According to Aristotle, “History represents things as they are, while fiction represents them as they might be and ought to be.”

Today, this statement is true of all mediums of art that entail elements of fiction. All except film. This is no written or formal exception, but a statue that has reflected the attitudes of many movie fans who loathe the idea of remaking movies, remaining loyal to all things “original.”

When people are aware that a theatrical release is a “remake” (what an ugly word, by the way), they tend to shun it critically. However, the disapproval seems to be based on the implied notion that movies are, in a sense, “historical” – immune to adjustment or change.

In the realm of fiction, though, where imagination is free to roam where it pleases, how can something that is not even real be protected from bending or reshaping?

It cannot be denied that there does exist a fatiguing abundance of recycled concepts that have proven to be anything but interesting. Through their less than enthusiastic artistic efforts, it is easy to recognize the lack of merit in a filmmaker who conceives a sequel or a “remake” with the sole intention of milking a financially prospective franchise.

Most have attributed the monotony on a drought of fresh ideas in Hollywood, which may be reflective of modern society and the way its thinking functions as a whole. In her 1969 book The Romantic Manifesto, objectivist philosopher and novelist Ayn Rand explains, “Modern art is the most eloquent demonstration of the cultural bankruptcy of our age.”

Such an expression has probably been more valid within the last decade than ever. No doubt there is a long laundry list of films that support this, but an exceptionally fine illustration can be found in the career of director Gus Van Sant, who in 1998, between two great films “Good Will Hunting” (1997) and “Finding Forrester” (2000), crafted a disastrous, near shot for shot duplicate of the 1960 Alfred Hitchcock thriller “Psycho.”

This is an example of what lies at one extreme of the spectrum: complete and utter mockery. It is worthy of note that Rand also writes, “Bad art is, predominantly the product of imitation, of secondhand copying, not of creative expression.” Bingo.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, though, lies the sphere of filmmaking that is, in fact, the product of creative expression. It encompasses remaking and revitalizing concepts in such ways that broaden our horizons and even arouse our interest in the original content.

It can be said that, were it not for George Lucas borrowing major concepts from the work of Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa (such as 1954’s “Seven Samurai” and 1958’s “Hidden Fortress”), there may not have been a “Star Wars” saga, as Lucas has admitted to basing major plot points and characters on concepts that appealed to him in those old films.

And on the subject of samurai films, Quentin Tarantino’s epic “Kill Bill” (2003), as elegant and fantastic as it may be, is mostly a collection of imitative concepts from old martial arts films of the 1970’s. Christopher Nolan’s 2005 success “Batman Begins” was a very appropriate and much needed revival of a movie franchise thought to be dead and buried.

Ironically, much of the style and intensity of “Batman Begins” was due in part to comic book legend Frank Miller, whose graphic novels The Dark Knight Returns (1986) and Batman: Year One (1987) depicted the comic book hero in such unconventional, yet genius ways that it was almost instinctive for Nolan to adapt ideas from them.

In the introduction of The Dark Knight Returns, fellow graphic novelist Alan Moore writes, “With the increase in media coverage and information technology, we see more of the world, comprehend its workings a little more clearly, and as a result our perception of ourselves and the society surrounding us has been modified.

Consequently, we begin to make different demands upon the art and culture that is meant to reflect the constantly shifting landscape we find ourselves in. We demand new themes, new insights, new dramatic situations.”

This implies that a change in perspective in many things is suitable in order to keep things fresh and in tune with our culture.

If this is true, why are people so quick to condemn a filmmaker who wishes to recreate something they find extraordinary enough to attempt to reinterpret to a modern audience? The most common argument considered is most likely the inquiry of, “Why can’t people come up with their own ideas?” The answer to that is history.

When one looks back at the vast majority of films, they may find difficulty in finding those works which are one hundred percent original, having not been inspired by another film, a true event, or some form of publication, mythology, or other source.

With that being said, there may just be a new cynicism in the air. And that is the kind that draws conclusions based on the surface level of things, leaving no room for observation of substance. It appears that a lot of people are complaining about “remakes” as a force of habit and not authentic opinion.

Is the disliking of “remakes” amongst those who consider themselves film connoisseurs nothing more than another pop culture trend?

Oddly enough, this attitude may not be genuine amongst all those who seemingly possess it.

The average modern filmgoer’s sometimes unexplained hatred for the “remake” gives the impression that it is merely serving as compensation for the lack of true knowledge of the aesthetics of film and art that the individual may actually have.

Don’t be surprised at the suggestion that many people think the ideal of defensively praising originality makes them appear smart. To proclaim utter distaste for the idea of the “remake” without appreciating its weight in the art of film is not smart. It is the same formula by which many people select the kind of music they do or don’t listen to.

The mere presence of a particular song on the radio does not make it good, nor does its commercial status make it bad. It is a widely shared belief that the simple fact that a movie is a “remake” or has borrowed elements from other works of film does not make it good.

At the same time, though it does not immediately make it bad. To maintain belief in the contrary would be to presume that all films that are original, in the sense that they are not a “remake” or a sequel, are timeless pieces that are impervious to improvement or alternate perception. When it comes to fiction and the differences within people’s realms imagination, nothing of the sort is true.

The horror genre of film has been especially stigmatized as an asylum of ineffective “remakes”. It is so bad, that now a director of a “remake” is verbally attacked upon the mere announcement of his or her project. The latest target is rocker turned director Rob Zombie, who received protest virtually the second he announced that his third directorial endeavor would be a “remake” of the original “Halloween.”

In Zombie’s “Halloween” there is a notable scene where a television displays a black and white broadcast of the film “The Thing From Another World”, a 1951 science fiction film that was remade by John Carpenter as “The Thing” in 1982. Carpenter, who is no stranger to remaking movies, also helmed a recreation of the 1960 classic “Village of the Damned” in 1995.

What is significant about Carpenter though, is that he is most notably known for his original piece “Halloween”, a film credited with revolutionizing the horror genre and at the same time punishing it in the long run by triggering a handful of sub par sequels made by already forgotten directors.

As of late, Zombie, who in my personal opinion is a very talented and promising director, has been, for lack of a better word, crucified throughout Hollywood’s public court of opinion for what many are considering to be tampering with a masterpiece. It is ironic, though, that despite having made similar moves in his own career, Carpenter is placed on a pedestal and revered as a divine-like craftsman.

Maybe he is just reaping the benefits of being born in an earlier generation, where people are endowed this strange thing called “the benefit of the doubt.” Just a theory, though.

No matter what one’s opinion on this may be, it can be agreed by all that directors won’t stop enraging fans by hitching rides on the runaway “remake” train any time soon. In the defense of those who do so with good reason, though, the intrinsic value of artistic interpretation should never be disregarded without thought, whether the source of the expression is spontaneous or inspired by an already formulated idea, making it a reinterpretation.

There are plenty of good “remakes” out there, and those who consider themselves true fans of film should refrain from unjustifiably panning the very concept of the “remake,” even if all the other kids are doing it too, because in the event that the majority of the whiners and complainers actually are just jumping on the bandwagon, it would be a shame to see what they would do if the other pessimists decided to jump off of a bridge.

Ready for the edge of your seat?