Either I’m getting older or movies are getting longer… and longer … and longer. So which is it? I took a look at the numbers. I studied the running time of
the top 100 US-grossing films since 1994 (2,200 films in total) and all films shot in the UK 2005-14 (2,142 films). In summary… The median length of …
Either I’m getting older or movies are getting longer… and longer … and longer. So which is it? I took a look at the numbers.
I studied the running time of the top 100 US-grossing films since 1994 (2,200 films in total) and all films shot in the UK 2005-14 (2,142 films). In summary…
The median length of a top 100 US-grossing films between 1994 and 2015 was 110 minutes
Running times have increased in six of the past seven years
The longest films are historical and western films and the shortest are animations and documentaries.
Peter Jackson makes the longest movies in Hollywood, with a median running time of 169 minutes.
The median running time of UK feature films (2008-14) was 94 minutes.
Films with lower budgets have shorter running times
The complete extended Lord of the Rings and Hobbit trilogies are a combined 21 hours long
…
It’s reassuring to read that I wasn’t the only one to observe this trend in filmmaking, and to find that somebody else had done the research to save me from feeling the need to do so
myself! The full article also makes a number of other interesting observations; worth a read.
My home computer in 1998 had a 56K modem connected to our telephone line; we were allowed a maximum of thirty minutes of computer usage a day, because my parents — quite reasonably
— did not want to have their telephone shut off for an evening at a time. I remember webpages loading slowly: ten […]
My home computer in 1998 had a 56K modem connected to our telephone line; we were allowed a maximum of thirty minutes of computer usage a day, because my parents — quite reasonably —
did not want to have their telephone shut off for an evening at a time. I remember webpages loading slowly: ten to twenty seconds for a basic news article.
At the time, a few of my friends were getting cable internet. It was remarkable seeing the same pages load in just a few seconds, and I remember thinking about the kinds of the
possibilities that would open up as the web kept getting faster.
And faster it got, of course. When I moved into my own apartment several years ago, I got to pick my plan and chose a massive fifty megabit per second broadband connection, which I
have since upgraded.
So, with an internet connection faster than I could have thought possible in the late 1990s, what’s the score now? A story at the Hill took over
nine seconds to load; at Politico, seventeen seconds; at CNN, over thirty seconds. This is the
bullshit web.
But first, a short parenthetical: I’ve been writing posts in both long- and short-form about this stuff for a while, but I wanted to bring many threads together into a single document
that may pretentiously be described as a theory of or, more practically, a guide to the bullshit web.
A second parenthetical: when I use the word “bullshit” in this article, it isn’t in a profane sense. It is much closer to Harry Frankfurt’s definition in “On Bullshit”:
It is just this lack of connection to a concern with truth — this indifference to how things really are — that I regard as of the essence of bullshit.
In the year 1930, John Maynard Keynes predicted that, by century’s end, technology would have advanced sufficiently that countries like Great Britain or the United States would have
achieved a 15-hour work week. There’s every reason to believe he was right. In technological terms, we are quite capable of this. And yet it didn’t happen. Instead, technology has
been marshaled, if anything, to figure out ways to make us all work more. In order to achieve this, jobs have had to be created that are, effectively, pointless. Huge swathes of
people, in Europe and North America in particular, spend their entire working lives performing tasks they secretly believe do not really need to be performed. The moral and
spiritual damage that comes from this situation is profound. It is a scar across our collective soul. Yet virtually no one talks about it.
[…]
These are what I propose to call ‘bullshit jobs’.
What is the equivalent on the web, then?
…
This, this, a thousand times this. As somebody who’s watched the Web grow both in complexity and delivery speed over the last quarter century, it apalls me that somewhere along the way
complexity has started to win. I don’t want to have to download two dozen stylesheets and scripts before your page begins to render – doubly-so if those additional
files serve no purpose, or at least no purpose discernable to the reader. Personally, the combination of uMatrix and Ghostery is all the adblocker I need (and I’m more-than-willing to add a little userscript to “fix” your site if it tries to sabotage my use of these
technologies), but when for whatever reason I turn these plugins off I feel like the Web has taken a step backwards while I wasn’t looking.
Do you remember Challenge Anneka? It aired during the late 1980s and early 1990s and basically involved TV
presenter Anneka Rice being dropped off somewhere “random” and being challenged to find and help people in sort-of a treasure-trail activity; sort of a game show but with only one
competitor and the prizes are community projects and charities. No? Doesn’t matter, it’s just what I was thinking about.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” said Robin, shortly before we stole his phone and wallet and dumped him in the countryside.
Ruth‘s brother Robin is doing a project this year that he calls 52 Reflect (you may recall I shared his inaugural post) which sees him leaving London to visit a different place every weekend, hike around, and take some photos. This last weekend,
though, he hadn’t made any plans, so he came up to Oxford and asked us to decide where he went: we were to pick a place between 10 and 15 miles away, blindfold him, and drop
him off there to see if he could find his way home. Naturally he’d need to be deprived of a means of navigation or communication, so we took his phone, and to increase the challenge we
also took his wallet, leaving him with only a tenner in case he needed to buy a packet of crisps or something.
I had a friendly assistant test out a variety of blindfolds for me: this wasn’t the one we eventually used.
After much secretive discussion, we eventually settled on N 51° 50.898′, W 001° 28.987′: a
footpath through a field in the nothingness to the West of Finstock, a village near the only-slightly-larger town of Charlbury. Then the next morning we bundled Robin into a car (with a blindfold on), drove him out to near the spot, walked him the rest of
the way (we’d been careful to pick somewhere we believed we could walk a blindfolded person to safely), and ran quietly away while he counted to 120 and took off his blindfold.
We selected a location based on a combination of its distance, natural beauty, and anticipated difficulty in determining the “right” direction to walk in after being abandoned.
Unfortunately it rained on the day itself, so the beauty was somewhat muted.
I also slipped a “logging only” GPS received into his backpack so that we’d be able, after the fact, to extract data about his journey – distance, speeds, route etc.. And so when he
turned up soaking wet on our door some hours later we could look at the path he took at the same time as he told us the story of his adventure. (If you’re of such an inclination, you
can download the GPX file.)
His route might not have been the most direct, but he DID manage to hitch a lift for the first leg.
For the full story of his adventure, go read Robin’s piece about it (the blog posts of his
other adventures are pretty good too). Robin’s expressed an interest in doing something similar – or even crazier – in future, so you might be hearing more of this kind of thing.
