“We are the Men in Black.”
There is an art to crafting a good B-movie.
People often think of it as a criticism, assuming the B stands for Bad.
But really it comes from an early studio system that had tiers for their productions, the
A films simply having a higher budget or a longer runtime than the lower B-tier.
But these lower budgets inspired an array of campy sci-fi or horror movies like the
Hammer productions that eventually led to cinema classics like Psycho or Easy Rider.
The exploitation movies from early Hollywood inspired George Lucas when creating Indiana
Jones and Star Wars, as well as influencing the original summer blockbuster, Steven Spielberg’s
Jaws.
It was this unique combination of arthouse and camp influence that led to some of the
highest grossing films ever made, and launched countless other careers.
Nowadays this B-movie template has been used by virtually every other blockbuster of the
last 50 years, it’s at the core of everything from the MCU, to James Bond, to Jurassic Park.
But sadly I think in most of these modern franchises or even the standalone summer blockbusters,
they’ve been able to capture the camp, but that arthouse influence has mostly been lost.
When we go back to the blockbusters of the 90’s, you can see what I mean.
When films actually put actors in the same room to film a scene, when effects shots weren’t
slapped together by overworked and underpaid VFX artists, when directors were allowed to
chase their own artistic vision and not just comfortably fit into some mega-franchise.
Men in Black may not be my favorite blockbuster from this era, but it’s been a movie I’ve
loved ever since I was a kid, and I still return to it often when I want to be reminded
of what good blockbuster filmmaking looks like.
I think we can all agree that the two sequels were less than perfect, and I have yet to
even watch the newest one, but I think the original film should be studied by anyone
trying to make fun escapist entertainment today.
Because it packs all of the punch that you would expect from a summer movie, it’s got
humor, action, a little bit of romance, but there’s such a depth to the craft, specifically
in its writing that I feel is often overlooked.
So a brief primer in case you haven’t seen it or it’s been a while, the Men in Black
operate in secret outside any other system on Earth.
They made contact with aliens decades ago and now work as a hybrid of diplomat or immigration
attorney, and even law enforcement.
They handle the day to day complications of trying to keep hundreds of aliens hidden here
on Earth, while avoiding unnecessary conflict with any other civilization.
After K’s partner goes into retirement, he starts the process to find a replacement,
bringing in candidates with military or police backgrounds to try out for the job.
While the following scenes aren’t an introduction to J, they give us the perfect distillation
of his character, and why he’s ultimately chosen for the job.
Becoming an agent of the Men in Black carries a unique responsibility, highly classified,
highly sensitive situations, that if poorly handled could start a galactic war.
So they’re looking for someone who can offer the best of the best physically like you’d
find in the typical soldier, but they need someone who is more than that.
There’s no rule book for half of what they encounter on a daily basis so they need someone
intelligent, someone capable of quick thinking, but also someone with inherent humanity and
compassion.
“You’re late.
Sit down.”
When all of the candidates sit down to take the first test, J is immediately isolated
from the pack in multiple ways, he’s the last to arrive, he sits at the very end of
the row, and he’s the only one not wearing military dress uniform.
On the surface, it’s an odd man out gag, the humor arises from the inherent awkwardness
of the situation that he seems clearly out of place within, but under the humor is so
much great character detail that reveals exactly why he was the perfect choice.
While the rest are happy to follow any given order and simply hope to attain this position
that they know nothing about, J is the only one to even question what they’re doing
there.
“What’s so funny Edwards?”
“Yo he’s just really excited and he has no clue why we’re here, and that’s just
very funny to me.”
The rest of this scene continues the gag, as he accidentally rips the test and breaks
his pencil, and then awkwardly drags the table over.
“You want to get down on this?”
But think about it, why give everyone an egg shaped chair that’s awkward to sit in with
a flimsy paper test and no surface to write on?
Unquestioning, the rest just fumble around and try to use their leg or the inside of
the chair to little success, but it’s J that realizes there is a perfectly good table
just sitting there.
He shows resourcefulness, problem solving, determination, and he remains firm in his
convictions despite clear judgment from others.
It’s played for humor because in his mind and everyone else’s in that room, he’s
totally blowing this interview, but the opposite is actually happening.
The next scene basically runs through all of these same steps, but it does it all even
better, as they’re put into a shooting drill with flashing lights and cardboard cutouts.
Every other candidate immediately opens fire at everything that looks like a monster, while
J shoots the little girl.
“May I ask why you felt little Tiffany deserved to die?”
Again, there’s just an inherent humor to the situation, but underneath that humor is
more character detail that gives us everything we need to know, even if we don’t catch
it on the first viewing.
The Men in Black defuse conflicts, they don’t start them.
Having some trigger happy marine who has been conditioned to fire without thinking isn’t
really going to work well with aliens of all shapes and sizes who often dispel any preconceived
notions about what “looks” like a monster and what actually is one.
J is the only one who shows any hesitation, but he’s really just exercising caution
in a situation that clearly needs it.
He explains his decision using logic that plays like a joke, referencing a little white
girl in the ghetto and the suspiciously complicated textbooks she’s carrying around.
“She’s about to start some s**t Zed, she’s about 8 years old, those books are way too
advanced for her.
You ask me?
I’d say she’s up to something.”
Everyone else in the room gives him that knowing smirk, like “can you believe this guy?”
But it turns out that he’s right.
As the animated series confirms, this little Tiffany is actually a disguise for the Bug
Queen that’s looking to start a war.
So when the rest of these candidates are getting what they believe to be some warm adulation,
Zed is actually mocking them.
“Congratulations.
You’re everything we’ve come to expect from years of government training.”
These are such perfectly crafted scenes because they play as straight entertainment, we can
laugh at the situation and we can relate to that awkwardness, but these aren’t just
moments of levity, it’s levity that moves the story forward, that establishes important
character traits, and it’s shocking how rare moments like this have become in most
modern blockbusters.
Too often moments of humor are just that, a little pause to get a chuckle out of the
audience before moving on with the rest of the story, but there’s no reason a scene
can’t do both.
Naturally we want humor in our escapist entertainment, but it should affect the story, or at the
least tell us more about the characters, like the infamous pizza-time scene from Spider-Man
2.
This isn’t just an iconic meme moment, it’s showing us an incredibly low point in Peter’s
life, where this attempt at juggling both his daily life as Peter and his secret life
as Spider-Man are starting to take its toll, setting us up for the moments where he loses
something far more valuable than a delivery job.
These scenes are all setup, the majority of the film is about the partnership they develop
as they try and stop this war, so you want to get the story moving in that direction
pretty quickly, but making sure these scenes do more than just move the story forward or
pause for a moment of levity is what makes them great.
Just these little touches that give us a better idea of these characters, that start to form
the bond they’ll develop throughout the film.
Like this moment after J has been chosen and K is bringing him up to speed.
“Aw you brought that tall man some flowers.”
It’s not just funny, it’s setting the groundwork for their friendship through these
shared ideals, he didn’t react with fear or confusion or judgment, he doesn’t even
call him an alien but a tall man.
He sees the humanity, for lack of a better word, in these aliens, and that’s exactly
what K was hoping to find.
“Let’s hope you know what you’re doing.”
The film is obviously elevated for many reasons, Barry Sonnenfeld’s direction, Danny Elfman’s
score, Rick Baker’s effects, the performances in particular carry a lot of the heavy weight,
especially Vincent D’Onofrio who I think is absolutely mesmerizing to watch in this
movie.
But it all stars with a great script, as Spielberg likes to say if it ain’t on the page, it
ain’t on the stage.
And the script that Ed Solomon created is filled with tons of these subtle character
moments throughout, I just wanted to highlight a few of my favorites here, because I think
this should be how more films are written, with thoughtful intention behind every scene
that can give us a laugh while building character relationships and giving us a reason to root
for someone.
The kind of film that can offer some solid slapstick, while also giving us moments that
could belong in any critical darling.
“1,500 years ago everybody knew the Earth was the center of the universe, 500 years
ago everybody knew the Earth was flat, and 15 minutes ago you knew that people were alone
on this planet.
Imagine what you’ll know tomorrow.”
There’s a lot can be said for this movie and its strengths, it still holds up shockingly
well even after so many years, and I wish more movies of today could look like real
movies again, with real cinematography and proper sets, but mostly I just want to see
clever B-movie writing again, something that knows how to have fun, but not lose all semblance
of artistry in the process, and maybe bring back some of the cinematic literacy that made
these original campy movies so successful in the first place.