For reasons which are too complicated (and boring) to elaborate, I was just reading this strangely positive review of the early-80s big-budget stinker, Krull. For a story allegedly set in an alien world in its medieval phase, everything screamed "Eighties!" -- including big, wild, elaborate hairdos (on both genders: check!), lots of makeup (check!), an insubstantial pretty-boy long-haired blond hero (check!) leading the battle against a dark overlord (check!) -- executed with zero ironic overtones (check!).

Attempting to excuse this disaster, the author notes:

Movies competing against Krull at the multiplex:

WarGames
Trading Places
Superman 3
Octopussy
Staying Alive
Jaws 3-D

Don't giggle. All of these movies turned a hefty profit. Plus there was another little movie out at the time called Return of the Jedi and Krull also was released the same day as Risky Business and National Lampoon's Vacation.

Note that at least six of those films are icons today: yet another exhibit in my case for "Why the 80s rocked and everything since then sucked" -- entertainment-wise, that is. The tech's much better today.

Can you name a period of time in, say, the 1990s or this decade when something near six films all destined to become icons were in the theaters at about the same time?

No? Why not? What have we had since then? The LoTR trilogy? True -- but it was written in the 1940s. Jurassic Park? Sure, I'll grant that "icon" status. And at least one of the "Matrix" movies. Sadly, after a few other such luminous titles are ticked off (Schindler's List, Titanic, Forrest Gump, Toy Story) we devolve into titles like The Truman Show and Good Will Hunting -- good films, but not enduring icons on the level of Saturday Night Fever. (Mind you, "iconic" is not the same as high quality -- "Unforgiven" is arguably of a much higher quality than "Dirty Harry" but that doesn't mean it's more of a cultural icon.) Such icons are today fewer, and much farther between.

The oddity of this situation was driven home the other day: I was walking to grab some fast food at work, and passed a young man (mid-20s) in his car, sitting in the parking lot, waiting, with car stereo cranked. He was listening to "Carry On My Wayward Son" by Kansas (late 70s). On the way back he was still there, belting out some other classic from the same era ("Oye Como Va" by Santana, if I recall). This kind of thing isn't uncommon.

To understand the equivalence, imagine it's the summer of 1979. Disco is on its way out. The Eagles, Styx, Supertramp, Kansas, Queen, ELO, Pink Floyd, Alice Cooper, and The Who are knocking 'em dead on tours. New hits by Billy Joel and Elton John are making their way up the charts. And you're wandering through a parking lot and come across a young guy dressed in the threads of his era (think "That 70's Show"), sitting in his car -- and he's blasting out the greatest hits of the late 1940s -- Dinah Shore singing "Buttons and Bows", "Ghost Riders in the Sky", Spike Jones, and Perry Como.

Absurd? Yes. But that's what's happening today.

What happened?

For one, the relevant technologies had already plateaued back then: Yes, computers have gotten smaller, faster, cheaper, etc. -- but the relevant technologies had peaked by the late 1970s and early 1980s. There's a huge difference in sound quality between a quality 1969 recording and one from 1959 -- but not so big from 1969 to 2009 -- the old stuff still sounds fresh today.

Likewise, there's been little to no significant sonic innovation since the advent of the synthesizer. Rather, people decided that synthesizers were tapped out (I disagree) and went back to pre-synth punk (grunge) motifs. So, in a sense, the sounds of the 1979 still sound culturally familiar today, whereas a 1939 recording (with big bands and clarinets) was already worlds away from the psychedelic sounds of the the late sixties.

Second, like the globe itself, technology has made our cultural history smaller and nearer. Back in the 1970s, the TV carried three major networks -- if you were close enough to an urban area. If you wanted to watch old movies (in black and white) you watched something on UHF. It was rather harder to access thirty-year-old teledrama (most of which had been destroyed, sadly, shortly after airing) then that it is today: turn on TVLand, and wait -- in less than 24 hours "Leave It To Beaver" will air again! Or go to Hulu. So the newer images and sounds are in much more real competition with older ones.

Third, paradoxically, we're more culturally illiterate. Yes, we've all seen "Gilligan's Island", "Love Boat" and "Star Trek" (TOS) -- but earlier classics were created by and for people versed in Shakespeare, The Iliad, Greek and Roman Mythology, Aesop's Fables (the "A" is silent), American History, and the Bible. We've learned what little we know of classical music from Bugs Bunny and Disney cartoons, but when they first came out "Kill The Wabbit" and Fantasia were mere snippets from the then-familiar opus of composers like Wagner (pronounced like "Vagner"), Bach, Tchaikovsky, and Stravinsky.

And today's urchins aren't even familiar with that much.

This makes the difference between "My Fair Lady" and "The Family Guy." The former was a retelling of the classical Greek myth of Pygmalian (a sculptor falls in love with his statue, which Venus brings to life; Professor Higgins turns a lower-class woman into a socialite). The later is an endless barrage of inch-deep cultural references ("sound and fury, signifying nothing", one might say), without which the show would be otherwise vapid and unwatchable. (Which it is, largely, anyway, IMO.) One is an exploration of the role of dialect, class, and alleged credentials in social interactions and valuations -- and the ability of a man to control his own creation (or not) -- the other, a series of regurgitated soundbites interwoven with vomit and sex jokes.

But what do we really expect, if all kids (like Seth McFarlane) have to draw on is "A Few Good Men", "Airplane" (which I think is brilliant, BTW), Freddy Kruger, Madonna, Bill Clinton, and Kid Rock? No knock on these things (though some surely deserve one), but they're no replacement for the former mythic sources.

Fourth, I think the availability of technology itself is causing problems. When synthesizers first appeared, musicians embraced them: "Hey, let's try to make some music structured around a palette of totally new sounds!" So you had acts like Front 242, Erasure, Thomas Dolby, and Howard Jones doing innovative stuff. Today, it's: "Yawn... synthesizers? Please, that's so 1980s." Well, maybe, but it hasn't all been done yet. We've only begun to tap the total universe of sound computers, sampling, and electronic music synthesis can provide. But, hey, it's passe. Guitars, everyone! (Much more novel!)

Likewise, CGI is making things -- dare I say it -- too easy. Once upon a time, it was really difficult to do convincing special effects -- meaning that either people would be so wowed by them the story almost wouldn't matter ("2001") -- or that you had to rely on plot and imagination to cover weaknesses in your special effects department. ("Star Trek", for example -- the Horta were just giant rubber rock-creatures (and the Tribbles just balls of fuzz) but what an interesting story!) Today, it's just assumed that special effects will carry the day -- so who cares about the stupid plot? ("Night at the Museum 2", anyone? "Terminator: Salvation"?) (BTW: Gore is a kind of special effect, hence "Saw IV", going where no fake blood could go before.)

Fifth and finally, I fear we've lost our cultural courage and optimism. (Or at least Hollywood has.) Before the recent reboot of "Star Trek", I was subjected to (I can't put it more nicely) a trailer imploring the audience to see yet another remake: "Land of the Lost." Alleged inducements? Yucky-slimy-gross moments! Crude sexual humor! (Cha-ka and Rick Martin copping a feel from Holly.) Giant Dinosaurs! (Wow, never seen that in a film before!)

In contrast, the older series may have had horrid special effects, rated G dialog (horrors!), and a general lack of continuity. But it made up for all that with imaginative ideas -- the original "Land of the Lost" had some of the best Sci-Fi writers in the business:

A number of well-respected writers in the science fiction field contributed scripts to the series, including Larry Niven ["Ringworld"], Theodore Sturgeon [pon far, and Spock's "Live Long and Prosper"], Ben Bova [numerous SF anthologies], and Norman Spinrad, and a number of people involved with Star Trek, such as Dorothy "D.C." Fontana, Walter Koenig, and David Gerrold.

JJ Abrams' "Star Trek" worked because it took the old show somewhat seriously, and yet was also confident enough to try something new. (Abrams did the same thing with Godzilla in "Cloverfield", making the monster a child, telling the story from the POV of the crowds below, and attaching monsterlets to the bigger beast. Compare with reliance upon Matthew Broderick's mugging.)

In contrast, I suspect the writers of the new "Land of the Lost" were afraid they wouldn't be able to come up with anything interesting and original (and perhaps thought the original idea too corny to take seriously), and so went for irony, sex, spite, and crude humor -- roughly the same formula as the Brady Bunch remake, Scooby Doo, Car 54 Where Are You?, and Dr. Doolittle to name a few. The writers of the recent "Speed Racer" undoubtedly suffered the same inferiority complex (or should have, judged by the final result), but fell back on computer graphics and well-known stars rather than crudity. (Same for "Lost in Space", "The Wild Wild West" and "The Flintstones".)

If you don't believe in something, what is there to say?

What can be done? Not much. The corporations in charge lack creativity, and the people with creativity will have to produce their product on their own. In some cases (JK Rowling, for example, and Tolkien) the corporate wonks will finally relent and give it a go -- after their works succeeded quite without Sony's backing. In other cases (Asimov's "I Robot") the suits will recognize potential, but think it can't be presented to modern audiences until they "improve" it in so many ways.

And in other cases, brilliance will continued to be neglected as too threatening, risky, or untrendy. You can't give the masses something if even the studio or record execs are unable to fathom or enjoy it.