Why fans are so worried about Pacific Rim's box office fortunes

When  a report appeared online that mentioned, in an offhand manner, that more people wanted to see Grown Ups 2  than Pacific Rim two weeks before both movies' release, there were a number of interesting takeaways.

Firstly, that a surprising large number of people were excited about the prospect of a sequel to a critically panned movie starring both Kevin James and Adam Sandler. Secondly, that despite the sizable amount of pre-release promotion -- including  multiple trailers and online featurettes -- a surprisingly small number of people were excited about the sci-fi action movie Pacific Rim. It's an unfortunate, but simple fact of the movie industry: sometimes, good movies flop, and crappy movies succeed. (Let's call it the Speed Racer/Smurfs rule.)

Except, it turned out, there was a third school of thought that went beyond happenstance. What if, some fans and pundits wondered, the reason that people aren't that excited about Pacific Rim was because of a conspiracy against the movie?  "Who is trying to kill Pacific Rim?" wondered one report. After all, there was simply no other reason that audiences wouldn't want to see a movie about giant robots beating up giant lizards that's filled to the brim with easter eggs referencing things that they've never even heard about, never mind seen.

After all, you just have to look at the stratospheric success of Marvel's The Avengers, The Dark Knight, Iron Man 3 or Man of Steel to know that, on some level, we're all geeks now, at least when it comes to the multiplex. The mainstream has been so successfully colonised by comic book culture, and its attendant sub-cultures, that the idea that something so squarely appealing to one of those sub-cultures -- namely, Kaiju Japanese Monster fandom -- felt almost guaranteed to be a hit in some way. Those nerds love that kind of stuff, right?
But therein lies the disconnect. Kaijus aren't superheroes. There's a (sizable) crossover in their fan bases, yes; both genres enjoy a focus on larger-than-life storytelling and melodramatic stakes, but that crossover isn't absolute. For all of the ridiculous and impossible things that superheroes can do, their stories tend to focus on relatable characters. Monster stories, on the other hand, tend to be… well, about destruction and spectacle. Bearing that in mind, it's hardly surprising that mainstream (i.e., not traditionally "nerdy") audiences are sceptical about whether or not Pacific Rim is really for them, since its appeal is based on nostalgia for things they haven't necessarily experienced or embraced.

But this fan protectiveness -- this desire for the movie's success -- has also inspired very defensive reactions. As of time of writing, tweets announcing that "If you're not excited to see Pacific Rim, then we can't be friends" are all over Twitter from multiple people; all tongue in cheek, of course, but there's a weird peer pressure involved in their popularity nonetheless (Related:  the sudden spate of celebrity endorsements).
Worse, when some reviews paused between complimenting the special effects and awesome action sequences to comment that the movie is light on character moments, fan reaction was oddly aggressive: "If you're disappointed that Pacific Rim isn't the great character drama of our generation you deserve to be punched in the face on entry,"  went one tweet, for example, responding to a straw man argument that no one had actually made. It's almost as if Pacific Rim's success or lack thereof was personal for a lot of people who have no actual connection with the movie.

Movie critic Scott Weinberg has a theory about that. "Here's why geeks care if Pacific Rim makes money," he  tweeted last weekend. "Because we love Guillermo del Toro and we want him to succeed. It's not brain surgery."

Is it really that simple? Has del Toro amassed enough goodwill directing movies like Blade II, Pan's Labyrinth and the Hellboy movies -- and failing, publicly, to direct movies like  At the Mountains of Madness -- that he's been accepted by the great unspoken nerd hive mind, and deemed worthy of the oddly aggressive-defensive "One of Us" attitude that trumps whether or not a project is actually any good or not? Somewhere, Joss Whedon is smiling, having gone through the same thing with both Dollhouse and Serenity.
Ultimately, such an attitude does everyone involved a disservice. In Pacific Rim, del Toro has created a love letter to a genre with a relatively small fanbase; instead of getting petulant or angry that the mainstream audience might instinctively recognise his genius without context -- or simply might not be into it -- it strikes me that the thing to do for those who love del Toro is to congratulate him for a job well done, commiserate with him for those who passed up the chance to join in, and move on.

If Pacific Rim doesn't conquer the box office this weekend-and  current tracking suggests that even Kanye West's approval hasn't really shifted that possibility that much-then it can join things like 2001, Fight Club and Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World as beloved films that flopped at the box office. Console yourself with the fact that it's unlikely to lose as much money as Lone Ranger or John Carter.