ARTEMIS FOWL: The Sunk Cost Fallacy and Morality of Schoolyard Bullying

DISNEY+
DISNEY+

When Artemis Fowl saw its controversial premiere on Disney Plus, the entire world of film fandom took a deep breath.  This was not just because of  being the most expensive production to skip a theatrical run – partially blamed on the raging Coronavirus pandemic and the global shutdown of cinemas – or because this moment marked the end of the film’s journey through development hell – no. The world took a deep breath to make sure it had its collective set of lungs full of oxygen before it launched what seemed to be a tightly choreographed stunt.  The vast majority of fans all over the world treated Artemis Fowl the way Chris, Billy Nolan and Norma treated Carrie White in Brian De Palma’s adaptation of Stephen King’s debut novel Carrie.

Naturally, this film is extremely hard to like. Many prominent critics spent hundreds of words ruthlessly taking apart its flawed technical execution, haphazard structure, capriciousness of its core narrative, and seemingly arrogant franchise aspirations. At the same time, countless others engaged in an impromptu one-upmanship contest on social media, posting meme one-liner reviews and sassy hot takes. Meanwhile, blinded by the bloodlust of vitriol-flinging, nobody cared to ask why Artemis Fowl instantly became a lightning rod for disappointed filmgoers, homebound and starved for entertainment.  A possible reason is the dichotomy between the obscene amount of money drowned in the film’s production and the quality of the finished product, which indicated that Disney could spend eye-watering amounts of money. Maybe it’s because in many people’s eyes it is simply unwatchable. Or maybe – just maybe – it is because Artemis Fowl was watched en masse by people to whom it wasn’t addressed at all.

To appreciate this, one has to look back to when the Artemis Fowl novels were at the peak of their popularity, in the early 2000s. The books were immensely successful, which was partly thanks to the Harry Potter series. In fact, many critics at the time saw Artemis Fowl as an imitation of J.K. Rowling’s work which – instead of wizards – tried to interest young readers in Irish folk, fairies, dwarves and trolls. There is nothing inherently wrong with that; after all, imitation is the highest form of flattery. What is interesting about this organic connection between Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter is that the former failed as a film because its production did not mimic the production of Harry Potter adaptations.

Following its earth-shattering success, Harry Potter And The Philosopher’s Stone was immediately optioned for a film treatment, though the circumstances of J.K. Rowling finally giving the rights to four books to Warner Bros. are full of dramatic twists and turns as well. The adaptation saw the light of day only four years after the book’s release, in 2001. The rest is history. Similarly, Miramax pounced on the rights to Artemis Fowl, but instead of fast-tracking it for immediate cinematic release, the production got bogged down in development, with different names becoming briefly attached to direct or star in it.  Eventually, the project got sold off to Disney, which also took years to get the it off the ground, seemingly pulled along by the sheer inertia associated with the growing amounts of money committed to its development. Meanwhile, kids who enjoyed the books about a criminal mastermind infiltrating the lush world of Irish folklore were getting older and older. Eventually, the books dropped off people’s radar as well, which indicated that the window of opportunity for the film adaptation to remain relevant to audiences was becoming narrower by the minute.

This put Artemis Fowl  in an impossible position, as after nearly two decades of languishing in development it simply couldn’t be marketed to anyone. People who enjoyed the books when they were twelve are now in their thirties, while kids who are in the right age range have different preferences and are most likely not aware of the Artemis Fowl book series. As a result, instead of appealing to either of the demographics likely to enjoy this, the film ended up angering everyone. It’s too infantile to be liked by the thirty-somethings who remember the novels  – the film also takes liberties with adherence to the source material  – and it’s too alien for contemporary twelve-year-olds growing up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Coming back to the original question of whether it is right to partake in the public execution of Artemis Fowl, one can perhaps realise it may be somewhat tactless to do so. This is because even a miracle wouldn’t have improved the outcome, not to fit in 2020. It was simply bound to be a failure because its window of opportunity had closed long ago. If anything, it was probably correct Disney decided not to commit to a theatrical release, which would have to be delayed yet again  due to COVID-19,  and would likely involve spending even more on marketing and that’s equivalent to carpeting a burning house. Therefore, ostracising Artemis Fowl should be frowned upon. It is thus advised to simply let the movie be forgotten  – evidence suggests this process is already well underway.

However, the farcical case of Artemis Fowl might also become a harbinger of doom for another movie perpetually stuck in development: James Cameron’s Avatar sequel, which is – ironically – also owned by Disney. By the time this film gets released, and it is currently slated for Christmas 2021, the original Avatar will be twelve years old. While it is highly unlikely that Disney will end up dumping it unceremoniously on its streaming service, – the project is already expected to cost in excess of 1 billion dollars –  it may be too late for it to make a splash or to capitalise on the immense success of its predecessor. Ultimately, the people who loved it will have grown tired of waiting by then and new prospective audiences will have no emotional attachment to a film about huge Smurfs re-enacting Pocahontas on a different planet. 



Jakub Flasz

Jakub is a passionate cinenthusiast, self-taught cinescholar, ardent cinepreacher and occasional cinesatirist. He is a card-carrying apologist for John Carpenter and Richard Linklater's beta-orbiter whose favourite pastime is penning piles of verbiage about movies.

Twitter: @talkaboutfilm

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