Hollywood to me is not dead.
Sure, I don't like the recent 3D faggotry as much as the next guy and I don't approve of all the pulp-ish books getting adapted into these $100 million films that waste the talents of the young people involved - and I don't approve of people applying revisionist history upon movie making, claiming that movies like Forrest Gump and It's a Wonderful Life are really some of the most miserable ever made due to their happy endings and positive morals and because the characters seem a bit outdated as compared to Peter Warne (Clark Gable's reporter from It Happened One Night) and Jules Winnfield (Samuel Jackson's Christian hitman from Pulp Fiction). To me, the only honest filmmakers happen to be the ones either succeeding normally but gaining every positive review or the ones who are failing yet gaining the same reviews.
This has some eerie, but strangely predictable coincidences to the period of transitional Hollywood before the mass experimentation in the New Wave era (1967-1979) - that era, ranging from 1960 to 1966, had massive experimentation with a dying technology (3D), these useless widescreen epics that got lukewarm critical acceptance, and a lot of experimental films that virtually were ignored.
That's pretty much it. Oh, and we had the musical, thought that's more lively and original.
Adaptations galore, mostly not good.
If we need to continue the adaptation, let's adapt some good stuff, like Pynchon novels and furry comics - because at least totally alienating our audience will cause Hollywood to revive itself in a fit of catering to the new audience.
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