Recently I've been asked about several films and what I think about them.
That always makes me smile because it reminds me of a different chapter in my life.
Back in the early days of the internet, I maintained a movie review blog. I reviewed films, analyzed box office performance, tracked DVD sales, and spent an unhealthy amount of time trying to understand why some movies succeeded while others failed.
Eventually I built a box office prediction model that incorporated roughly a dozen factors. For genres I followed closely, the results were surprisingly accurate. For genres I didn't particularly care about, the model's performance could generously be described as "aspirational."
The important thing is that I learned something.
Movies are both art and business.
Many critics focus exclusively on the art.
Many studio executives focus exclusively on the business.
The reality is that success usually requires both.
That perspective colors how I look at movies even today.
So when people ask me what I think about a film, my answer is rarely just whether I liked it. I tend to think about audience expectations, marketing, release windows, competition, and how the film was constructed.
Three recent conversations illustrate exactly what I mean.
The Mandalorian and Grogu Problem
The first film people asked me about was The Mandalorian and Grogu.
The question was simple:
Why didn't it connect with audiences?
There are several answers.
First, there is a portion of the audience that feels personally burned by previous Lucasfilm projects. Whether those feelings are justified or not doesn't really matter. Some viewers have simply disengaged from the franchise and were never likely to buy a ticket.
Second, the economics of movie-going have changed.
Going to a theater today is expensive.
Most people own large televisions. Many have decent sound systems. Streaming services have conditioned audiences to wait.
A decade ago a theatrical release felt like an event.
Today many viewers simply ask:
"Will this be worth seeing now, or can I watch it on Disney+ in a few months?"
That question alone has changed the industry.
But I don't think either of those issues is the biggest problem.
The biggest issue is structural.
The Mandalorian is a television series.
Its strengths are television strengths.
The series thrives on character moments, episodic adventures, side stories, and gradual development. It gives characters time to breathe.
The movie felt like multiple episodes compressed into a little over two hours.
Some people I've talked to felt it was three episodes.
Others thought it felt like five.
My estimate is somewhere around four.
Regardless of the exact number, the effect is the same.
The connective tissue gets removed.
Character development gets compressed.
Background information disappears.
The quieter moments that make audiences care about characters are shortened or eliminated.
The result is a film that feels uneven.
Not because the individual scenes are bad, but because it was originally designed to function as serialized storytelling.
The irony is that the film's greatest weakness may be the very thing that made the television series successful.
The Odyssey: Billion-Dollar Success or Expensive Disappointment?
The second film people keep asking me about is Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey.
The first question is always:
"What do you think of it?"
The second question is usually:
"Will it make a billion dollars?"
Let's start with the movie itself.
As a history major who has read far too many books on the Bronze Age, I was put off by the trailers.
What I saw didn't feel much like the Bronze Age.
That doesn't automatically mean the movie will be bad.
Historical authenticity and cinematic storytelling are often different goals.
Still, my initial reaction was concern.
Hollywood has a long history of historical epics where the filmmakers decide they don't particularly like the appearance of the period they're depicting.
The result is often a movie that looks more like a modern interpretation of history than history itself.
When I watched the trailer, I didn't think "Homer."
I thought "Christopher Nolan's version of Homer."
That may prove to be a masterpiece.
It may prove to be a mistake.
We'll find out soon enough.
As for the box office, I think this is one of the easiest films to predict and one of the hardest films to predict simultaneously.
My take is simple.
There is no middle ground.
I don't see this film quietly making $950 million.
I don't see it barely crossing a billion.
Instead, I think we're looking at one of two outcomes.
Either it finishes in the $750-900 million range and is viewed as a disappointment relative to expectations.
Or it explodes into the $1.2-1.4 billion range and becomes one of the biggest hits of the decade.
Why?
Christopher Nolan.
After Oppenheimer, Nolan is one of the few directors whose name alone sells tickets.
The question isn't whether Nolan's fans will show up.
They already have.
What concerns me is that large-format screenings are selling well while standard screenings appear much softer.
That suggests the core Nolan audience has bought tickets.
The question is whether everyone else follows.
The film also has limited time to establish itself before Spider-Man: Brand New Day begins consuming screens and premium formats.
The opening weeks will determine everything.
The Collision Course: Avengers vs. Dune
The third conversation is actually two films.
Avengers: Doomsday and Dune 3.
Why discuss them together?
Because they are currently scheduled to release on the same day.
That alone makes this one of the most fascinating box office battles in years.
Even more interesting is how the studios appear to have divided the battlefield.
Warner Bros. has secured the IMAX screens for Dune 3.
Disney has secured virtually everything else for Avengers: Doomsday.
Both studios are playing to their strengths.
Warner Bros. is betting that audiences want to experience Dune in premium formats.
Disney is betting that Marvel wins through scale.
If both films remain on the same date, I think the opening weekend is relatively straightforward.
Avengers: Doomsday is likely looking at an opening north of $200 million domestically.
Possibly much higher.
Dune 3 probably lands in the $50-60 million range.
At first glance that looks like a blowout.
I don't think it is.
The two franchises behave differently.
Marvel films tend to be front-loaded.
They generate enormous opening weekends.
The Dune films rely more heavily on premium-format sales, critical reception, and audience word of mouth.
The real battle won't be opening weekend.
It will be the weeks that follow.
Can Dune 3 dominate premium formats long enough to build momentum?
Can Avengers: Doomsday reestablish Marvel as appointment viewing?
Both films have enormous stakes.
For Warner Bros., Dune 3 is prestige filmmaking with potential Oscar implications.
For Disney, Avengers: Doomsday may be the most important Marvel film since Endgame.
Neither studio wants to blink.
Yet history tells us studios are brave until the spreadsheets tell them not to be.
Would I be shocked if one moved?
Not at all.
Would I be surprised if both held their ground?
Not really.
There is simply too much at stake for either company.
Why I Still Enjoy Talking About Movies
The funny thing about these conversations is that they remind me why I enjoyed reviewing movies all those years ago.
The movies themselves are interesting.
The audience is fascinating.
The business can be downright unpredictable.
Most people ask whether a movie will be good.
I find myself asking different questions.
Who is the audience?
What are they expecting?
What experience are they paying for?
And perhaps most importantly:
Does the movie understand what its audience wants?
Because more often than not, that answer determines the box office long before the first ticket is sold.
