Are We in the Golden Age of Blockbuster Trash?

You may or may not have noticed the shocking phenomenon that occurred over the weekend, and no, it wasn't just the U.S. men's hockey team defeating Canada. This one came out of the multiplex, where Valentine's Day and The Wolfman each took second-week tumbles pushing 70 percent. Both films were expected to plunge from their opening-week heights -- particularly Valentine's Day, which was developed for the express purpose of separating dates from their money on its namesake holiday. Yet for a film so loaded with stars and with no new genre competition opening against it, 69.5 percent seemed a little... extreme. The same goes for Wolfman, against which even a new thriller like Shutter Island shouldn't normally account for a 68.7 percent drop. There are a lot of factors to consider, but they all lead to one conclusion: This is a golden age for blockbuster trash.

Look at it this way: Of the 100 biggest second-weekend drops since 1982 (when records for this kind of wonky stuff begin), only 19 of those films did so in a domestic release of 3,000 screens or more. Of those 19 films, seven titles -- Friday the 13th, Watchmen, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Year One, The Twilight Saga: New Moon, Valentine's Day and The Wolfman -- opened in the calendar year between Feb. 13, 2009, and Feb. 12, 2010. (Added bonus: Wolverine and New Moon also happened to be the only two films in the 100 worst drops to open on more than 4,000 screens.)

If you apply the same criteria to 2008, another five films -- Cloverfield, Hellboy II, Meet Dave, Saw V, and The Day the Earth Stood Still -- also join the list. (Another fun fact: If it weren't for the two July 11 releases Hellboy II and Meet Dave, then Valentine's Day and The Wolfman would share the plunging-percentage record for films released on the same date.) Among the wide releases most dramatically cast aside by American audiences, 70 percent opened in last two years. In other words, blockbuster trash.

This isn't good. Sure, there have been some tremendous successes in that time, including the obvious example of Avatar, the biggest grosser in cinema history. And for some of these franchise titles -- Wolverine, New Moon, and Hellboy II in particular -- the foreign gross is all along intended to supplement and often surpass their domestic grosses. Yet their tendencies to burn at such unprecedented rates are an odd, even scary development in the way audiences devour and discard brands. After all, they're brands that Hollywood is betting on for long-term viability or, in the cases of Watchmen and Wolfman, at least some staying power in a generally dead season for movies. They're too expensive to function as single-use blockbuster trash like Valentine's Day, Friday the 13th and the Saw films.

That doesn't mean they can't be a variety of blockbuster trash. Let's call it the Means-to-an-End Variety -- the one that coexists alongside the long tails of The Hangover, The Proposal and The Blind Side (and to a lesser degree District 9 and Inglourious Basterds). It's the variety boasting bigger production budgets, saturation marketing and/or Roman numerals in the title. It's the variety that doesn't let you forget what studios are supposed to be good at. Take Sony for example, which offloaded the likes of Year One while more quietly laying a foundation for a more permanent structure along the lines of Julie and Julia.

I know what you're thinking, and I agree: Of course they're different films for different audiences. Junk has always coexisted with the good stuff, and it always will. Sort of: As the appetite for blockbuster trash -- all those expensive empty calories -- turns to the recycled, almost holistic appeal of a Paranormal Activity or Dear John, consider the real necessity of wide releases films that lose more than two-thirds of their value in a matter of days. As long as agents are around to bundle projects, you'll probably always see them pop up, but never this concentrated and combustible. Rather, they'll be cheaper and cheaper, until Jersey Shore: The Movie arrives on a shoestring of a budget and a juice head promotional blitz.

Utterly disposable, sure, and maybe a hit. But blockbuster trash? Never. Enjoy it while you can.