Things I Miss: The Movie Theater

If you’ve read this blog lately, you know that I love movies. What might surprise you is that I have only been averaging the viewing of barely over one movie per year in the theater. The reason? I’ll get to that. It wasn’t always like this. I once loved seeing first-run movies in the theater, enjoying the shared experience of the movies. From the original Star Wars films to the Indiana Jones adventures, the Muppet Movie, and hundreds of others, the movies used to be an escape. Escape from reality and all the frustrations and annoyances of life. Unfortunately, those annoyances have made their way into the theater. Not that I can claim to have experienced it, but movies used to be one of the few affordable pastimes during the Great Depression. Now, ticket prices are insane. Finally, whether my tastes have changed, the quality of films has decreased, or a combination of the two, there are very few films I even want to see in the theater. (The images shown are the posters of the last movies I’ve seen in the theater environment).



I’m long past fitting in the 18 to 24 year-old demographic. Loooong past. But, the reports I’ve read say that the average consumer sees at least one movie a month in the theaters. I don’t seem to fit into that demographic either. I was curious to look back and determine how many movies I used to see in an average year. So, I researched 1990, the year I graduated from high school, entered college, and turned nineteen. (Why am I hearing Paul Hardcastle in my head?) I tried not to cheat at this. I used to work at a movie theater, so I specifically avoided choosing one of those years. In 1990, I saw 25 films in theaters. I think we can rule out the notion that films were better then. Out of the 25, I can only recommend 4, and that’s a stretch.



So, what has changed? In 1990, the average ticket price was $4.22. I’m sure that the half year I was in Los Angeles saw higher prices than that, but it still wouldn’t compare to the $10-$15 dollars being paid now, and that range is just in Seattle, depending on choice of theater, IMAX, or 3-D options. I was a student then, and I’m a student now, yet now I’m not seeing close to the number of movies I was seeing then. Now, that’s not even getting into snack and drink prices, the biggest scam in the movie business, but I wisened up on that score even longer ago than my decline in theater visits. With so many other entertainment options on the table, such as Netflix, their streaming options, Internet, and good, old-fashioned books, paying $50 or more on a date, not including dinner, or half that all by my lonesome, doesn’t seem appealing. Add in the fact that most movies being released are absolute drivel and the decision becomes even easier.



Movies used to be an incredible shared experience. Patrons would gasp, weep, laugh and cheer together. These days, no one seems to do anything as one. We’ve all experienced theater annoyances, including crying babies and ringing cell phones. But, the advent of home video and TiVo technology has somehow deceived theatergoers into believing that the theater is an extension of their living room, and they can say and do as they please. My frustration started innocently enough. Back in 1986, I sat in a typical movie theater audience watching the latest Eddie Murphy vehicle, The Golden Child. Out of nowhere, about two seconds before Murphy himself said it in the film, someone in front of me said, “All I want is a chip,” completely deflating the upcoming joke. Man, was I pissed. Several other instances occurred: two guys not shutting up throughout A.I., a gaggle of old ladies chatting loudly in the midst of O Brother, Where Art Thou, and various other similar situations, and that’s not even addressing the horrors I saw as a theater usher. The tipping point occurred during a viewing of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. A couple sat behind me, along with their son who was far too young to understand the plot. Their solution? They explained what was going on all the way through the movie, despite several admonitions from neighbors. (And believe me, I checked afterwards, stealthily, to see if he was blind or impaired in some way, which might have excused the transgression).




I just can’t take it. I’d rather wait the short few months for a Netflix appearance (which now may be getting even better thanks to some smart studio deals) than to have to pay exorbitantly to be annoyed, frustrated and let’s face it, the opposite of entertained. I think I’ve made the right decision. The last few movies I’ve seen, while not necessarily in my top ten list of all time, have been good ones. I wish I could one day enjoy the theater experience again. The recent gimmicks of the studios to get more people in theaters, however, have had the opposite effect on me. It happens every time an entertainment medium starts to run out of ideas. It happened with comic books in the 90’s, when holograms, foil-embossing, and variant covers nearly ruined the industry. It is also happening now with DVD’s, where silly ‘collectables,’ hastily thrown together special features, and packaging have trumped better quality transfers and entertaining commentaries. I don’t ever want to see a 3-D film. I couldn’t care less about D-Box seating. IMAX has a small amount of allure, but not enough to turn the tide.



For a short period, I worked at the Laemmle Royal Theatre in Los Angeles. Yes, you can tell it’s an art theater as they spell theatre with an ‘re.’ During this time, I was able to see a massive amount of movies, some great, some not so great. Could I have achieved theater overload? Could my experiences as an employee have tainted my later enjoyment of the theater experience? Possibly. But, when I remember seeing The Usual Suspects, The Shawshank Redemption, Pulp Fiction, The Last Seduction, and Killing Zoe I think it was worth it. I just have to completely repress Natural Born Killers and Showgirls. Ugh.



I go to movies for one reason and one reason only, to experience a well-told visual story. It seems that one element is the last on the priority list for Hollywood films recently. If I needed any kind of validation of my complete disconnect with Hollywood, it is exemplified by the “ratings low points” of the Oscars in the last fifteen years. Two of the lowest rated Academy Awards ceremonies, as well as being the ones named by public as being ‘the worst,’ are two of my favorite years for films. In 1997, I would have been happy with either The English Patient, which ended up winning, or Fargo, as Best Picture. But, Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet, Secrets & Lies, and Trainspotting also earned high marks for me, and increased my respect for the Academy. In 2008, I honestly would have been happy with any of the five Best Picture nominated films earning the Oscar. No Country for Old Men, Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton and There Will Be Blood were all films that involved well-told visual stories. They were all well-acted, and visually compelling. Yet, the public hated that year of films. I realize I’m not Hollywood’s notion of an ideal theatergoer, but if more films like these were made, I might go more than once a year.

Things I Miss: Video Games

I have literally lived a life that has never been without video games. As early as I can remember, back to the house in Tustin, California, we played Pong. Sure, we had other games and toys, but I distinctly remember the digital stick paddles moving up and down as we turned the dials clockwise and counter-clockwise. It was a rudimentary game, called Pong because of its resemblance to ping-pong, but I found it closer to air hockey, as you just had to get the “ball” past the opponent. The amazing thing about Pong was that it wasn’t a game for a console, it WAS the console, sold through Sears. It was such a hit when it was released for home consumption in 1975, that an upstart debut comedy show, called Saturday Night Live, had a recurring segment with Al Franken and Tom Davis having goofy conversations over Pong games. As rudimentary as it was, I was fascinated by it, entranced by the idea of using handheld controls to manipulate images on a screen. Little did I know how much technology would improve over the coming years.



Like everyone else my age, I had an Atari 2600. If Pong inspired my love of video games, the Atari knocked me head over heels. My favorite games were the most simplistic, yet hardest to master. Megamania, a version of Space Invaders, was fun and challenging. Adventure was an early game that required a little bit more than most games, including retracing one’s steps and looking harder for things that weren’t easily discovered. Before Pole Position even hit the arcades, there was Night Driver, the original first-person racing game. Yars’ Revenge was like Space Invaders turned on its head, with the player as the invading alien against the defending cannon. Pitfall was a huge hit, and it was easy to see why. Swinging on vines and jumping over crocodiles was a new concept for video games, and the gameplay was unmatched at that point. Raiders of the Lost Ark was one of the more difficult games, though not as ridiculously puzzling as Riddle of the Sphinx. The favorite game in our household was Kaboom, a game that aped Missile Command in a way, involving a stereotypical striped-shirt criminal dropping bombs off the top of a wall, forcing the player, controlling water buckets at the bottom of the screen to catch them, putting them out. As levels increased, the bombs dropped faster and faster, requiring near perfect reflexes. There were disappointments, too. The adaptation of E.T. was a stinker, while the build-up to Pac-Man merely led to severe let down. I distinctly remember my parents purchasing the game, yet arriving home from the mall past our bedtime, so we were forbidden from playing until the morning. As if it were Christmas, Matt and I got up in the wee hours of the morning, plugged in the cartridge and, having been familiar with the arcade experience, sat dumbfounded at the images and sounds that came out of the television. Whatever we were looking at, it wasn’t Pac-Man.



Soon, video game consoles briefly gave way for home computers. Text sometimes replaced graphics, but with more of a story, a predecessor to the complicated fantasy games that would arrive down the road. Zork was one of the more popular games, and much parodied in its style. In fact, just the other day at work, I saw someone had written on a white board,
You are in a hallway.
>

We always had Apple computers growing up, and there were plenty of games to choose from. Scrolling and simulation games seemed to be my favorites, with Karateka and Swashbuckler in the former category, Tai-Pan and the Ultima series in the latter. I still remember looking for reagents, moongates and members to join my party on the quest for the eight virtues. Eventually, at the same time that consoles were entering into a Silver Age, PC games exploded into all new realms. Civilization turned gamers into either great leaders or despots. 7th Guest was a creepy puzzler that I always found incredibly engaging. Then Myst blew the doors off of everything, with spectacular graphics and amazingly complex puzzles. LucasArts had the most entertaining games, with Sam & Max, Full Throttle, and Grim Fandango. They were cartoony and silly, but often rewarded players who shared that sense of humor.



Nintendo became the heir apparent to Atari, the deluxe set coming with a gun for their Duck Hunt game, and a robot used with a game called Gyromite, but eventually most would simply skip the whole robot set-up and press the darn red and blue buttons themselves. After a while, the gun and robot became albatrosses that Nintendo eventually ditched. Nintendo would eventually grow bigger than Atari, establishing franchise games such as Mario Bros., Legend of Zelda, Mega Man, and Metroid. If nothing else, Mario, originally the unnamed character who would jump over barrels and fireballs in Donkey Kong, has become the most recognizable video game character in existence. It’s a testament to the strength of the games that the Mario legacy continues to this day, both as a foundation for new games, and symbol of nostalgia.



The Sega Genesis intended to muscle into the video game market, having some success in comparing their superior graphics to the NES, and having Nintendo fans, upset over the delays in the Super NES, giving in and purchasing the Genesis instead. Sega had their own symbol to establish, which they did when Sonic the Hedgehog replaced Altered Beast (a personal favorite) as the free game with purchase. Games such as Cadash, Earthworm Jim, Golden Axe, and Mortal Kombat, among other ports of successful coin-ops, had some success, but eventually Super NES would emerge, dominating not only the market, but my video game playing time. Super Mario returned with his own world, and Donkey Kong had his own country. Street Fighter II became the game that was played most often amongst friends, with every player trying to master special moves. The game reached such heights that I bet most guys my age would be able to recite the names of all the characters by heart.



I might be hard pressed to pick a favorite platform so far, but if you were to combine all editions into one, then Playstation would win hands down. The original introduced me to Crash Bandicoot, Wipeout, Resident Evil, Tomb Raider, and the game that took up most of my spare time, Final Fantasy VII. Then, a friend convinced me to give Nintendo another try by picking up the Nintendo 64. I expected to enjoy the 64 version of Super Mario, but was surprised by Mario Kart. GoldenEye was the be-all, end-all of James Bond games, but two games inspired by comic books became my all-time favorites, Turok: Dinosaur Hunter and Shadow Man. The former became a huge bestseller, while the latter languished in obscurity, much like the comic, but was filled with fantastic gameplay.



I now have a PS3, but I rarely use it for video games. I just don’t have the time. I wish I did. I love the Simpsons game, finally putting the beloved cartoon family in a game worthy of their antics. I picked up Marvel: Ultimate Alliance, was impressed by the cut scenes, but the idea of mastering over twenty characters exhausted me before I even began. For pure enjoyment, I find I can never go wrong with the Lego games, whether Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Batman or hopefully more characters to come. The first game I’d play if I had the time, however, would be a baseball game. I’ve had one for nearly every platform listed here, and the current intricacy of baseball games is unbelievable. Again, the problem is time. I’d love to play an entire season all the way through, but by the time I’d be able to, real life players would be traded, series won, and I’d quickly lose interest.



I don’t own a Wii, and never got one of the Microsoft systems. I’ve never played Warcraft or Halo, Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto, Gears of War or God of War, the Sims or Half-Life. For as many video games as I’ve loved, there are hundreds upon thousands of others I’ve never touched. Like all of the subjects I’ll write about in “Things I Miss,” I wish I had the time and resources to experience them again. Oh well, back to Angry Birds and Bejeweled 2.

Things I Miss: "Comic Books"

In honor of this year’s San Diego Comic-Con, at which my own sister has a booth for her soon-to-be published book, I present to you the first installment of “Things I Miss,” a blog theme I hope to be continuing alongside my looks at films, and maybe someday hopefully a return to writing of other kinds. “Things I Miss” will not just profile things that are simply gone from my life, but those things that I fear are never to return, because I’ve learned an important lesson, which is that I can live without them. The first installment is about comic books. When my sister shared a picture of her booth, which was shared by none other than Stan Lee, it sent my mind reeling back to the heady days of collecting comic books. Whether they were 28 pages, 32, or annual-sized 64, I couldn’t get enough. Here, then, is “Things I Miss,” volume the first…



Things I Miss: Comic Books

I used to have a severe habit. No, it wasn’t drugs or Fabergé eggs, it was comic books. Oh, how I loved Wednesdays. Wednesday was always new comic day. Whether it was Golden Apple in Los Angeles, Hi-De-Ho Comics in Santa Monica, the several now defunct stores in northern San Diego County, Wein’s World in Wilmington, Delaware, comic book shops were my weekly dealers. I loved them all, Marvel, DC, and the various independents that seemed to explode in the 90’s. I loved superheroes of the majors, including Batman, Spider-Man, and hundreds of others, but I also admired the stories about average people, stories by Adrian Tomine, Dan Clowes, Chris Ware, and Art Spiegelman. It didn’t matter, as long as they were comics.



I came of age reading the Chris Claremont years of writing X-Men, the George Pérez years of drawing the Avengers, the Walter Simonson Thor years, the John Byrne Fantastic Four run, the Frank Miller years of Daredevil and The Dark Knight Returns, and the releases of the original Watchmen limited series. While it may seem from that statement that I had great taste in comics, I read enough to encompass the stinkers, too. I survived the Secret Wars, whose only purpose seemed to be to give Spidey a new black costume, which turned out to morph into one of the most one-dimensional villains in comics history. I survived the New Universe, a collection of the worst titles Marvel has ever released to the public, including Kickers, Inc., a team of pro football heroes for hire. Ugh. I also toughed it out through the rise of Rob Liefeld, possibly one of the worst pencillers in comics, who had obviously never seen a real girl before, and made up for his inability to draw feet by making biceps the size of Great Danes. (I wanted to choose a Liefeld drawing to accompany this paragraph, but I couldn’t decide between women whose legs were over twice as long as their wasp-waisted torsos, yet always on tippy-toe, men whose pectorals are quadruple D’s, or snarling feral heroes with over 50 teeth in their heads.)



However, it was more than just the successful marriage of story and art that thrilled about trips to comic stores. Part of the romance involves the mindset of the collector. The larger a collection became, the better. My collection wasn’t large by most collectors’ standards, but I was happy with it. In the beginning, I would just go to the comic store, and pick up whatever was on the shelf, but in Delaware, I discovered that some shops employed a subscription method. All I had to do was fill out my free copy of Previews with my selections for that month, then pick up my loot each Wednesday, all copies set aside for me in a nice little cubby, with no danger of missing out on a major seller. I was in geek heaven. This method also allowed me to hone in on titles I might not catch in a quick glance through the racks, debuts that were being heralded as must haves, and reprints of books I had missed out on the first time around.



Of course, comics are all the rage now, thanks in large part to the involvement of Hollywood. The successful reboots of Spider-Man and Batman, as well as the emergence of less popular heroes, such as Iron Man have spurred a comic book renaissance of sorts. But it doesn’t stop there. Adaptations of the independents, like Ghost World, Sin City, American Splendor, V for Vendetta, The Road to Perdition, and A History of Violence have all been stellar films, even if some of them didn’t quite stick to the original story.



So, the question remains, why did I stop collecting comics? Well, the height of my collecting was while I was living in Delaware in the late 90’s. I had a job that, while it wasn’t making my bank vault bust at the seams, certainly seemed to make me comfortable based on the cost of living. The store failed, I had to move back to California to regroup, and the habit just never came back. I have only bought two titles of comic books in the last few years, though none in the last six months. Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s 8th season, in comic book form, and the various ancillary limited series of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower became my last link to the comics world. And now, it seems to be over for good. I’d say that maybe someday, after school, and after I get a job, my passion for comics could return, but I fear that time is gone, never to return.