Reboots

This essay explores some of the ways in which Smallville, as one of many examples of popular media, places us in the position of the Swamp Thing: the series confronts us not only with the history of Superman as a transmedia phenomenon, but also challenges Smallville’s audience to understand how and why it intersects with the spatio-temporal realities of many other media stories and characters. Adopting and adapting a mode of storytelling that has dominated the comics since the 1960s, Smallville not only participates in an intense dialogic engagement with the codes that comprise the Superman media universe, but it also becomes one of many Superman realities that occupy a multiverse of possibilities.

In March 2016, the trailer for Paul Feig’s Ghostbusters reboot debuted onli- ne and su ered the unfortunate accolade of being the most disliked trailer in YouTube history. Popular news media, including professional, pro-am, and amateur commentators, picked up on the resulting online kerfu e as clear indication that there is something ro en in the state of fandom. Feig himself frequently turned to the echo chamber of social media to denoun- ce fans as “some of the biggest arseholes I’ve ever met in my life”. Addres- sing fans that singled out the reboot as “ruining my childhood,” Feig poured fuel on the  re by criticising such a perspective as merely the product of “some whacked-out teenager,” overdramatic, pathological and, perhaps more pointedly, “toxic”. In so doing, Feig—and, by extension, the cast of the Ghostbusters reboot—replicated and re-activated traditional stereoty- pes of the fanboy—living in his mother’s basement and obsessing over trivial entertainment.
This article takes the claims of “childhood ruination” seriously to examine what is at stake for fans of the original Ghostbusters  lm. Despite the or- gans of online media heavily criticising fanboys as misogynistic relics and sexist heathens, o en in aggressive ways, I argue that fans’ a ective, nostal- gic a achment to the  rst Ghostbusters  lm—the “primary cinematic text” (Bernard, 2014)—forms a crucial component of fans’ “self-narratives” (Hills, 2012) and “trajectories of the self ”. By drawing on empirical work on “nostalgic narratives” conducted in the psychology  eld, I argue that it is not simply toxicity that drives these fans to defend the fan-object from being colonised by an invading text, but, rather, what I am terming as to- temic nostalgia, a form of protectionism centred on an a ective relationship with a text, usually forged in early childhood.  reats to the Ghostbusters totemic object, then, “can thus be felt as threats to these fans’ self-narra- tives” (Hills, 2012, p. 114).

In recent years, the raft of horror film remakes which dominated the genre in the 2000s and early 2010s has slowed, only to be replaced by television adaptations of horror films and franchises including Hannibal (NBC, 2013-2015), Rosemary’s Baby (NBC, 2014), From Dusk till Dawn (El Rey, 2014-), Ash vs Evil Dead (Starz, 2015-), Scream (MTV, 2015-), Wolf Creek (Stan, 2016-), The Exorcist (Fox, 2016-) and The Mist (Spike, 2017-). The shift returns the horror remaking trend to a recognisable form of adaptation which takes place across media (Stam 2005), circumventing the common criticism of film-to-film remaking as inherently worthless. The opportunity to add characters and subplots, and expand narratives and story worlds within the realms of new “quality” television, marks the series as perhaps the ideal location to revisit existing stories in new, imaginative ways. The patterns of sameness and difference essential to the function of remakes (Hutcheon 2006, Horton and McDougal 1998) can be realised in series format in a way which avoids many of the criticisms of film remaking as pointless or irreverent.
This paper uses Bates Motel (A&E, 2013-2017) as a case study to explore these ideas. Adapted from Robert Bloch’s novel and hugely influential on modern horror cinema, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) has been sequelised, referenced and remade, each new text contributing to its ultimate canonisation as a classic horror film (Verevis 2006). Bates Motel, marketed as a contemporary prequel to Psycho, should be counted among these texts, but over five seasons the series simultaneously aligns with and sets itself apart from the film. Self-referential aesthetic, dialogue and performance offer homage even as the narrative avoids expectations by altering key plot points. The show adopts a nostalgic position which posits Norma (Vera Farmiga) and Norman (Freddie Highmore) as “old souls” (as one character terms them); their mid-century retro styling, family values, language, and the old-fashioned domestic space of the eponymous motel exists in a bubble that not only emphasises the “special” mother-son bond at the heart of the narrative, but sets the family apart from the contemporary trappings of their fictional town and its inhabitants. This striking clash of old and new, coupled with the series’ persistent theme of “starting over”, makes Bates Motel ideal for examining the shift from film to television horror.

This paper examines the use of authorship discourses in the promotion of media content through the case study of the 2009 Star Trek film, directed by J. J. Abrams. Analysing press interviews and promotional paratexts, I focus on the potential conflict in which a franchise long associated with a distinct auteur figure was rebooted by a different creator, and the implications for marketing Star Trek to different audiences: new viewers and long-time fans. Findings demonstrate the careful management involved in the establishment of film authorship, and how the association with a particular author figure shapes the identity of a franchise.

"The continuing trend for remaking genre cinema is now so prolific that it has become, for many fans and critics alike, a tiresome exercise in reproducing and rebranding cherished films in order to make money at the box office, while seemingly challenging the status of the originals. Academic studies have largely aligned themselves with this popular critical opinion, focusing on ‘derisive’ changes between versions, arguing that the remake can negate the memory of the original (see Frost 2009, Lizardi 2010), or using the new versions to lament the loss of creativity and originality within the genre (see Hantke 2010, Conrich 2010). Key production companies such as Platinum Dunes, responsible for the The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Nispel 2003), Friday the 13th (Nispel 2009), and A Nightmare on Elm Street (Bayer 2010) remakes (among others) are often as vilified by fans and genre press as the films themselves.

This paper aims to move away from (usually, negative) comparative textual analysis, and instead interrogate the commercial logic of remaking horror cinema across key stages of production, distribution and marketing. Using Platinum Dunes’ films as a case study, I will outline how, in ‘rebooting’ key genre franchises, the film makers attempt to rewrite the mythology of the earlier films, adding backstories and developing new characters while maintaining that their new versions will ‘honour’ the original films. I will also discuss key marketing strategies used in promotion, and show how campaigns typically adopt a two tiered approach. Firstly, they rely on ‘brand recognition’, through ancillary promotional materials such as posters and trailers that work to invoke nostalgia in audiences familiar with an original film (or its legacy). Secondly, other marketing discourses (interviews, previews) work to emphasise the differences (improvements, for promotional sakes) in their new, rebooted versions. Finally, this paper will also give consideration to the decisions not to make further sequels to the remakes and thus fulfil the commercial potential of ‘re-franchising’ – despite the financial success of the films.
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