PG-13 Blockbusters and the Sugarcoating of Violence
Many of this summer’s action-filled blockbusters feature destruction and mayhem, in keeping with the trend of PG-13 movies becoming increasingly violent. But much of that violence is cartoonishly sterilized and bloodless to ensure the movies maintain a rating that can attract young ticket buyers. Some argue this shows how meaningless the rating system is, but others ask whether this “sugarcoating of violence” in PG-13 films makes for a more enjoyable movie-going experience. Is it irresponsible to portray conflict without its gory consequences?
* action-filled = 액션으로 가득 찬/ blockbuster = 블록버스터(크게 성공한 책이나 영화)/ destruction = 파괴, 파멸; 말살/ mayhem = 대혼란, 아수라장/ keep with ~ = ~을 따라가다/ violent = 폭력적인, 난폭한/ cartoonishly = 희화[만화]적으로/ sterilize = 살균[소독]하다/ bloodless = 무혈의/ ensure = 반드시 …하게[이게] 하다, 보장하다/ rating system = 등급제/ sugarcoat = <불쾌한 것을> 보기 좋게 꾸미다, 겉을 잘 꾸미다; <나쁜 소식을> 좋게 전하다/ make for ~ = ~에 도움이 되다; ~을 가능하게 하다; ~한 결과를 낳다/ portray = 묘사하다[그리다]; 나타내다[보여주다]/ gory = 유혈의; 유혈과 폭력이 난무하는/ consequence = 결과
(영화 속에서) 유혈의 결과 없이 갈등[충돌]을 묘사하는 것은 무책임 한가요?
1. The Risk to Children in Violent, PG-13 Blockbusters
Sure, adventures that are light on blood and guts may seem more palatable. But showing violence with minimized consequences might be damaging in a different way.
2. In Movies, Violence Can Be a Crutch for Weak Stories
I'd much rather the filmmakers and screenwriters work to tell the story creatively, instead of hitting the audience in the face with brutal imagery that forces them to be afraid or invested.
3. The Case for Stylized, Cartoonish PG-13 Violence
Those movies benefit from the upside of mayhem — an indispensable asset to storytelling — but without worrying audiences (or their parents).
4. Violence in Movies Reflects a Cultural Reality
We must acknowledge that shoot-em-up art reflects our times and history of violence.
Sample Essay
The Case for Stylized, Cartoonish PG-13 Violence
I’m squeamish about violent movies. I didn’t used to be. From 1969, when I saw “The Wild Bunch” to 1995, when “Braveheart” came out, I could certainly handle the gore. I bought the aesthetic case for the “poetry of violence,” and I thought that realistic blood and guts on screen transported me to a more authentic experience within the made-up worlds of movies.
But sometime around “Kill Bill" — 2003 — I began peeking at the screen through my fingers. Today, if I hear that the violence in a movie I want to see is intense, I won’t watch it in a theater: I rely on the fast-forward button to skip the gore so as to keep my emotions in check.
That’s why I welcome the stylized, cartoonish, pretend-pain PG-13 violence of the tent-pole computer-generated imagery pictures that have swallowed Hollywood. Some of their scenes don’t even truly count as faux violence, with animated characters hurtling toward each other more as bursting explosions of light and sound than destructive entities. Those movies benefit from the upside of mayhem — an indispensable asset to storytelling — but without worrying audiences (or their parents).
In his “Confessions,” St. Augustine tells of Alypius, who is dragged by his friends to the gladiatorial contests, and who covers his eyes to protect his spirit from being degraded by the carnage. But the screams of the bloodthirsty crowd pierce his soul and pique his curiosity: He unlocks his eyes and drinks in the madness of the mob, becoming one with them.
A couple of thousand years later, I’m not sure we’re so sophisticated that we can modulate and mitigate the consequences of violent spectacle to our psyches any more reliably than Alypius could. Entertainment has access to a primitive part of our brain. If, for the purpose of pleasure, I’m going to let myself be manipulated by an illusion, I want ground rules. If my cortex is going to be bathed by the same neurochemicals that real violence stimulates, I want an R rating to warn me how ineffectual I’ll be in distancing myself from it.
