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A DAY AT THE MOVIES
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A Day at the Movies
by Daren Foster
A weekday afternoon spent inside a theatre watching a movie. Could there be anything better?
Of course there could and the list would probably number into the hundreds. Still, there’s something about a Thursday matinee to prove you are a dyed-in-the-wool film fan and very likely, not all that gainfully employed.
Submitting to this slightly delinquent-feeling urge, I found myself in a new downtown multiplex one afternoon last week. A large part of the draw was to step into the belly of the suburban beast that had found its way into the urban core. It’s not the first but it is, arguably, the closest in replication to those you see lining the freeways surrounded by malls, massive chain outlets and vast expanses of parking lots.
No, this is not going be some anti-suburban screed by a smug downtowner who loves his art house movies in cubby hole venues with floors that make squelching noises, sound systems going snap, crackle, pop and screens smaller than almost anything you can now purchase in one of those electronic box stores that cohabit space with the new megaplexes. For me, movies are an event. It’s what differentiates them from television. You leave the house. You purchase a ticket. The ticket is torn. You make a purchase from the concession stand. You enter a slightly darkened theatre where other patrons are already gathered, waiting. You choose a seat within the tribal confines, anticipating the dimming of the lights and the screen lighting up. Before every movie at the theatre, there’s always a slightly elevated level of expectation. Say what you will about these modern, hi-tech venues but they are clearly designed to create an event aura.
These heightened expectations I harbour for movies were nurtured during what is considered to be the last Golden Age of Hollywood: the 70s. For the theatres of that time, the period was not so kind. Those grand palaces, of which even smaller towns had at least one, were slowly abandoned, eventually closed down or divided into the original multi-screen complexes. The flight to the suburbs certainly played its part as the big old cinemas were usually located in the more established parts of town everyone was fleeing. Jaws and the advent of the blockbuster in 1975 were equally culpable, as movie execs learned one inviolable lesson from the staggering box offices success of Spielberg’s shark: more screens mean more money!
As screen numbers multiplied (along with the admission prices), their dimensions shrank, diminishing the personality of the theatres along with it. They become mere buildings, warehouses, making a night at the movies hardly more eventful than a trip to the hardware store. When VHS tapes appeared and cable channels began to flourish, going to the movies became an exercise in increased expense and decreased enjoyment. Some twenty years previously, when the ‘pictures’ were under a similar assault from the burgeoning growth of that new-fangled domestic device called ‘television’ in all its grainy, black and white glory, the studios countered with modern film techniques like CineScope, eye-popping Technicolor and 3D. As television evolved into home theatre systems, the movie experience adapted as well, eventually morphing into the increasingly carnivalesque environment of today’s megaplexes. Amidst all the distractions of video screens blaring upcoming previews, poutine concessions and banks of machines that go ‘ping’, movies can be found somewhere in the mix.
Purists point to this as proof of the emptiness of these movie theme parks. What should be the centrepiece of the entire enterprise -- the film -- is simply one of a multitude of attractions. Wandering through the complex, it’s difficult to argue against such sentiment. After paying your admission, you travel on four escalators to the theatre, up past chain stores, a food court, a roadhouse restaurant serving dry ribs and plates of nachos the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. If you hadn’t already bought a ticket to a movie, it would be quite easy to get sidetracked along the way.
Even the movie theatre complex lacks a certain old school feel. That art deco, popcorn scented sensation brought to life with such names as The Rialto, The Bijou and The Uptown. Ahh, remember those good old days? No, me neither. It’s the smell of nostalgia and other than in the odd rep house in larger metropolitan areas, it has been absent for the better part of 30 years.
The new movie houses are designed with the carefully calibrated sameness one sees in a shopping mall. That’s because they are shopping malls with movies serving as middle poles propping up the entire tent. Murals of actors and actresses, past and present, line the ceilings and floors while alcoves of dedicated director worship take up space along the walls to, I guess, remind patrons where they are.
All of which is beside the point to my mind. I go to the movies to see a movie not for a bite to eat or to buy a DVD player. I don’t tend to spend a lot of time in the lobby or milling about the concession stand. Inside, where the movie’s playing, is the essential element for me.
This is where the megaplexes deliver. The newest one advertises itself as the biggest all digital movie theatre in the country although its onscreen film stock figure mascot very purposefully seeks to undermine such a claim. (That whole digital versus film divide is an argument for another time.) What matters to me is that these new theatres have big screens, clean, crisp sound systems and comfortable seats. Whether it was a mere oversight or not, there were no commercials before the movie started to which I will give a full tip of my hat. As theatres, the new multiplexes are exemplary venues.
Still.. I found myself, ultimately, under-whelmed. Despite bringing 24 new screens onto the scene, I searched hard to find a movie to see. The one or two I found of interest were also playing at other new, flashy theatres within easy walking distance. More screens showing the same movies. What kind of business plan is that? With such a plethora of theatre space, why not dedicate 3 or 4 to show less mainstream fare, acknowledging your location in the very heart of a city with a critical mass of bone fide film buffs? Bring back those wary patrons who have been shuffled off to little creaky theatres in order to see the smaller, limited run and/or foreign films. Draw them from their houses where they’ve retreated in front of their home theatre systems to watch the DVD release.Give us better, more interesting movies and we’ll happily make our way to your megaplexes regardless of how gaudy, loud and ostentatious. Audiences have not declined because the theatres became less welcoming and entertaining. The movies did. And no dressing up the surroundings in fancy apparel and outfitting them with the latest gadgets is going to mask that fact.
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