+ million domestically, nine of which were either completely original works or non-sequels based on source material that had never been adapted into movies before. Sure, new Iron Man, Superman, and Despicable Me movies reigned supreme this season. However, The Heat and The Conjuring outgrossing The Lone Ranger and The Smurfs 2 made it clear that ideas that resonate with viewers are more important than familiar brand names and excessive scope.

The wide array of projects and genres available on the big screen fueled summer 2013 to massive historic box office heights. Given that the major studios are hesitant to release movies like This Is The End or The Heat these days, it's doubtful summer 2013's historic box office haul can ever be replicated. Making $4.7 billion in a single summer happens when tons of new movies are in play, not just Iron Man 3 and Star Trek Into Darkness. Even Blue Sky's Epic (whose $107.45 million 2013 gross would be $152.31 million in 2026 dollars) is the kind of box office performer the marketplace needs more of now (it'd be a shame if Epic's animation studio got destroyed by a major conglomerate).

I've sometimes said 2014 was the final year for a certain era of Hollywood (The Hollywood Reporter recently said something similar, albeit in relation to TV ratings). Last year without Netflix making and distributing original movies. The final year (until the end of the decade) without an MCU movie grossing $800+ million worldwide. The final year without a new annual Star Wars movie until 2020. Lots of massive changes were on the horizon for Hollywood that would really arrive in 2015. Summer 2013, then, was, in hindsight, a bit of a "one last big bash" before the status quo's upending. Comedies were still massive. Original films made up nearly half of summer 2013's $100+ million grossers. Major new releases dropped nearly every week. Those elements would quickly become scarcer, but in summer 2013, they felt like an inherent part of America's cinematic tapestry.

No wonder summer 2013, the summer box office's equivalent to "Austin," was so massive in raw box office numbers that it doesn't feel like any subsequent summer moviegoing season will ever dethrone it. Summer 2026 is off to a rollicking start thanks to The Devil Wears Prada 2 and Michael, but even this season will need a miracle to come anywhere close to $4.7 billion. It's hard to top your highest of highs. Just ask Blake Shelton. Hey, at least none of the subsequent summer box office hauls have been as embarrassing as "Boys 'Round Here."

* = If Avengers: Endgame had stuck to its original May 3, 2019 release date and grossed the $474 million it made in April 2019 in summer 2019 instead, that alone would've been enough to make summer 2019 the biggest summer ever.

If I Go Will They Miss Me Is A Sweeping Yet Intimate Achievement

Typically, American movies define something as "epic" if it's physically towering in scale. A gigantic robot heading for a city, for instance. A musical number involving hundreds of dancing extras. An action sequence where on person beats up so many hired goons. In real life, though, the most momentous things are incredibly intimate. A small trinket reminding you of a loved one. A scent that suddenly takes you back to being eight years old in your parents' living room. A song that everyone knows, yet it sounds like it was written just for you. If I Go Will They Miss Me, Walter Thompson-Hernández's incredible feature-length directorial debut, is an ode to those tiny, impactful moments of existence. Such moments are realized through immense visual and sonic showmanship. Emotional significance can materialize anywhere. If I Go Will They Miss Me's sumptuous filmmaking vividly reflects that.

In Watts, Los Angeles, there lives Lil Ant (Bodhi Dell) and his family, mother Lotzita (Danielle Brooks), sister Jenn (Bre-Z), and his father Big Ant (J. Alphonse Nicholson), who just got out of prison. Lil Ant is an artistically inclined youngster who loves drawing, creating crafts, and viewing his parents as figures from Greek mythology. Unfortunately, he also struggles with getting any meaningful connection with his father. Big Ant, who spends much of his days working on his father's ranch and sneaking away to a mistress, just can't get invested in his firstborn son. This complicated family life is filtered through recurring doses of magical realism, including a barrage of young people in white shirts that only Lil and Big Ant can see.

One early image immediately solidified that If I Go Will They Miss Me was going to be an all-time great movie in my book. As Lil Ant is regaling viewers with stories about the important people in his life, he begins waxing poetic about his father's teenage years. The camera then cuts to an old-timey television set with the distant figures of young Big Ant and his two friends on the monitor. As the camera pulls back, the television is revealed to be outside on some train tracks. The shot continues from there, though, and it's two men proceed to pick up the television and move it off-screen. Turns out this device didn't even have a monitor inside. Young Big Ant and pals were visible through the void created by the device's absent screen.

This creative visual is a fantastic way of establishing the past (older technology=flashback) and, via the distance between teenage Big Ant and the camera, communicating how removed Lil Ant is from his father. This child only has stories painting a remote portrait of Big Ant. Plus, it's just an incredibly smart image to watch constantly evolve. Such impactful and idiosyncratic visuals Walter Thompson-Hernández's direction and Michael Fernandez's cinematography. Many of them echo this TV-based image in capturing events through a removed lens. Mirrors, for instance, are used for capturing many especially tortured moments in Lil Ant's house. Other times, the camera will pull back to evocatively frame people like Big Ant or Lotzita, only partially visible through barely opened doors.

If I Go Will They Miss Me's imagery also thrives on deeply moving beauty coated in years of lived-in experience and wistfulness. Just look at the sudden cut to Big Ant and Lotzita in their wedding day outfits. As they stare into the camera, covered in radiant attire, Thompson-Hernández's camera exudes immense poignancy and genuine affection. It feels like the viewer is gazing into the wedding photos of dear loved ones. This flashback's lucious atmosphere vibrantly communicates, without a word ever being spoken, why Lotzita remains loyal to her husband. There was love here. Their wedding day was defined by joy, not obligation. Memories of that joy compel her to keep going in this relationship. Such immense character-based insightfulness and beauty come impressively naturally to If I Go Will They Miss Me.

Lil Ant's everyday world in Watts, Los Angeles, is filtered through similar dreamlike, caring means. The latter quality means Thompson-Hernández lingers on even the smallest moments of everyday existence here, like Lotzita boisterously playing Mahjong with relatives, Big Ant chatting with co-workers, or a tender mother/son hug. If I Go Will They Miss Me is a marvel to watch, especially when paired up with the sweeping original score from Malcolm Parsons. Leaning heavily on transportive violin playing and classical instruments, Parsons delivers various original compositions that match the majestic visuals. It's no wonder Lil Ant is briefly depicted watching a Fantasia segment, since If I Go Will They Miss Me has a similar love for merging classical-sounding music with outstanding images.

 

This absorbingly intimate production also excels phenomenally showcasing sublime acting. Like the cast members of other features rooted in everyday reality like Bicycle Thieves, the If I Go Will They Miss Me actors immediately register asd tangibly authentic. They're not Glenn Close in Hillbilly Elegy straining to do a caricature of working-class life. Danielle Brooks, for instance, is outstanding portraying Lozita. Any moment where her character is emotionally vulnerable with her children had me getting choked up. A quiet sequence where Lozita smokes and talks with her sister in the bathroom, though, also shows how Brooks can flourish in this role even when she isn't acting against Lil Ant. In this interaction, Brooks movingly captures Lozita's indecision over where she should go next with her life. There's a jagged uncertainty here that's as relatable as it is riveting.

J. Alphonse Nicholson, though, proves a breakout star with his work as Big Ant. There's a moment midway through the film where Nicholson portrays his character stumbling onto the elaborate wings and horse Lil Ant's made for his class. Curious and impressed by the artistry, Big Ant puts the wings on his hands, smiles, and then playfully flaps them. Momentarily, the sequence will go in a darker direction. In this moment, though, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Nicholson's heartbreakingly beautiful portrayal of a man finally letting his guard down. All throughout this feature, Nicholson delivers such specific and perceptive glimpses into Big Ant's mind. In weaker hands, Big Ant could've just been an off-putting, aloof father figure. J. Alphonse Nicholson, meanwhile, always makes the character's complex humanity tangible, even in his most repellent moments.

The richly detailed approach defining Nicholson's work extends to the entirety of If I Go Will They Miss Me. Even the sound design is remarkable, with the constant roar of airplanes and the distant hum of an ice cream van lending such texture to the area Lil Ant and his family call home. All that artistry means writer/director Walter Thompson-Hernández has delivered a motion picture that at once feels like wandering through a dream, soaking in childhood memories, and observing neo-realism cinema. That sounds paradoxical on paper, but isn't that what life is? Existence is many contradictions hastily strung together. Cinema should recognize that. Cinema should embrace that. Artists should create melodically sweeping and visually sumptuous odes to that reality, just like If I Go Will They Miss Me.