There are an awful lot of sequels being made that nobody asked for. Dominic Corry takes a look at a few of the worst.
In the fickle eyes of the collective moviegoer, sequels are not generally held in very high esteem. It's one of the most complained-about aspects of moviedom - too many sequels. I have no problem with sequels. Some of my best friends are sequels. Like any other movie, it all comesdown to execution.
Brand recognition is of course the reason most sequels exist, but for that existence to be justified, the prospect must carry with it at the least some tiny kernel of audience interest. It's not asking for much. We all know the movies are a business first and foremost, but it's incumbent upon the studios to downplay this fact, which requires them to display some awareness of what audiences actually want to see.
That awareness was nowhere to be found when Disney recently announced plans for Tron 3. 2010's Tron: Legacy wasn't exactly a flop, generating $400 million at the global box office. But I would be surprised if anyone who saw it could tell you a single thing that occurs in the movie. It was one of the emptiest blockbusters in recent years, and was outshone in every regard by the accompanying Daft Punk music video.
Yet Tron 3 is happening. Sequels were no doubt always part of Disney's plan for the IP, but the muted response to Tron: Legacy should really have brought an end to those plans, and most of us no doubt presumed this was indeed the case.
There's no greater creative justification for say, a fifth Transformers movie, than there is for a third Tron film, but at least the Transformers films have a central role to play in the popular culture, shallow they may be. They make an impact, for better or worse. Plus kids freaking love them. Nobody loved Tron: Legacy.
Ahead of time, audiences were willing to accept the idea that last year's Need for Speed could potentially function as the Pepsi to Fast and Furious' Coke. Then we all saw the film and that notion no longer seemed viable. Need for Speed's hollow pointlessness made the F&F franchise look like Shakespeare by comparison.
A Need for Speed sequel is being made.
N for S generated only $43 million at the US domestic box office, which contributed to a $200 million global total. Not entirely shameful numbers, but hardly an encouraging start to a would-be blockbuster franchise. It should really have died a quiet death then and there. But no.
Despite not one single resident of planet earth calling for it, a sequel to Need for Speed is indeed being cooked up as we speak. We'd be better off with a sequel to Rat Race.
What car-centric adventures will whatshisname and the other guy get up to next? Will Michael Keaton be involved again? Will he get to leave his room this time? These are questions nobody is asking.
A similar stink of "huh?" hangs over the The Huntsman, next year's follow-up to the 100% derivative 2012 fantasy Snow White and the Huntsman, which I touched on a few weeks ago. Not only is this film definitely happening, they've roped in poor Jessica Chastain. How is this a major franchise?
The Huntsman will be a follow-up to 2012's Snow White and the Huntsman.
All these sequels that shouldn't exist got me thinking about earlier instances of movie follow-ups that sprung forth from a demand vacuum.
For some reason, the movie that always jumps to mind as the most pointless sequel of all time is The Whole Ten Yards, the 2004 continuation of the saga that began in the beloved-by-nobody The Whole Nine Yards. The sequel is now principally remembered for the atrocious photoshop job seen on the poster.
The one thing you can say about Weekend At Bernie's (1989) is that some people have seen it. It wasn't a hit, but in the years following its release, it developed a minor reputation as a film that exists. So four years later, along came Weekend At Bernie's II. And nobody rejoiced. Except maybe Terry Kiser.
At least Weekend At Bernie's II had the budget to ensure Andrew McCarthy involvement. 1991's Mannequin: On The Move - follow-up to 1987's McCarthy-starring Mannequin - could only afford to bring back Meshach Taylor. Although they did get Terry Kiser in, so that's something.
A cult film like Showgirls(1996) is more deserving of a sequel than most studio trash, but nobody anticipated that when one eventually came along in 2011, it would be thanks to the original film's sixth female lead.
Elizabeth Berkley in 90's flop Showgirls.
Rena Riffel, who played the minor character of Penny in Paul Verhoeven's original camp classic, took centre stage for Showgirls 2: Penny's From Heaven, which she also wrote, directed, produced and edited. Good for her. Even if the trailer plays like a filmed ransom demand, you have to admire Riffel for taking charge of her own career.
300 (2006) was a rousing action epic defined by the death of all its characters. But that didn't stop last year's late-arriving 300: Rise of an Empire from capitalising on the brand by hanging a spurious narrative around the edges of the prior film. The result was nice to look at, but so are sunsets and those are free.
300's studio Warner Bros. is similarly fixated on extending the commercial success of I Am Legend, the 2007 Will Smith film defined by last-minute plot tampering and an ending that directly contradicts the point of the source material. It made a lot of money, even though nobody really liked it.
Although Smith's presence must account for a large percentage of the original's success, WB has been actively developing a prequel for a while, and it now looks set to go ahead without Smith's involvement. Because all the kids are simply champing at the bit for another instalment in the I Am Legend saga. I guess it is a pretty cool title. But Richard Matheson deserves better.
• Do you think any of these sequels are exciting? Or would you rather they go away? What do you think is the most pointless sequel ever? Comment below!
