Spoiling For A Fight
Man Up
Episode 21 of Season 4 of The Simpsons, ‘Marge In Chains’, aired on 6 May 1993. The Crying Game was released in a limited number of US movie theatres on 25 November 1992. I mention this because, in that episode, Mayor Quimby spoils the notable twist in Neil Jordan’s movie and is roundly booed by the Springfield crowd. He quickly backtracks but the damage is already done. It’s a great example of art imitating life, with the twist here being that, by necessity, the show does the very thing that it is highlighting, spoiling the surprise for anyone yet to see the movie.
As it turns out, as sensational as it may have seemed at the time, the twist isn’t critical in the way that, say, the ending of The Sixth Sense is. But it was still a much-ballyhooed cultural touchpoint (being mentioned in The Simpsons is confirmation of that) and in one fell swoop The Simpsons had taken something from both the people who had seen the movie and had the smug currency of insider knowledge, and those yet to see the movie, some of whom might not bother now they knew. The question is, did The Simpsons do anything wrong? What is a reasonable length of time to keep a secret like this? What unwritten rules are in play?
I owned a copy of ‘Marge In Chains’ as part of a four-episode ‘Crime and Punishment’ VHS tape collection which reflects the era better than simply dates can. Technologically it was a completely different time. The internet was still in diapers and unknown to many. There was usually a gap of at least 6 months between cinema release and home availability, with further variations between rental and retail. What that meant in practice was that The Simpsons had hit that rental window. I genuinely have no idea if that really made any difference to video store trade, but the low-budget indie movie had outstripped expectations considerably at the box office, mostly on the strength of that twist and word-of-mouth, turning its just-south-of $2.5m budget into a North American gross of over $60m, which ain’t exactly the chickens’ feed, to quote Inspector Clouseau in Revenge of the Pink Panther. But this really isn’t about money. It’s about you, the viewer, being able to enjoy a movie as it reveals its secrets to you.
Pop Quiz, Hotshot
It’s easy to point the finger at the internet and, in particular, social media as the root of all evil when it comes to spoiling a movie. While that is true to an extent, at its core spoilage requires willingness on the part of the spoiler or at the very least, a lack of consideration of others, regardless of medium. If you’re reading this, chances are that movies excite you and you want to tell people about the movies you love and why you love them. That ‘why’ often goes hand-in-hand with what you love about them, which starts to kick the door wide open. Even seasoned pros who should know better aren’t immune from this, particularly reviewers seeking to justify their ratings for a movie. I remember the entire third act of Speed being ruined for me by a well-respected UK film publication back in the day, through the most egregious plot-reveal that detailed, not merely hinted at, what was to come.
That’s a somewhat extreme example, reflecting a time when there were far fewer potential sources of spoilers, mostly limited to print media. But it highlights a challenge for any reviewer - to reveal enough about a movie without divulging key information. As someone who reviews movies beyond my Letterboxd account, I recognise what a minefield this is, requiring a high degree of vigilance. It’s not even just about how much you say about the plot. Sometimes you need to be careful what you say about a character’s story arc. If you’re including images from the movie, you absolutely have to watch out that they don’t give the game away by having certain characters together in ways that reveal plot development. It’s kind of telling that, in looking for a suitable image from Speed for this article, one of the first I came across was a shot of two characters together on screen which entirely spoiled that damn third act again.
Attached to a review.
🙄
I’ve resisted the temptation to include it here to illustrate my point, even if Speed is 30 years old. For me, there’s an inherent responsibility to avoid spoiling a movie for future generations too, even if I actually hate that third act.
The Sense Of An Ending
This raises a couple of important points. Firstly, as a reviewer, you’re not there to produce an in-depth critical analysis of every aspect of a movie. It’s not a paper for school with grades depending on it, where every opinion must be fully supported by copious evidence. It’s about giving your audience a sense of what they can expect from a movie and not the sense of an ending. Some of your audience have already decided to see the movie regardless and just want to see you heaping praise on it. Others in that audience aren’t sure and want you to tell them if it’s worth watching. Neither group benefits from chunks of plot, twists, or even cameos, being revealed. But with every reviewer fighting for attention in the online sphere, there’s now more temptation than ever to show people that you’re a great writer, to stand out and build engagement and following, particularly when that engagement is monetized.
Secondly, for some movies - many movies - the time since release should make no difference to the conscious decision to reveal key elements. There are countless cases where this is true, particularly when that ending makes the movie great. I consider Fail Safe (Sidney Lumet) 1964 to be one of the greatest movies ever made. For me, to reveal the ending would be a crime requiring the harshest sanctions because, for me, that moment of lurched stomach and paused heartbeat has to be experienced firsthand with no forewarning. As a result, I’ve lent my old DVD copy to many people over the years with a simple instruction - “You NEED to watch this”. [Author’s note: You DO NEED TO WATCH THIS]
For me, Frank Darabont’s The Mist from 2007 is a good movie, offering a neat blend of sci-fi and Lovecraftian horror. I question if I would consider it more highly, more in line with some of my peers, if I hadn’t known about that ending heading in. For anyone immersed in film and on social media, it’s almost impossible to avoid references to, and clips of, its denouement, particularly with engagement-farming posts on Twitter/X about shocking movie endings. Yes, 17 years is a long time but, when an ending is so critical to the overall feel of a movie, isn’t there a duty to keep schtum or, at the very least, mention the title of the movie without video clipping the scene? I want to have that utter WTF‽ moment that sees me jumping on the phone to that friend who recommended the movie to me and screaming down the phone at them (in a good way).
Is it fair to wonder if giving the game away for a movie is somehow seen as a less egregious sin than doing so for a series for which far more time might have been invested? Well, no. I think that each is equally bad and both seem to be fair game in the wild west of the internet. I recognise now that I was incredibly lucky as I played catch up on Game Of Thrones for the first four seasons, that luck being mostly due to not being particularly active on social media when they first aired. Still, I knew what was going to happen to Sean Bean, and about the increasing significance of Episode 9 of each season. Fortunately, however, no-one spoiled Season 3 Episode 9 for me. Officially titled ‘The Rains of Castamere’, it is more commonly known by its informal, more descriptive title and represents arguably the greatest “What did I just watch?!” moment in television history. It’s just about possible to talk about it obliquely using that informal title without totally giving the game away but, even now, I’m hesitant to do so in case anyone is about to embark on the epic journey of watching the series, for fear of ruining it (though it’s arguable Season 8 already did that…).
I See Dead People
[Spoiler Alert: I don’t]
I don’t want this to seem more complicated than it is. It’s not quite the case that knowing how much you can get away with revealing requires some sort of sixth sense, but it’s important to recognise it’s going to vary between movies. Twenty five years ago, I sat down for a preview screening of a movie that had resulted in the most incredible buzz, from an up-and-coming writer/director by the name of M. Night Shyamalan, a name now synonymous with the twist in the tail. I’d seen the trailer and I knew the kid saw dead people so no spoiler there. I knew that Bruce Willis was in it; again no surprise. But, crucially, I also knew that the movie had a killer twist even if, prior to general release, no one had actually spilled the beans and, because of that, my neurodivergent brain started thinking about what that twist could possibly be as the story started unfolding. It was distracting, but 30 minutes in I thought I had it sussed. I then spent the next hour or so looking for clues that I was wrong.
I wasn’t wrong.
Every scene confirmed I wasn’t wrong despite me mentally screaming at Bruce Willis to do something that proved me wrong or, more correctly, for other people in the scene to prove me wrong. There’s an argument that I ruined the film for myself, but there’s a stronger argument that simply knowing that there was going to be a great twist at the end led me to that point. Like I said, it’s a minefield.
Of course, when promoting a movie the studio, distributor, director, or sometimes even the actors, are not going to underplay the fact that their movie has a unique selling point that’s going to get the audience in their seats and then talking about that movie to their friends. For The Sixth Sense, this was viral advertising before that became a big thing. Now though, studios have far greater reach and, with the rise of the influencer, seem more willing to give their product a helping hand, even when that marketing through social media channels seems hell-bent on revealing a movie’s secrets.
The Man Behind The Curtain
There are two main ways a studio or creators themselves can remove any element of surprise: the trailer(s); or active encouragement (or tacit acceptance) of social media posts. Trailers have always been an issue, but we seem to be seeing a rise in ‘anything goes’ on social media. Some of this may be engagement-farming on the part of individuals, but some may genuinely be the mistaken belief that this is actually supporting the film-maker. It doesn’t help when people like director Shawn Levy are boosting bootleg video recorded in the movie theatre (movie-going etiquette is a whole other can o’ worms I’m not even going to touch here).
Here, at least, the studio took down the illicit clip, though not, I would suggest, because it was worried about spoilers for those yet to see the movie (although spoiling parts of a movie may discourage people from paying out their hard-earned cash at a time when cinema is struggling).
At the very least, Levy’s actions show that clipping scenes in this way won’t always be condemned when maybe it should be and that might be seen as a film-maker condoning such antics. It’s easy to see where this could lead, with Twitter/X users posting the big twists and reveals, and even the endings of movies before many have had a chance to watch them, such as recently happened with the climax of Blink Twice.
[Author’s note: It doesn’t. Don’t do it]
Hitch Up The Trailer
But what about trailers? Studios and distributors have a long history of showing the best moments and key sequences in advance of release. The issue is perhaps worse with bigger movies with long lead times where an entire marketing schedule spreads out over a period of months. We get the announcement trailer, then the preview trailer, then the first official trailer, then the character reveal trailer…I could go on, but you get the idea. But there are conscious decisions based on feedback and focus groups and carefully considered strategies about whether such reveals will deter or encourage cinema goers. Oftentimes, the thrill of experiencing that moment on the biggest screen possible will be enough of a draw despite prior knowledge. Additionally, trailers lack context and the same scenes work better not in isolation but with a movie wrapped around them. There’s also not-a-little devious sleight-of-hand where the nature of a scene is implied but is completely different in the movie - think of this scene in the Civil War trailer which suggests extreme peril.
[Spoiler Alert: It’s not quite what you think, but to reveal too much runs the risk of ruining an important tension-builder, so I’m not going to]
Sometimes, too, those moments in the trailer may not emerge in the final cut. Though I now recognise this as an attempt to confuse a missile’s seeker than actually physically deflect the missile itself, it’s hard not to think of the legendary silver mirror/tea-tray scene in the first The Transporter trailer that was met with such howls of derision at the time that it was promptly cut from the movie. There’s a part of me that wishes it stayed in the picture.
We’ve even had actors not make the final cut, resulting in disappointment for movie-goers. So on the whole, trailers are a balance - not infallible when it comes to letting the cat out of the bag, but also somewhat more considered than simply blurting out the plot details. Yes, I feel they sometimes (often?) give too much away, but I can at least take some steps to avoid them.
Word Up
“Cameo” is defined as “a small theatrical role usually performed by a well-known actor and often limited to a single scene” and not just the band responsible for one of the greatest songs of the 80s. There’s been a fair bit of talk around this recently unsurprisingly, given the number of cameos present in Deadpool and Wolverine, involving Shawn Levy again (I promise this isn’t a vendetta) and fans of the movie. One of the areas of debate revolves around what is a true cameo and what is merely ‘uncredited supporting cast’. Initially, I wasn’t sure there was a huge difference between the two and suspected that these definitions were smoke and mirrors intended to justify spoiling the surprise. But thinking about the aforementioned Civil War, there’s a strong argument that Jesse Plemons’ inclusion does not represent a true cameo and is uncredited supporting cast. It makes no real difference if he’s credited or not. The character is incidental and could be played by anyone. There is no additional thrill for most film-goers in seeing him pop up onscreen playing that role, and no particular significance to the casting.
To me, that’s not the same as [unnamed famous/cult actor] appearing as [unnamed significant/cool character]. Even with so many of the cameos - or even all of them - in Deadpool and Wolverine known before many people had even seen the movie, I’m loathe to include actual names here, because there’s always a little frisson of excitement for me in response to a recognisable cameo and I would hate to ruin that for anyone, even if it’s just very 90s actress Bridget Fonda snuck in as a bit of cheeky blink and you’ll miss it recasting in Army Of Darkness.
Back when Kevin Costner was a big star, he appeared alongside lots of other famous actors including Alan Rickman and Morgan Freeman in the box office juggernaut that was Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves, as the titular main character. There’s a strong argument that, despite being the star, his Robin is completely overshadowed by Rickman’s deliciously theatrical Sheriff of Nottingham. Yet it’s also arguable that each man is outshone by a cameo for the ages at the film’s conclusion, an appearance that received actual applause and one of the best audience reactions I can ever remember at the time. If someone had ruined that moment for me…let’s just (politely) say, I would not have been best pleased. But that was before the internet and social media. Nowadays, no matter where you say it, you know that you’ll be heard, so the answer isn’t to tell all the boys and girls (or tell your brother, your sister and your mamma too…).
[Spoiler Alert]
Wait, can’t I just warn people that my social media posts contain spoilers? Isn’t it their choice to read on, watch that video, click that link? Once again, things are complicated. You can take this ‘buyer beware’ route, but this isn’t really the traditional principle of caveat emptor in that until you’ve seen the (potential) spoiler it’s not possible to know if it will reveal something you can live with knowing and not have your enjoyment of the movie ruined, or if it’s going see the cat running off into the distance leaving the bag far behind as the genie, now out of the bottle, gives chase.
Letterboxd.com does at least initially hide any review that has been marked as containing spoilers, requiring an active click-through, but that doesn’t resolve the fundamental problem, nor account for those users who don’t mark their reviews as containing spoilers when they clearly do. It’s true also that, for many people, particularly the ones who watch a lot of films, the Letterboxd review function is often used to remind them what they liked or didn’t like about a movie, offering a level of detail that is more prone to absent-minded spoilage. Let’s not forget too that any social media is driven by the recording of likes and engagement. Some, perhaps many, people will argue that’s not their focus, but there’s a whole psychology at play here, even if we don’t always recognise it at a conscious level. Hiding that review or comment behind a barrier isn’t going to bring either followers or approval.
The situation is worse on Twitter/X, where photos and videos can be added to posts and character limits exist for non-Premium subscribers. This means complete posts with active spoilers, often including images from the movie, will appear in your feed and that little [Spoiler Alert] at the top of the post isn’t going to do squat to stop you seeing them. If you’re desperate to avoid learning anything about a movie prior to seeing it, you can block certain keywords but, like many things on Twitter/X, it’s far from 100% effective even if you somehow manage to cover every conceivable combination of words and names. As we speak, my feed contains a post spoiling the mind-blowing bodyhorror reveal in Cronenberg’s thoroughly mad The Brood (1979), which I was at least fortunate enough to watch for the first time a couple of weeks ago.
It’s A [Mouse] Trap!
So, what’s the answer? I’m not sure there is one that could ever cover all eventualities. To me there are probably as many unwritten rules as there are in baseball but the principle is exactly the same. This is about good sportsmanship. It’s the same tacit agreement from the audience as not spoiling the ending of Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap, the longest-running stage production of all time. The irony, of course, is that the Wikipedia entry for The Mousetrap now reveals the murderer (so don’t read it if you want to enjoy the play). That unwritten contract between theatre and audience had lasted decades prior to that very public reveal, albeit that the audience is expressly asked for their cooperation at the end of each performance (and still are). If you’ve seen the very entertaining See How They Run (Tom George) 2022, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.
For me though, I don’t think a reminder or warning should be necessary. I don’t think length of time since release matters. Instead, I think it all boils down to one fundamental question:
How would you feel if someone had spoiled the ending, the twist, that cameo, before you had had a chance to see that movie you were really excited about seeing?
I think that, if you can answer this question honestly and apply your answer to your decision, rather than thinking about your next social media dopamine hit (I’m as guilty as anyone for seeking that high), we’ll see far fewer cases of movies being needlessly spoiled. It’s not about revealing nothing at all about a movie (where’s the fun in that?), but about exercising good judgement about the thing(s) that make that movie great, or terrible, or significantly define it in some way. Movies are a personal experience but also a collective one. They evoke great passion and emotion. It’s just about making the sharing of that passion a more positive experience for others.
At the end of the day, this is just one girl’s opinion. I like to think that I’ve captured the mood of the nation/twitterverse here, but this is such a hot-button topic right now, with a range of views. Maybe you think I’m expecting too much, or this problem is just one we have to live with. Perhaps you think there isn’t a real problem. Maybe it’s got so bad you’re blocking social media accounts or even considering leaving social media yourself. However this affects you (or doesn’t), I’d love to know what you think so feel free to reach out to me (links in bio below) and/or drop a message to the Movie Friends Podcast team.
