movies

Can we talk about? - Fan service getting out of control.

By Martyn Conterio [Total Film magazine, October 2024 issue]

‘Get away from her, you bitch.’ Great line. Actually, it's iconic. But when it's uttered towards the end of Alien: Romulus, you won't believe your ears. Same goes for the other memorable bits cribbed directly from Ridley Scott's Alien and James Cameron's Aliens. Because it's not just dialogue: there are shots replicated, moments revisited from the series (and video game Alien: Isolation) and one familiar actor from the franchise is brought back from the dead with VFX.

In such instances, does fan service start to feel like a snake eating its own tail? Say what you like about the various merits (or lack thereof) of anything after Aliens, but each film had a distinct identity. Alien movies should aspire to be more than fan fiction.

Audiences have always gotten a kick out of movies referencing other movies (they were doing it as far back as the silent era). But fan service is a relatively new phenomenon linked to properties such as the MCU, the DCEU and Star Wars. A savvy, geek-literate audience now demands Easter eggs and callbacks in every film, every show, and acts vocally disappointed when those treats fail to materialise to their satisfaction.

‘A SAVVY, GEEK-LITERATE AUDIENCE NOW DEMANDS CALLBACKS IN EVERY FILM, EVERY SHOW’ f0026-03 Fury Road: fan service done right (ALAMY) Still, fan service can be creative. George Miller's Mad Max: Fury Road provided a laundry list of nods to the original Mad Max trilogy: it just didn't shout about it. And the nostalgia factor worked too - primarily because it was Miller's own creation, not somebody else's.

The recent Deadpool & Wolverine is another film stuffed to the gills with scenes designed to cause whooping, hollering, and ‘amagawd’ reactions in the auditorium. Meanwhile, 2023's The Flash is a comic-book spectacle that delivered fan service up the wazoo. Did we really need Michael Keaton returning as Batman? Or a CGI Nicolas Cage as Superman (in reference to Tim Burton's abandoned 1990s project)?

How can a blockbuster film stand any chance of becoming a potentially beloved classic on its own terms? A line must be drawn between heartfelt homage and unnecessary (and lazy) nostalgia.

We all love these characters, these franchises, but it's how they're served creatively that matters the most.