J.J. ABRAMS: IS THE "MYSTERY BOX" CRITICISM JUSTIFIED?

***Important note: I wrote the following piece on Abrams before I saw STAR WARS EPISODE IX: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER. I am no conspiracy theorist, but now that I've seen the film I have to say it reeks of studio meddling. To me the whole film looked and felt as impersonal as a 2.5h trailer that was hastily stitched together without a clear vision or concept. Until there's more information about what happened to that movie, I'll continue to ignore it for the purpose of this here piece.***

When it comes to high-concept genre TV shows and big budget genre films released over the past two decades, the name of one director/producer/writer immediately stands out due to the sheer number of projects he was (and still is) involved in: Jeffrey Jacob Abrams.

There is arguably no other person in film/TV who has been as prolific in terms of launching genre projects since we entered the new millennium:

From ALIAS to LOST to FRINGE; from his work as producer on shows like PERSON OF INTEREST, WESTWORLD or 11.22.63; from directing MISSION IMPOSSIBLE III, STAR TREK '09, STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS and STAR WARS EPISODE VII: THE FORCE AWAKENS and basically rebooting those franchises; from realizing his own passion project SUPER 8 with Steven Spielberg to producing genre movies such as CLOVERFIELD, 10 CLOVERFIELD LANE or OVERLORD via his company Bad Robot while continuing to produce all the new MISSION IMPOSSIBLE films and STAR TREK BEYOND - plus nearly two dozen other projects (plus half a dozen more in development) - the man's contribution to the world of high-concept genre filmmaking for mainstream audiences can hardly be overstated.

• AUDIENCE AND CRITICAL RECEPTION VS INTERNET FANDOM

Almost all of Abrams' TV shows had great audience ratings and were very well received by critics, but for the purpose of this piece I'll only concentrate on his work in feature films (with the exception of one particular TV-show - but we'll get to that later).

If we accept the ratings and reviews by professional film critics as well as audience ratings collected by the likes of IMDb, Rottentomatoes, Cinemascore and Metacritic as the common standard by which we are able to determine how well regarded the quality of a filmmaker's work generally is, it's impossible to deny that Abrams has to count among the most popular and most critically well regarded mainstream filmmakers of the past 20 years.

His two Star Trek films are the highest (STAR TREK '09) and second highest (STAR TREK:INTO DARKNESS) rated entries of the entire franchise on both Metacritic, IMDb as well as among the top critics on Rottentomatoes, and except for STAR TREK IV: THE VOYAGE HOME, all other installments of the franchise had lower Cinemascores (Abrams' films both received an A, while STAR TREK IV got an A+).

His first Star Wars film - despite facing the biggest expectations any new entry in any franchise probably ever had to fulfill - is among the highest critically rated mainstream blockbusters on Rottentomatoes for the year 2015 and the third highest of the franchise among top critics (only behind STAR WARS and THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK).

And these films are obviously no flukes: With the exception of MISSION IMPOSSIBLE III which got a slightly mixed (but by no means bad) critical response, all of Abrams' efforts as a director were either well or very well received critically, and even among the many more films he just wrote and/or produced there were only 2(!) that were badly reviewed since the lackluster (but financially successful) ARMAGEDDON over 20 years ago; those were THE CLOVERFIELD PARADOX and MORNING GLORY, both of which were not written by him.

And yet, despite being responsible for overwhelmingly well-loved and critically well-received films and TV shows, one visit to the comment section of any given film site is enough to create the Impression J.J. Abrams was at worst a talent-less hack or at best a hugely controversial figure among genre nerds.

So why is that? In order to get to the bottom of that question, we have to start by taking a quick look at the first actual TV phenomenon of the 21st Century.

• LOST

To say that the impact LOST had on broadcast TV when its pilot aired in 2004 was huge would be an understatement; the show - which Abrams co-created and co-produced - was insanely successful right from the start, and it quickly became part of the zeitgeist in a way that probably hadn't happened for a genre series since the first season of TWIN PEAKS aired in 1990.

The smash hit teased its devoted and rapidly growing audience with increasingly complex mysteries and storylines over its six-season run, but when it ended in 2010 seemingly without resolving all of them, a significant chunk of the audience cried bloody murder and blamed their frustrations on Abrams.

It didn't matter that Abrams actually had very little to do with the creative direction of the show beyond directing and co-writing its pilot episode and that the show-runners and main creative forces behind LOST were in fact Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse.

It also didn't matter that LOST - despite having huge problems due to a writer's strike, actors who either had to be (or wanted to be) written out of it and a network that wanted it to go on forever - actually DID answer the most prominent questions (and Lindelof insists they never just "made stuff up" without knowing the answers during the show - even if they didn't always resolve every mystery in detail for the audience when they felt ambiguity worked better for the story) - it's just that many fans either didn't understand those answers or they simply didn't like them.

But that's another thing about modern fandom and its need for instant gratification in the age of the internet: rather than people accepting certain issues as a matter of different tastes or questioning themselves first when the meaning of a piece of art/entertainment doesn't immediately reveal itself to them, the first reaction almost by default seems to be to run to a comment forum on the internet. There the "fans" proclaim in no uncertain terms how the creator of said piece of entertainment is either a talent-less hack who made "bad art" or that the artist didn't understand his/her own works or was too dumb to properly explain it to their much smarter audience.

Anyway, "the internet" had found its culprit in Abrams, but one of the main reasons angry fans were so convinced HE was the one to blame was actually a now infamous - and still mostly misunderstood - metaphor the filmmaker once used and henceforth would forever be associated with.

• THE "MYSTERY BOX"

A couple of years prior to the ending of LOST, at the height of the show's popularity, Abrams was invited to do a TED talk. He used the occasion to talk about the LOST pilot and also to explain to his listeners what aspects of storytelling he feels drawn to, and he talked about the important function of mysteries as catalysts for the imagination, especially in the kind of genre filmmaking that appeals to him.

In that context Abrams talked about the importance of leaving certain things to the viewer's imagination instead of showing them - because he believes that the audience' own projection renders them more powerful than depicting them in detail ever could. He went on to specifically cite examples of films that inspired him in that regard like JAWS and ALIEN which he feels are so much more suspenseful and scary precisely due to the fact that the actual creatures are NOT on screen for most of the time: because they're constantly there in the audiences' mind.

But he also referred to other deliberate choices by a filmmaker/storyteller to sometimes withhold certain information from the audience in order to create a specific atmosphere or mood, like in the date scene in THE GRADUATE where the audience only sees the couple talking in the car without being able to hear them - which to Abrams makes the scene much more interesting and even more romantic. All of this sounds like pretty normal stuff for a director and avid film fan to talk about, right? So why did that TED talk later spark so much snark and ridicule? Well, in order to illustrate to his TED audience how much he valued ambiguity, mystery and the infinite potential of the unknown ever since he had been a little boy, Abrams showed them a box he had bought as a kid in a magic shop; a "mystery magic box" that he had never opened. And by using that box as A METAPHOR IN A SPECIFIC CONTEXT, he had just committed the worst mistake any public figure can make in our age: he had forgotten how the internet works.

Naturally, when LOST ended and not all the show's secrets and mysteries were resolved to each and every viewer's complete satisfaction, angry fans in comment sections of film/TV sites all over the internet were quick to point to Abrams' "mystery box" which he refused to open. Thus the metaphor was soon injected with a new meaning: now it stood for "making up mysteries for mysteries' sake to tease/trick the audience - without caring or even knowing about the resolution."

Obviously, that was never what the metaphor stood for, but after the divisive ending of LOST, every time Abrams produced, wrote or directed anything that either didn’t fully work, viewers didn’t immediately get or simply didn't like, enraged internet bloggers and commenters blamed it on the infamous "mystery box" (which by now had miraculously turned from a metaphor that Abrams used to entertain an audience to his ENTIRE CONCEPT OF FILMMAKING and even to his alleged OBSESSION).

Which isn't just unfair, it's simply wrong, and from the context it's being constantly brought up in by lazy writers and angry commenters on nerdy film sites, it's obvious 99.9% of them have never bothered to actually watch the TED talk where Abrams coined that term and just parrot the words without having the slightest clue in what context they were originally applied by the filmmaker.

Because once you DO watch it, it's hard to see how any film fan would take issue with anything Abrams talked about. To give you some more examples: the filmmaker also used the "mystery box" as a metaphor for underlying (or "hidden") themes in films and named examples where not everything the film is actually about is visible on the surface at first glance. He cited Spielberg's E.T. as an example for such a film which on the surface seems to be about a boy who befriends an alien, but is actually a very personal story "about divorce and this heartbroken, crippled divorce-family and this kid who can't find his way".

He then went on to explain that the "mystery box" is also a metaphor for the power of the unexpected in general and how effective and important that is in the kind of storytelling that appeals to him. And he didn't mean "unexpected" in the sense of jump scares, but cited the nuanced character moments in DIE HARD as examples, where you learn a lot about the person John McClane and his strained relationship with his wife - which are not the kind of scenes people expect in an action movie. Or the tender, quiet moments between Chief Brody and his kid at the dinner table in JAWS, which are not the kind of scenes people expect in a horror film.

In short, Abrams used the metaphor of the "mystery box" to talk about a wide range of topics which encompass pretty much everything he (and arguably most film fans) love about movies and movie-making.

• THE KHAN CONTROVERSY

In 2013 the internet erupted again with rage against the filmmaker; this time because of his sci-fi film STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS. To give some context: When Abrams rebooted the Star Trek franchise in 2009, genre fans still considered him to be one of their own; a nerd's nerd and geeky wunderkind that could basically do no wrong (almost like Peter Jackson pre the HOBBIT Trilogy or Sam Raimi pre SPIDER-MAN 3 or Joss Whedon pre AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON or Benioff & Weiss pre GAME OF THRONES Season 8, or George Lucas pre SW Prequel Trilogy), and even hardcore Trekkies mostly embraced Abrams' STAR TREK '09.

But by the time his sequel STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS came out in 2013, the controversial finale of LOST had already aired, and therefore the internet's love affair with the filmmaker had become - at best - tainted. The two-word answer to what caused this new burst of outrage against Abrams and his Star Trek sequel: Benedict Cumberbatch.

The slightly longer explanation: When news of Cumberbatch's casting in STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS was announced, rumors quickly spread all across the internet that he would play Khan, a fan favorite villain from the second film in the original franchise, STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN (1982). And from the secrecy surrounding the part the actor was supposed to play, it was pretty clear to every Star Trek fan that the rumor just had to be true (spoiler alert: it was).

However, Khan being in the film was supposed to be an interesting twist, and it was also set up as a thrilling reveal and fun nod to hardcore Trekkies, and Abrams was hell-bent on preserving that secret and not spoiling the film for the fans. The filmmaker had stated many times throughout his career how crucial he thinks it is for an audience not to know important plot points prior to watching a movie in order to get the most thrilling film-going experience possible, and so he stuck to his guns.

But to be fair, here it wasn't just his refusal to open the "mystery box": it was also the studio's pressure not to use Khan for the marketing of their film. Paramount - which had taken a huge gamble in the hopes of turning the Star Trek IP away from its status as somewhat nerdy niche property and into a blockbuster franchise (INTO DARKNESS alone had a production budget of nearly 200 million dollars before P&A) - was worried the hype around a character that meant nothing to anyone not intimately familiar with the franchise would turn away that mainstream audience it so desperately desired.

So when confronted with the Khan rumor, the studio, Abrams and the actor himself all went in full denial mode: they insisted the character Cumberbatch was going to play was a dude named John Harrison (which, technically, was correct, since the character does indeed use that name as an alias during parts of the film). But naturally, as soon as the film premiered and the truth was revealed, Trekkies felt betrayed and the full brunt of the internet's wrath hit Abrams once more.

It didn't matter that the film got very good reviews by critics and worked perfectly well with mainstream audiences (it got an A Cinemascore; it has a 7.7/10 IMDb rating - which is the second highest rating of the entire franchise behind only STAR TREK '09 and a tie with STAR TREK II; it is the second highest rated entry in the franchise according to both Rottentomatoes' Top Critics and Metacritic again behind only Abrams' own STAR TREK '09 - and, last but not least, it was the most financially successful Star Trek film of all time). As far as the internet's very vocal nerd-fandom was concerned, it was (and still is) the nadir of the franchise and one of the worst films ever made, period.

• "NOSTALGIA PORN"

Another frequent criticism Abrams has to endure from self-proclaimed film experts who post in the comment sections of nerdy film sites is the claim that his films rely almost entirely on nostalgia (in addition to the "mystery boxes", it goes without saying). Interestingly, that particular criticism only started with his 2011 film SUPER 8; a film that was conceived by Abrams and Steven Spielberg as a very personal story partly inspired by their own youth growing up making Super 8 films with their friends. To provide some more context about the film: A large part of Abrams' childhood growing up as a geeky film fan were the movies of that era, particularly those Steven Spielberg directed or produced via his company Amblin (E.T., GREMLINS, THE GOONIES etc.), but Abrams eventually even came to have a much more personal connection with the director that was tied to the Super 8 format.

In the early eighties, Kathleen Kennedy (Spielberg's then assistant), read a newspaper article about two talented youths named J.J. Abrams and Matt Reeves who had presented their Super 8 films during a festival celebrating the format at the Nu Art Theatre, and so she contacted the two and asked them if they would be interested in helping to restore the old Super 8 films Spielberg had made when he was their age. Naturally, the two teenagers jumped at the opportunity, and Spielberg later became a friend of Abrams.

Years later, when Abrams thought of doing a film about kids making Super 8 films, their shared history and mutual love for that particular format prompted him to pitch the idea to Spielberg, in the hopes he would be interested in developing the story with him and produce the film. Spielberg immediately agreed, and he was also the one who suggested that it should be an Amblin movie, which ironically made everything come full circle for Abrams.

SUPER 8 was a critical and commercial success, but it was not without its detractors. Especially one internet reviewer, the then editor-in-chief of a very popular and also rather influential film-site who had a large online following, came hard after Abrams for mostly just "aping Spielberg", and he even went so low as stating the film only worked as cheap "nostalgia porn", which quickly became a meme.

It didn't matter that in connection with THIS particular film, this was a criticism that was frankly hilarious, given that the film it accused of trying too hard to emulate that Spielberg tone WAS in fact a film Spielberg had produced. SUPER 8 ended up being a close collaboration between the two directors, and so Spielberg's fingerprints are naturally all over the film (as they are with all Amblin films, from BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED to GOONIES to POLTERGEIST), but no one can refute the fact that it tells an original story, which totally functions as such regardless whether one has ever seen another Spielberg or 80s Amblin movie before.

And while that original story is absolutely inspired by a certain period in Abrams' life and by HIS nostalgia for that time and for the movies and stories HE grew up with, it's kind of hard to argue that such is not the case with many works by most storytellers. But context and nuance are decidedly anathema to how contemporary internet fandom works; the "nostalgia porn" meme stuck, and thus there was a new abrasive term angry bloggers could gleefully label the director with henceforth.

Naturally, when the Khan controversy hit in 2013, that too was blamed on Abrams' obsession and total and utter reliance on nostalgia (in addition to his obsession with the "mystery box", of course). And when his film STAR WARS EPISODE VII: THE FORCE AWAKENS came out and used an almost identical structure and many similar story beats as the first Star Wars film from 1977 - because Disney wanted a soft reboot of the franchise - it didn't matter that Abrams had made a film audiences all over the world loved and critics celebrated (and thus achieved the impossible considering the uniquely iconic status of the franchise); it didn't matter that he had successfully rekindled the love of Star Wars for an entire new generation and created new, instantly likable characters and an intriguing new villain.

As far as internet fandom was concerned, all that mattered was that this was another prime example of "mystery boxes" and "nostalgia porn" and as such fully deserving of their eternal hatred.

• "BANDWAGON CRITICISM"

Full disclosure: I mainly felt compelled to write this piece out of frustration over - but also fascination for -  this phenomenon where relatively small groups of like-minded and very, very angry internet bloggers and commenters band together and become so loud in their constant repetition of a certain criticism/accusation ("mystery box", "nostalgia porn") against an artist who created something they didn't like, that they eventually manage to distort the general public's perception of the art to the point where it can even have real consequences for the artist (and, subsequently, also the art): it's like the nerd version of bullying and actually comes close to mobbing.

And while I do like Abrams' films, the main reason I chose to make this piece about him is that he's such a perfect example for how irrational and hype-based internet fandom is. Because let me repeat: If we accept reviews by professional critics and audience ratings in addition to box office performance as the common standards by which we are able to determine how well regarded a filmmaker's work generally is, then there's absolutely no doubt about the consensus being that Abrams is among the most critically and financially successful mainstream filmmakers of his generation.

It's only a very small - yet very vocal - fraction of the aforementioned internet bloggers and commenters that tries very hard to create the opposite impression via negative hype. But sadly, when something is constantly repeated, regardless whether it's true or just a minority opinion, uninformed people start believing it is somehow the general consensus or even a fact.

• PROS AND CONS OF THE NOSTALGIA FACTOR

I'm far from thinking J.J. Abrams' films are perfect, and I believe it's totally fair to criticize them for any number of reasons (for example, I personally felt SUPER 8 suffered from a rushed third act and an underdeveloped subplot about a family tragedy). Also, Abrams' feature filmography as a director IS very odd, given that 5 out of the 6 films he's made so far are entries in already existing franchises (and what's even more peculiar: all of the director's first entries in existing franchises function as sequels AND reboots at the same time).

But this weird - and constantly repeated - allegation that Abrams' films ONLY work because of guided projection and nostalgia I have a hard time accepting as a "legit" criticism (insofar as there even are such things as "legit" or "non-legit" criticisms when it comes to judging art or art-products made for mass-entertainment).

I mean, when you actually think about it, the notion of a film only working because of the nostalgia factor is not only condescending (bordering on insulting) towards critics and audiences who appreciate those movies for reasons that are as varied and complex as they themselves are as individuals, it's frankly ridiculous: how can you tell those films WOULDN'T work without the nostalgia factor?

It's like saying "Yeah, I know critics and audiences loved it, but they're just not intelligent enough to realize it's bad; I on the other hand am smart enough to recognize it only worked because it had that thing in it that made everyone remember something they once liked - but without that thing, everybody would realize it's actually bad." It's a kind of criticism that in my mind is both lazy and not valid, because you can throw it at every film that references influences from the past or is in a past setting or based on a property that was popular in the past and so on, and it's impossible to either prove it or disprove it.

Funny enough though, you COULD make a point to the contrary. Because it seems to me that people who didn't grow up with Star Wars and Star Trek and are not the least bit nostalgic about those properties mostly like the new films, whereas many fans who DID grow up with them and ARE nostalgic seem to be the most vocal critics of Abrams' entries in those franchises or even downright hate them.

That's not to say that nostalgia ISN'T a factor that contributes to how certain films are received, it most certainly is, but the same argument could be made for any new entry in any long standing - and iconic - franchise (like James Bond or Alien), or actually any film based on a beloved property audiences grew up with. But unless a filmmaker is able to realize a story and characters which audiences find compelling to watch - whether it's in a Star Wars, Star Trek, James Bond or Alien or Spider-Man setting - those films WILL flop, critically as well as commercially.

And there's another important aspect that is hardly ever addressed when it comes to the popular discussion in film blogs and comment sections of nerdy film sites about how evil Hollywood moguls prey on our nostalgia for their profit; what rarely gets mentioned - particularly in connection with Abrams' Star Trek and Star Wars movies is this: the nostalgia factor might get you increased attention and a certain demand or even craving for your film (particularly in the case of Star Wars) - but it also gets you increased SCRUTINY.

Which means it's an even harder task to make a successful entry in a long-standing franchise than to just do your movie, because it's not enough to make a film that works in its own right; it also has to work as an installment of the franchise and be consistent with a certain tone, lore and many other tropes fans (and studios) demand that are specific to the property.

• DO FANS REALLY WANT TO SEE NEW ELEMENTS IN LONG STANDING FRANCHISES?

The criticism of Abrams' alleged over-reliance on fans' nostalgia usually goes hand in hand with the claim that he didn't bring anything new to table and was just re-hashing "the greatest hits" of the franchises he dabbled in. And never was this criticism voiced more sharply than against his film STAR WARS EPISODE VII: THE FORCE AWAKENS.

Ironically, once you take a closer look at how fans received the sequel to Abrams' film, STAR WARS EPISODE VIII: THE LAST JEDI, you can sum up fans' insistence on wanting something new like this:

• FANS (after THE FORCE AWAKENS): "We demand something that's truly new!"
• *A new director steps in and does something new*
• FANS: "No, you changed the things we liked: we want something OTHER new!"

In all fairness, THE FORCE AWAKENS did indeed deliberately use much of the same structure and many story beats as the original STAR WARS, and Abrams himself said as much. But once you're able to look beyond that familiar structure and certain tropes, you'll notice a whole bunch of ideas that, while perhaps not groundbreaking, are far from being lazy repetitions of familiar Star Wars tropes.

For instance:

You get a film about a slave soldier refusing to participate in a massacre and fleeing from his masters, and you get to see him enjoy freedom and friendship for the first time. You get to see a story about a stormtrooper turning from someone who refuses to fight for something he hates into someone who chooses to fight for something he loves.

You get a film about an abandoned girl desperately waiting for the return of her parents and afraid to trade the dire circumstances she lives in for the unknown, and you get to follow her as she's thrown into the world to eventually find a surrogate family.

You witness a lovable stray's struggle against her fate, her terror and confusion about a powerful force that is awakening in her, and you get to see her grow into her own and learning to embrace - and use - that mythical power.

You get a compelling story about a murderous teenager with a tormented soul, whose villainy is fueled by his adolescent rage and his toxic obsession with legacy; you get to see the tragic tale of a lost boy who believes love is a weakness and that by killing those he loves - and who love him in turn - he will be able to stop loving them.

You also get to see a - ultimately heartbreaking - story about estranged parents who desperately try to save their child's soul (spoiler alert: they fail).

And you get to see all those stories - which are beautifully told and beautifully acted by a fantastic cast - in a gorgeous looking sci-fi setting with tons of amazing looking effects and a breathtaking production design. And they're all stories you haven't seen like this before in a Star Wars film.

And there were other things that felt fresh to me: When I watched EPISODE VII, I also saw a film that dared to kill off its perhaps most beloved character. In terms of casting it was also the first time a woman, a black man and a Latino were the protagonists in a Star Wars film.

And the film also introduced the concept of an "awakening" of the Force in a person; which isn't just a fresh element that Abrams introduced - it also felt organic to Star Wars, because it is very much in keeping with certain aspects of the old Eastern philosophies and religions (like Hinduism and Buddhism) that inspired George Lucas' ideas about the Force to begin with.

And yet it was precisely those fresh elements that sparked particularly vicious nerd rage against the film: ironically, the "true" fans - who were so enraged by Abrams rehashing familiar tropes - were VERY vocal about their preference of watching yet another young Jedi (preferably a male one) going through yet another Jedi training instead of seeing something new (especially a "Mary Sue" ;-).

And sure enough, some of those very same "true" fans don't seem to have the least problem with dozens of superhero movies repeating the same story structures and tropes over and over again. And I actually agree with them. What's to gain by picking those films apart and complaining about how yet another dude has to use his secret superpowers in order to save the world from yet another evil alien villain? Instead of reducing those film to the (almost always) slightly repetitive plots, I use the same approach I take to Star Wars: I accept those as the given structures wherein the actual stories function, and what makes those stories work is that they are about CHARACTERS.

• THE UNDERAPPRECIATED CHARACTER WORK IN ABRAMS' FILMS

The main reason I was not the least bit fussed about EPISODE VII repeating the structure and many tropes from the original STAR WARS was precisely this: the character work. I found myself instantly taken with Poe, Finn and Rey; they were likable and fun to watch - the film's tragic villain Kylo Ren I even found compelling - and I was fully invested in their stories within minutes of the movie.

And that's actually true for every film by Abrams I've seen so far: he has a huge talent for creating genuinely likable characters and great character dynamics. Take Abrams' Star Trek films for example: those movies work because the characters are so well written, and you instantly like them even if you've never seen another Star Trek film before in your life.

I'd even go so far as to claim that at their core, both Trek films by Abrams are first and foremost love stories. They're about the evolving love/friendship between Kirk and Spock, and while I find the action thrilling and the plot compelling enough in both films - and they're absolutely beautifully designed - the films work because of the authentic characters; it's the way how all characters interact with each other that feels heart-felt and genuine, and that's what makes the films exiting.

And that IS Abrams' trademark throughout all his work on television as well; whether it's FELICITY or ALIAS or LOST or FRINGE: everything he's involved in is first and foremost about characters and their relationships, albeit in a beautifully designed genre setting. It's something his films and TV-shows have in common with Stephen King's novels (and also with Spielberg's early movies) the plot is secondary to the character work. It's one of the most important truths in storytelling: if you create lovable/intriguing characters, the audience will in most cases follow them happily no matter how over-the-top or even down-right ridiculous the plot is.

As far as I'm concerned, Abrams is one of very few directors who make 200 million blockbusters for mainstream audiences where I actually care about the characters. The humor in his movies is situational, and not every scene ends in a funny one-liner that feels like it's mandated by a certain formula. This may be only my personal opinion, but I think the filmmaker doesn't get enough credit for the excellent character work in his films.

• IN CONCLUSION

Contrary to the impression internet fandom creates about him, J.J. Abrams is one of the most talented and most successful mainstream filmmakers of his generation.

There are many reasons why critics, audiences and film fans generally like his movies:

In addition to the great character work, his films look gorgeous (also his TV projects have a very cinematic aesthetic and did so even before we entered this new Golden Age of TV).

His films are made with attention to every little detail, and even the special effects have a tangibility that's in most cases missing from other films of similar scale these days, and there's never the green screen/video game aesthetic that plagues so many modern blockbusters.

Regardless of the budget and without losing sight of the spectacle (which in Abrams' films is actually memorable and never seems as numbing and repetitive as it has become in so many of those mega blockbusters about men and women in capes), he makes actual movies about actual humans and human stories - whereas with many (though not all) modern blockbusters, especially those of the superhero kind, the characters and and the dialogue tend to veer a bit too much towards the artificial (not to mention that the humor, the look, the effects and even the music often seem derived from the same formula in those films)

What is true though is that some very passionate fans who care about very specific things in their favorite film properties - and who have a disproportionately loud voice on the internet - are not satisfied with the way the director handled those very specific aspects they care so passionately about. But frankly: they never will be satisfied, and the best one can do is to be kind to those angry dudes - but otherwise ignore them.

So, there you have it. That's my - very lengthy - perspective on internet fandom's complicated relationship with J.J. Abrams. I hope this piece didn't come across somehow as me categorically refusing to accept any criticism of Abrams' films, because this was not my intention at all.

It's perfectly OK not to like SUPER 8 or THE FORCE AWAKENS or STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS, and I don't have to convince you anymore that those are good movies than you have to convince me that the MCU is the best thing that ever happened to mainstream blockbuster filmmaking.

What I DO hope is that I could get across why I'm not buying into a certain kind of criticism and why, yes, I actually like Abrams' films.