A few weeks ago, I was back in Plano, Texas visiting friends and family over spring break. There are a lot of very public cons to being a teacher, but there's no denying the value of those breaks.
Whenever I'm back in town, my to-do list is pretty straightforward: Stay with my parents (sleeping in my brother's bed because my room was unceremoniously turned into my niece's home away from home), visit my sister's baby girl Ava, see my brother and exchange a bro hug (we invented that by the way) and then get together with friends for some Mambo Taxis at Mi Cocina before seeing a movie at my home away from home for many years: Cinemark West Plano.
One does not pick a secondary home lightly, and from 2014-2019, Cinemark West Plano was my happy place. I went there to escape the world, and eight times out of ten, my faith was rewarded. That'll put you in the hall of fame in any sport.
The ticket prices were reasonable, the popcorn was fresh, the theaters were clean (they better be because I was the one cleaning them in 2016), previews were not 25 minutes long, sodas weren't more than $5 yet, and fellow moviegoers were quiet, respectful and cognizant of the fact that they, like me, were at this wonderful place to leave the rest of the world behind and enjoy the bliss of the cinema for a few hours.
Me when I was young, innocent and movies were good
So, consider my indignation when my trip to see Creed III with CGI Fridays co-chairman Jake resulted in the following atrocities:
- The tickets were $13 each, which we knew was coming, but still ridiculous for a Wednesday evening showing of a film that had been out for weeks.
- The popcorn is no longer served fresh by concession workers, but rather left in premade buckets behind glass as if they were prisoners no longer allowed to see the light of day. Also, it's $8 for a large.
- A large soda was $5.50 and Jake knew it was flat after just a sip.
- The previews were as long as ever, which we've gotten used to. This is a problem anywhere you go, although Harkins (Arizona) and Alamo Draft House (Texas) mercifully limit the precedings to around 10 minutes.
- Right before the previews end, I inform Jake that I am unhappy with our two way mirror popcorn. I go back and find that there is indeed someone back in the kitchen who will give us popcorn straight out of the machine. I get a new batch... and it's worse than the first. Too late. The movie's starting.
- Mere seconds into the movie, someone a few rows ahead is on their phone. I graciously give them the chance to put it away --maybe they are notifying someone the film is starting, which is reasonable!-- but no, they are on it for minutes and nobody says a word. Jake knows I won't put up with bad theater etiquette so I politely call from a couple rows up: "Will you please get off your phone? Thank you!"
- They do, but about 30 minutes into the movie, a very young child in the back row starts to get fussy. I get it, it happens; that's the risk you take when you take a kid to the movies. (Not to mention an R-rated boxing movie without any shiny colors and numerous explicit rap lyrics.) Take them outside and calm them down. It's the decent thing to do. Well, like Harvey Dent said in The Dark Knight, we live 'in an indecent time."
9. It works for a minute or two, but the kid starts again. It's not just whines or complaints, but playful sounds that a child makes at the park or at home playing with toys. Not in a movie theater. Ever. Jake knows I'm not happy and I begin to mumble some words under my breath that are frequently said in this R-RATED MOVIE. I do my best to remain cool but the movie just had one of its most emotional moments completely undercut by this obnoxious child and their moron caretakers.
10. I've been in movies with crying kids, chatty teens, distracting texters, cold and overpriced food, bad lighting, shoddy projectors, malfunctioning sound, broken air conditioning... but this was probably the worst theater experience I've ever had because the adult did not do the obvious (read: decent) thing and remove their child from the movie. Finally, I get up and walk towards the back of the theater and before I decide to say anything, I simply stare at where the noises have been coming from because it's too dark to properly identify the transgressors.
11. That is my last ditch effort to restore order to the cinematic experience and what I used to call my happy place. It doesn't work for long and nobody else seems to be willing to speak up or take action. So I grab my coat, my water bottle, and I leave. The movie isn't even over. It's almost over and I'm pretty sure Rocky Jr. wins. It's been a solid film but I don't care about missing the end. At this point, it's about sending a message. After I left, Jake said someone else finally spoke up. It did nothing. Too late, fellow citizens.
Still with me? Okay, well I'm almost done. I promise.
The cinematic experience has been dying for years. Everyone will point to the pandemic, which literally shut the doors at theaters all around the globe. But the truth is that it was already happening before March 2020.
People of different generations will always debate what is the true "golden age" of cinema. Is it the 1920s to 1960s when movies became a staple of modern society? The westerns of the 1940s and 1950s? What about the 1970s that saw film connoisseurs like Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas give usThe Godfather, Jaws and Star Wars? Gen Z's like myself might make the case for the franchise revolution of the 2000s or the deep, diverse offerings of the 2010s.
What nobody will argue is that it's happening right now. Movies are in a bad place. My CGI Fridays rankings are proof alone. Here is the breakdown of movies I've given an A+, A, or A- to since I started documenting my grades in blog form back in 2012, a grade that qualifies a motion picture for the vaunted Infinity List.
2012: 27
2013: 33
2014: 40
2015: 26
2016: 34
2017: 28
2018: 31
2019: 38
2020: 13
2021: 17
2022: 12
2023 so far: 0
I'm just one person, but the drop in quality isn't my opinion alone. The onset of the "Streaming Wars" was killing the theater business before Covid-19 even existed. People would rather watch the limitless supply of content from their own couch, unless it's a blockbuster film driving crowds that want to stay current with the cultural zeitgeist.
And guess what you can do from your own couch? Talk and be on your phone. But even when many members of the modern audience do make the journey to their local cinema, they bring these homebound habits with them and bother everyone around them.
What happened to human decency? On that note, what has happened to humans?
Theaters are barely holding on and aren't helping themselves with soaring prices to stay afloat, disrespectful crowds that can't be controlled, and concessions that would be best served on a dollar menu.
Add in the fact that many big studios are electing to send their top IP's straight to streaming or forego movies entirely and create television series for Netflix, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, Disney Plus, Apple TV, Hulu, Paramount+, Peacock, or whoever and you have an era of cinema that results in a movie like Cocaine Bear currently residing in the top ten grossing films of 2023.
How does it change? Well, the answer is pretty clear to me: we need better movies.
Whether it's a franchise tentpole like Marvel or Star Wars, we need better movies.
Whether it's an independent film or a low-budget passion project, we need better movies.
Whether it's a scary movie or a comedy, we need better movies.
For now, the cinema is dead. At least to me. I miss going. Until things get better, I won't be going very often.
If you enjoyed my ramblings, you can check out more of my thoughts on movies all over this blog as well as in my new book, "I'm So OCD," available April 13th!
You can pre-order the book with the following link. Thank you for reading!
No comments:
Post a Comment