

An Ad With More Buzz Than Most Movies
The overlooked power of the 'United 93' trailer
April 15, 2006
Movie trailers meant to set pulses pounding often achieve
the opposite result. They've become so ritualized, noisy,
oppressive and numerous that they function as depressants,
putting audiences in a transitory funk. But not the trailer
for "United 93." For the past couple of weeks, moviegoers
have been electrified, or horrified, by a preview of Universal's
forthcoming feature about the passenger revolt aboard one
of the airliners hijacked on Sept. 11. Some have suggested
that the trailer shouldn't be shown at all, and no wonder;
there's never been anything like it.
For almost two decades, since the advent of digital editing,
trailers have employed similar techniques: quick cuts (though
this one begins with haunting calm on a beautiful morning),
cross-cuts connecting disparate elements, nervous camera movements,
graphic detail, pounding music, rising suspense and then explosive
violence. Not until now, however, has a trailer used these
potent tools -- and used them exceedingly well -- to dramatize
a real-life event of epochal importance, one that still retains
the power to overwhelm us with feelings of dread, awe and
grief.
SNEAK PEEK
View the trailer for "United 93," and read Joe Morgenstern's
take on three previews worth seeing for themselves, as well
as for what they reveal of the films that spawned them. Whether
the studio should or shouldn't have unleashed such a literally
stunning preview on theatrical audiences (as well as on the
Web, and now, in a tamer version, on TV) remains to be seen.
If "United 93" proves equal to its subject, objections
will be moot. If the movie turns out to be a disappointment,
the 150-second trailer heralding it will be seen, like so
many of its genre, as one more piece of crass exploitation.
For the moment, it's worth noting that these short, vivid
takes on the movies' timeless themes -- heroism and death
-- have suddenly breathed new life into a stagnant, if not
moribund, form. Trailers rarely make us feel much of anything
any more. Yet they were once, not so long ago, a bountiful
source of excitement and innocent pleasure.
They're called trailers because very long ago, before the
movies learned to talk, they trailed -- trailers were projected
after, rather than before, the short silent features and serials
of the day. At first they consisted of slides, then crudely-assembled
scenes, often outtakes from the film, that were called animated
heralds. By the early 1920s, distributors were putting trailers
on separate reels so exhibitors could show them first, thereby
taking advantage of captive audiences. By the late 1920s,
optical printers and the art of montage led to quite sophisticated
trailers with special effects -- the one for the original
"King Kong" in 1933 looks almost modern. (I learned
some of this from a fascinating film, "Coming Attractions:
The History of the Movie Trailer," that was shown earlier
this week at the University of California-Los Angeles film
school's documentary salon.)
What we've loved about trailers -- which, like the movies
they advertise attract passionate fans -- has changed radically
over the decades. In Hollywood's heyday, trailers often used
pontifical hosts, who were usually actors (Sidney Greenstreet
purring, "I'm going to tell you an astounding story,
the story of the Maltese Falcon") or star directors (Alfred
Hitchcock giving a guided tour of the Bates Motel for "Psycho,"
Cecil B. DeMille hailing the character of Moses in "The
Ten Commandments" by showing Michelangelo's "original
statue in Rome; notice the likeness to Charlton Heston").Evoking
Real-Life Horror: Frames from the original theatrical trailer
for "United 93."
Trailers also relied on limitless HYPERBOLE!!!
-- "NOTHING LIKE IT EVER SEEN!" "THE MOST REMARKABLE
SCREEN CHARACTERIZATION EVER WITNESSED!" In the late
1950s and '60s, though, the power of positive exaggerating
gave way to the power of graphic design, influenced by such
innovative artists as Saul Bass and Pablo Ferro, and by the
trailer executive Andrew Kuehn. One of the most influential
trailers of the 1970s -- touting one of the most influential
films -- was "Jaws," which was shot from the shark's
point of view. ("It is as if God created the devil...and
gave him...JAWS!")
Trailers have always tried to make their movies look good
by heightening the highs and omitting the lows, but sometimes
the highs don't need heightening. Those who saw the first
"Star Wars" trailers that surfaced in 1976 still
remember the exquisite shock -- was that a gorilla at the
controls of a space ship? As summer spectaculars grew ever
more so, trailers kept pace -- quick cuts of a boulder chasing
Harrison Ford in "Raiders of the Lost Ark," of Tom
Cruise jockeying a Tomcat jet in "Top Gun."
Yet the pace quickened radically in the late 1980s as film
editing moved to the digital domain -- so-called nonlinear
computer systems that allowed editors to make more edits in
less time, and therefore at less cost, than ever before. And
the impact of their labors was amplified throughout the nation's
multiplexes by umpteen-channel Dolby sound systems and subwoofers
strong enough to register on the Richter scale.
By now we've learned to protect ourselves from trailers, either
by coming late (some theater chains have begun to acknowledge
the extent of the plague by posting actual feature times)
or by zoning out, and there's a lot to zone out from -- scenes
that reveal most of the plot (the trailer for "Cast Away"
gave away the ending), narrations that seem to be delivered
by the same actor in the same bilious-basso doomsday voice.
In fact, the voiceover king of movie trailers, Don LaFontaine,
has many soundalike colleagues, and audience research experts
insist, with some evidence, that moviegoers want to know as
much about the plot as they can learn before buying tickets.
Be that as it may, movie audiences are shrinking, and one
reason, in addition to the obvious problem of mediocre movies,
is tedious trailers, and too many of them. What was once the
cherished ritual of watching coming attractions -- to use
an older-fashioned term -- has turned into something approaching
ritual punishment, not to mention numbness. In this context,
the controversy in advance of "United 93" has another
dimension. Yes, the images are shocking, and we may not have
been ready to confront them. Still, that is a far cry from
numbness. For once a trailer evokes deep emotion, and forces
us to think about what we're feeling