How Men in Black subverted blockbuster tropes to… | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

How Men in Black sub­vert­ed block­buster tropes to become box office gold

01 Aug 2022

Words by Callie Petch

Two men in suits and sunglasses, looking serious.
Two men in suits and sunglasses, looking serious.
Twen­ty-five years ago Bar­ry Son­nen­feld’s work­place action-com­e­dy broke the rules and launched an icon­ic franchise.

On paper, and espe­cial­ly in hind­sight, 1997’s Men in Black reads as slam-dunk a block­buster pitch as a lucky stu­dio exec could ever hope to get. Two proven big-name stars rid­ing then-career highs: Tom­my Lee Jones, fresh off of Bat­man For­ev­er, and Will Smith, who had just toplined the biggest film of 1996 Inde­pen­dence Day. A high­ly-suc­cess­ful direc­tor in Bar­ry Son­nen­feld who made two hits out of The Addams Fam­i­ly and received crit­i­cal bona fides for Get Shorty.

An eas­i­ly-mar­ketable premise, secret gov­ern­ment alien police/​immigration force, hit­ting at the moment where the alien con­spir­a­cy craze was crest­ing in peak pop­u­lar­i­ty (part­ly thanks to The X‑Files). Ground­break­ing spe­cial effects and make-up work led by indus­try leg­end Rick Bak­er. A cer­ti­fied bop of a theme song to dom­i­nate the pop charts. Nowa­days, you could even lean on the source material’s com­ic book ori­gins as (tech­ni­cal­ly) a Mar­vel property.

In prac­tice, though, Men in Black doesn’t func­tion like one would expect a typ­i­cal Hol­ly­wood block­buster to, even when tak­ing the oth­er major hits of 1997 into account. Sonnenfeld’s film takes that high-con­cept premise – one ripe with poten­tial for spec­ta­cle and won­der and out­sized action – and delib­er­ate­ly goes for a dead­pan, almost mun­dane approach to the mate­r­i­al. Men in Black belongs to the lin­eage of the orig­i­nal Ghost­busters, a block­buster com­mit­ted more towards ful­ly explor­ing an idea rather than tra­di­tion­al pulse-pound­ing excite­ment. And, just like Ghost­busters, that low­er-key approach is in ser­vice of the movie’s cen­tral joke: demon­strat­ing how utter­ly hum­drum deal­ing with the oth­er­world­ly can be when it’s your 9‑to‑5 job.

Most obvi­ous­ly, this dichoto­my plays out via the bud­dy-cop dynam­ic of Jones’ and Smith’s Agents K and J. J is the fresh-faced street-smart recruit thrown for a loop regard­ing this strange new world he’s been thrust into (accord­ing­ly the audi­ence POV), while his part­ner K is the jad­ed seen-it-all vet­er­an for whom pre­cious lit­tle fazes.

Nei­ther man is pre­sent­ed as a unique­ly bril­liant vir­tu­ous hero with pri­or per­son­al con­nec­tions to the super­nat­ur­al goings on, des­tined to become an MIB agent. K effec­tive­ly lucked into the gig by being in the wrong place at the wrong time decades pri­or. J, mean­while, is an eager NYPD offi­cer scout­ed for his above-aver­age phys­i­cal prowess and slight­ly unortho­dox approach to prob­lem solv­ing – traits which are com­mon in most high-lev­el law-enforce­ment jobs.

As play­ful as Sonnenfeld’s direc­tion may be, that strip­ping of the glam­our and thrill in deal­ing with aliens both pas­sive and threat­en­ing is as core to Men in Black’s iden­ti­ty as the city of pre-gen­tri­fi­ca­tion New York (anoth­er cin­e­mat­ic lin­eage that the movie slots into). You can see that ethos reflect­ed in the pro­duc­tion and set design. Sequences are set in scuzzy pawn shops, on grungy street cor­ners with shifty shop ven­dors, and in dim­ly-lit morgues, whilst the MIB offices resem­ble air­port secu­ri­ty sta­tions with their reg­i­ment­ed open-plan desk lay­outs and unas­sum­ing ster­ile colour scheme.

Illuminated globe sculpture at night with silhouetted figures in the foreground.

Rather than engage in pitched gun fights with loads of chaot­ic destruc­tion, much of the inves­ti­ga­tion to trail Edgar the Bug fre­quent­ly involves J and K mere­ly talk­ing to the aliens-of-inter­est since, as K points out ear­ly on, most resid­ing on Earth just want to live a peace­ful exis­tence with­out mak­ing trou­ble. After all, not every day as a gov­ern­ment agent involves life-or-death strug­gles with a ter­ror­ist or shak­ing down perps for street gos­sip. Some days, you just got­ta help somebody’s wife deliv­er their baby in the back­seat of a car… even if said baby is an unin­hib­it­ed squid-being with pow­er­ful tentacles.

Speak­ing of Edgar – the film’s pri­ma­ry antag­o­nist – it’s ran­dom ter­ror­ist with no major com­plex motives or pri­or con­nec­tion to our pro­tag­o­nists. Just a bug that lit­er­al­ly feeds on caus­ing chaos and the destruc­tion of oth­er species it con­sid­ers low­er. Not a grand genius, in fact it’s almost com­i­cal­ly inept a lot of the time – some­thing enhanced by Vin­cent D’Onofrio’s con­tort­ing phys­i­cal per­for­mance – and prone to impul­sive acts of vio­lence. Accord­ing­ly, nobody but Agent J ever ends up more than mild­ly con­cerned about the threat this bug pro­vides even when an alien race is pre­pared to vapor­ise the entire plan­et in response, an act which the Men in Black are so blasé about that they have a lit­er­al count­down timer ready to go.

The stakes are so per­func­to­ry because, as K ear­li­er notes, world’s always under threat from some­thing, kid.” At a cer­tain point, and after so many foil­ings of such threats, it just becomes the dai­ly grind. You don’t hear about the hun­dreds of times a ter­ror attack almost hap­pened. K’s unflap­pable world-weari­ness dri­ves home that cen­tral joke which under­pins all of these cre­ative deci­sions: a 9‑to‑5 job under cap­i­tal­ism will even­tu­al­ly suck the won­der out of every­thing, no mat­ter how extra­or­di­nary it may all seem when first start­ing out.

You’ll go from mar­veling at the majesty of the stars to not blink­ing twice when an alien’s head regrows after being blast­ed clean off its shoul­ders. As Ghost­busters took the glam­our out of inter­act­ing with the super­nat­ur­al when viewed through the lens of blue-col­lar pest con­trol work, Men in Black man­ages the same for aliens when work­ing with­in the gov­ern­ment bureau­cra­cy. It’s foun­da­tion­al to the film’s dead­pan com­ic tone and unique charm.

It’s also anti­thet­i­cal to how Hol­ly­wood usu­al­ly envi­sions their block­busters – full of won­der, spec­ta­cle, ever-increas­ing stakes, per­son­al con­nec­tions and high dra­ma. As with Ghost­busters, near­ly every attempt since the orig­i­nal Men in Black to return to the fran­chise has failed spec­tac­u­lar­ly because the stu­dio and cre­atives in charge keep for­get­ting the cen­tral joke. The sec­ond you start treat­ing Men in Black like a con­ven­tion­al block­buster, you’ve got the foun­da­tions crit­i­cal­ly wrong. Men in Black II opens on a wild­ly destruc­tive sub­way chase big­ger in scale than any­thing seen in the orig­i­nal; 3 ret­conned K and J’s first encounter to K being acci­den­tal­ly respon­si­ble for the death of J’s father as a kid; Inter­na­tion­al (very bad­ly) tried to syn­the­sise a Marvel/​Bond hybrid and end­ed with a fash­ion­able-at-the-time sky beam of death.

More than all bar 3 being ter­ri­ble films, they all miss the joke which under­pinned the orig­i­nal and gave it its char­ac­ter. Try­ing to craft an approach any fur­ther vis­its to the Men in Black uni­verse like a con­ven­tion­al block­buster is a fol­ly because the con­cept as so mem­o­rably pre­sent­ed in 1997 is inher­ent­ly unfit to sup­port it. In the mean­time, the orig­i­nal Men in Black remains such a fun achieve­ment in block­buster film­mak­ing a quar­ter-cen­tu­ry on, large­ly by being so anti­thet­i­cal to the con­ven­tion­al block­buster format.

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