Some narratologists contend that narratives constitute an epistemology or body of knowledge that we use to make sense of our surrounding world. In this respect, narratives are learning tools. They teach us how to respond to or understand specific situations; like if you are lost in the woods, and happen to come across a candy house, a famous German narrative recommends that you run for your life.

If this theory on the use of narratives is true (and I think it is), then anyone whose imagination subsists on a diet of Hollywood movies--which is the case for millions of Americans--knows very little about the world, because Hollywood only employs and distributes a small number of well-worn narratives. (I'm not sure of the exact number of narratives Hollywood recycles, but I think it's somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 or 17; however, my estimates are generous. I'm sure someone with an impressive command of narratives and their corresponding structures, like the blind Argentinean writer Jorge Luis Borges, could whittle the number down to five.) Worst of all, most of these narratives are useless, because how often do people find themselves in an airplane that's hijacked by a team of international terrorists (Executive Decision, Air Force One)? Or having to deal with an evil double (Face/Off, M:I 2, Me, Myself and Irene, The Nutty Professor)? Or suddenly required to save the world from an "extinction level" event (Armageddon, Deep Impact)?

I recently watched six blockbusters (Gladiator, Shanghai Noon, Titan A.E., Dinosaur, Gone in 60 Seconds, Big Momma's House) to see if even one offered a new story, a new narrative. As expected, none did; each film recycled a standard narrative, with little or no attempt to disguise the fact.

GLADIATOR

Structurally, this is the story of Joseph and His Brothers. For those who are not up on their Bible studies, the story of Joseph (in the Book of Genesis and the Koran) is about a favored and talented son who is sold into slavery by his jealous brothers. While in slavery, he uses his remarkable talent (interpreting dreams) to help others and eventually the Pharaoh, who is so impressed with his talent that he makes Joseph the governor of Egypt. What is key to this narrative, which some critics believe inspired Shakespeare's The Tempest, is to make the Joseph character an outsider (Maximus, Russell Crowe's character in Gladiator, is a Spaniard; Joseph is a Jew) in the powerful and dominant civilization of their time (Roman civilization for Maximus; Egyptian civilization for Joseph), and after falling to the bottom of this society because of some devious deed committed by a jealous family member (a symbolic brother for Maximus; real brothers for Joseph), he returns to power and fame by means of his talent or gift (fighting for Maximus, dream interpretation for Joseph). The only deviation Gladiator makes from the original text is adding a black sidekick--which, of course, Joseph never had.

SHANGHAI NOON

This is the story of Buddha. Indeed, any tale about a prince or princess who steps out of a palace (in this film, the princess is kidnapped from the Forbidden City), discovers "suffering" in the outside world, and then commits to helping others is a shameless retelling of the story of Buddha. Shanghai Noon, however, tries to confuse us by claiming that the plot is actually based on the narrative of the Princess and the Frog, which Jackie Chan makes reference to on numerous occasions. But the narrative of the Princess and the Frog constitutes a narrateme (a small narrative unit) that explains how a palace guard (Jackie Chan) feels about the beautiful princess: The ugly frog wants her to kiss him and transform him into a prince. Furthermore, the structure of the Princess and the Frog narrative is marked by a fall and rise motion (the prince is turned into a frog by a wicked witch, but returns to being a prince the moment he is kissed by the princess), whereas the structure of Shanghai Noon has the fall of the princess, but she does not return to her princess position at the end of the film. She instead becomes a regular human, and sets out to help the poor. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of Buddha.

DINOSAUR/TITAN A.E.

Though one is set in the distant past and the other in the distant future, both tell the same damn story: the narrative of Moses. Moses, "the prototype of the prophets" as Bible scholars often call him, is famous for leading his people out of bondage in Egypt to the edge of Canaan in 13 B.C. In both of these expensive animated films, we find all the crucial elements of the Moses narrative: We have a primal river scene at the opening of the movie (a robot-looking toy drifting down the river in Titan A.E., and a dinosaur egg drifting down the river in Dinosaur); both heroes are orphans (Aladar in Dinosaur and Cale in Titan A.E.); and a great disaster strikes the world (a comet in Dinosaur, evil aliens in Titan A.E.). Also, the orphans lead their nations, race, or species through a barren land (outer space in the case of Titan; the desert in Dinosaur) to a green Promised Land. The only serious break Hollywood makes from the original narrative is that the orphans live to see the Promised Land, instead of dying just before reaching it, which is what happened to Moses.

GONE IN 60 SECONDS

At first you may think this movie about a gang of thieves who steal cars owned by the rich is a slick retelling of Robin Hood, but it's not. The story of Robin Hood only functions as a motif, a narrateme within the real story, which is that of Moby Dick. Any narrative that has a man assembling a talented team to hunt down, with great determination, something that is elusive and mythical (a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT 500 in the case of Gone in 60 Seconds) is bluntly (if not arrogantly) retelling the story of Moby Dick, which, like Tom Sawyer and John Henry, is an American narrative.

BIG MOMMA'S HOUSE

This hit comedy has a grown man (Martin Lawrence playing an FBI agent) impersonating a grandmother so as to deceive her beautiful granddaughter, who is wanted by the FBI. Need I say more? This is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Indeed, Big Momma's House even has a scene where the granddaughter gets into bed with her grandmother, and suddenly feels something hard against her butt. "What's that hard thing?" she asks her grandmother. "It's a flashlight," the grandmother says. This, of course, is stolen directly from the famous tooth scene in Little Red Riding Hood. The only modifications Big Momma's House made to the original text are that the Wolf now has a Jewish sidekick, and Little Red Riding Hood has an illegitimate son.