I never thought I’d write these words, but A Minecraft Movie seems to be having its Rocky Horror Picture Show moment. I don’t mean Jack Black has swapped a baggy teal T-shirt for corset and suspenders, or that Jason Momoa has traded tight denim jeans for golden hotpants, although what a film that would be. But I do mean it’s close to establishing the sort of baked-in rituals that make a cult classic. A Minecraft Movie becoming a cult classic – who would have thought?
Look, I realise I’m talking about two distinctly different things. A Minecraft Movie is pushing $1bn at the box office, making it the second most successful video game movie ever, whereas The Rocky Horror Show struggled upon opening and barely lasted a few weeks in cinemas. It was also filmed on a tiny budget and the actors were dangerously cold the whole time. It wasn’t until audiences took it upon themselves to invent call-back lines and come wearing costumes to Rocky Horror showings, and until they started throwing confetti and rice at specific moments, that it took off. That’s the point at which the rowdy rituals associated with the movie became appealing customs, and repeat showings became a thing. 50 years later, the film and associated stage show are still going strong. There are annual showings where I live, attended by costumed crowds, and fairly regular stage production tours – I’ve been to a couple.
Importantly for what we’re about to discuss, this audience partiparticipation at Rocky Horror is never explained. You don’t get a programme upon entering that clues you in to what you’re supposed to do. It just happens and you either know when to join in or you don’t. Participation is a fandom flex. It’s a sign that you’ve done your homework. A sign you belong. And to bring it back to A Minecraft Movie, that’s what “Chicken Jockey” is about.
We know Chicken Jockey now as the moment in the Minecraft film where Jack Black’s character Steve yells “Chicken Jockey” and everyone throws popcorn around. In the days and weeks following the film’s release, there were a string of headlines (in the national press no less) about auditoriums erupting in mayhem at this point. It got to be such a problem Jack Black visited a theatre to calm the audience down. But why? What is it about Chicken Jockey that’s so exciting? It’s just a baby zombie on a chicken. What’s so special about that?
To make sense of this you have to look to the game and understand that a Chicken Jockey is an incredibly rare thing. It refers to a baby zombie riding a chicken, as in the film, but it refers, more specifically, to the naturally occurring phenomenon of a baby zombie spawning in exactly the same location as a chicken in the game. As in, right on top of them, hence jockeying. But the chances of this happening are zero point zero zero something percent, such that barely anyone will ever see it organically occur. Even to just know about it, then, is to be in a kind of inner circle, to be a part of the Minecraft community.
My son knows all about this. He’s 14 now and grew up playing Minecraft, starting at around five years old. He continues to play it still. I don’t know how it manages to remain cool amongst the likes of FIFA and Fortnite and whatever else he’s playing, but it does. Perhaps it’s the familiarity of it. Perhaps it’s a comforting and unpressurised place to return to. Whatever the reason, Minecraft has been a constant gaming companion for him, and I’m sure he’s not the only person this is true for.
The success of the Minecraft Movie demonstrates, I think, just how much Minecraft means to people. I think it’s telling that the film it’s chasing for top-earning game-movie credentials is the Mario animated film, because I think Minecraft is also chasing – or perhaps has overtaken – Mario in terms of gaming influence when it comes to young minds. I don’t think the actual Minecraft movie, and the qualities of it, has that much to do with its success.
The film is fine. It’s okay. Jack Black and Jason Momoa bring credibility and an enjoyable silliness to it. Jack Black stomps around and sings catchy songs and Jason Momoa gives a kind of nerdy Machy Man Randy Savage performance with tassels, tight jeans and a deep growl.
The film also does a good job of realising and touring a world audiences will excitedly recognise. I pointed excitedly at the screen a few times when I saw things I recognised. Endermen! Villagers! Elytra wings! Look how much I know! But the film is more of a quick dip in Minecraft than something more memorable. It’s a bit thin. “Uh, it’s okay,” was my son’s verdict. (You can read a more elaborate take in Donlan’s A Minecraft Movie review.)
But I don’t think it matters how ‘good’ the film is. It’s good enough. What matters more is that it’s a film that celebrates a place that so many people have seen – and see – themselves in. A Minecraft Movie is an outward reflection of that. And it’s a reflection of them. The fact that there’s a Chicken Jockey moment at all only highlights this sense of being seen. It’s the most obscure detail the film makers could have included, and yet they did, and their audience loves it. Cue the popcorn!
There’s more to it than that, too. Chicken Jockey is the audience taking control of the Minecraft film in the same way it took – and takes – control of the Minecraft game, finding new ways to play with it, to make it their own. Just as an audience came forward 50 years ago to claim the Rocky Horror Picture Show, so is an audience coming forward to claim A Minecraft Movie now. The Minecraft Generation is here.