1993 Movie essay: Wow, if 1992 was The Year Punk Broke, then 1993 was The Year Indie Movies Broke. The idea that art-house films could also be mass appeal films hit critical mass this year with "The Piano." People who should never, ever have gone to the art house showed up in droves to see it, people whose last movie watched was "Home Alone." That strongly reminds me of The Blair Witch Project. I'm not surprised there was a backlash against this film. Taking advantage of this new paradigm, Steven Spielberg changed his mind about releasing his next movie as an art film, making Schindler's List another arthouse crossover. However, my original essay focused instead on a trend in movies that upset me greatly: sensitive men as freaks of nature, doomed to unhappiness. From Edward Scissorhands through Untamed Heart, at last nice guys were the stars of movies and getting the girl, only [1] there was always something bizarrely wrong with them, and [2] these movies never had a happy ending. What was the deal with that? What kind of not-so-subliminal message was Hollywood obsessed with back then? I bet Steven Segal always gets the girl in the end, but I will never know for sure since I would never watch such dreck.