Devalued

It started out as a tweet and a rebuttal (take a bow Mr. B1rd, he's single ladies).  After watching two big spectacle movies, one in a theatre (Thor: The Dark World 2013), the other at home on Blu Ray (The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey 2013), I mentioned how quickly the two movies began to fade from memory.  The comment that came back was maybe things would be different if I stayed still instead of wandering around maybe I'd retain more.
Okay, I have a child sized bladder ... shaddup.
Upon reflection (no, not about my child sized bladder) he's partly right, I did not give at least one of the two movies my complete devotion.  But there's the rub my friend.  Why didn't I give the movie my complete attention?  I am a supposed amateur cinephile after all.  I paid a university money to teach me about it.
I'll admit it, I have devalued the movie going experience, but why?
The movie going experience is the descendant of the theatre experience with less gaslight and more popcorn.  Dependent on where you lived you had limited choice of what you could see, when you could see it and where you saw it.  Seeing a movie in the days of theatre was part chore, part reward.  You gathered the troops, moved from point A to B, got there in time to get the coveted middle/middle seats, watched the movie and then went home full of comments and questions.  And if that movie was Star Wars(1977) you then played lightsabre fights until parents determined enough was enough.
I bet now you're thinking,"Oh look at this old fart, discovered the internet so he could tell kids to get the heck off his virtual  lawn.  Man, what a cinematic curmudgeon."
Well, duh!  Look at the blog's name.
Hear me out as I continue this magical blustering tour.  If I was truly timelocked in my opinion about movie going then these words would of been published in a 'Zine upon the mass marketing of the VCR and movie rental stores, but I had the grandest of times turning the TV to the proper channel/setting, pressing play and hunkering down to a movie, or two, or maybe a marathon on the weekend.  The movie was still the center of the event though, alone or with friends.  Alone, it let you revisit movies you loved, or introduced you to movies you'd never see at the movie theatre, either due to their age, or they catered to a non-mainstream audience.  If it wasn't for the videocassette I would not have been introduced to Wells, Kurosawa, Hitchcock, Kubrick until much later in life and that is a depressing thought indeed.  Socially, movie nights at a friends house brought fun movies to masses, brought boys together with girls, but the event still had the movie as the fire we all sat around, except in this case the fire told the story and we chatted about the fire when it died out.
So what happened?  I now have access to multiplex after multiplex, I have on demand, netflix, streaming, you tube, laptops, tablets, smartphones, HD TVs, I have it all.  I can buy, rent or find movies that I would never had the chance to see.  The cinematic world is my oyster and I'm too lazy to shuck them.
I think movies are having a hard time being the center, and movies deserve being the center of attention. They have become so accessible that they're not always the event you are excited about.  They're used as filler while you're on the bus, at a cafeteria, while doing chores, because they're so dang easy to find and watch.  You are no longer watching the movie, you're using the movie as filler.  Add to that the simple fact that priorities shift when you get older.  Unfortunately, my paycheck doesn't come from watching movies so to get time to watch them I often end up multitasking, I'm not giving them the attention they deserve.
So I need to make a change, I need to value the movie watching experience more than I have been of late.
One - Put time aside to watch the thing, start to finish, even if it's got to be 10 a.m. on a Sunday morning.
Two - Watch it on a screen it deserves to be watched on, theatre or surround sound TV, not a phone, not a tablet or laptop (unless travelling)
Three - My default movie setting should be movies as art, not commerce.  It'll be hard to turn off the cynicism, but I need to remember the creativity that goes into making film, not just the big bucks.
Four - Talk about movies.  Chat with my friends.  Invite the to watch a film with me and make time to talk about them after.  If I can't kidnap a pal, then listen to others talk about it, podcasts, websites, other blogs. Use my laptop not for watching movies, but for enjoying movies.
Movies can take you to other world's, other places, other times, but you got to give them the chance to do it. Seriously we all need time away, movies are a pretty cheap ticket, so go enjoy the trip, send me a postcard.

Chem Trailers

Growing up there was nothing I loved more than seeing movie trailers before the movie, I remember very few of them, but it was like getting a cinematic Sears Christmas Wishbook.  The one trailer I remember was probably the scariest movie moment I ever had, and will ever have.  My mom came with me to the Arcturus Theatre back home to see Gus, a Disney flick about a donkey drafted by a college football team to kick field goals.  Yes, its a real movie, no is not a fever dream, look it up on IMDB.  I'll wait.
....
I accept your apology.
Anyway the theatre decided it was perfectly time to play before an audience of rugrats the trailer for Burnt Offerings, an adult haunted house movie.  So here I was, bright eyed and bushy tailed, waiting for a donkey to kick a football and eventually sign up with the Steelers and become a member of the beloved Steel Curtain.  Okay the last part is the present day.  ITS BEEN A TERRIBLE SEASON, WE NEED A NEW KICKER! Sitting in the theatre watching that trailer scared me.  I had nightmares for weeks, and decades later it still stands as my scariest cinematic experience, and this is coming from the guy who watched Gary Busey in Silver Bullet. Gary Busey!!!!  I eventually saw the movie and it was kind of meh, but for me its not the same movie as the one I saw in that trailer.  In fact, with the fog of many decades blurring my judgement, I don't think the trailer actually gave away much of the movie.  It still conveyed the elements of fear and terror, but it didn't give anything away.  They felt like two sides of an awesome coin.
I think this affected me, because I love trailers, well more classic ones.  I own the 42nd Street Forever collection and I can lose hours of time on the You Tubes playing trailer treasure hunt.  Some are fun, some are amazing, some are frikkin' works of art.  Just for fun, pop on You Tube and look for trailers of films from your childhood.  If you want to peek into my twisted psyche try Halloween (1978), Exorcist (1973), or Dawn Of The Dead (1978), or for a laugh Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), Airplane! (1980) or Strange Brew (1983).  All great movies, all with really good trailers.
And that's why I feel bad for the modern trailer.  You're no longer wacky, quasi-artistic, teasin' two minute tempatations, hooking the viewer into spending money a few weeks in the future.  Now you just give away the story, all the jokes, or all the tentpole moments while being sandwiched between actual commercials and the movies the audience has been waiting 20 minutes to see.  I feel bad for you modern movie trailer, the neglected middle child of the movie going experience.  Now all trailers aren't bad, but your lumped in with so much crap, being played for an impatient audience who'd rather get the last text message in than watch you.
But you can be fixed.  Firstly, get rid of those commercials, we didn't pay $12+ bucks to watch a big TV show.  Secondly, let the film maker be creative with the trailer.  Let them play Hitchcock, or let them work with someone who knows how to tease with two minutes of film.  Let them use footage that won't be in the finished product, let then shoot something original.  Let them tempt you with an appetizer, not a sampler f the main course.  Save the money shot for opening weekend reviews, not six month before.
Gimme Burnt Offerings, gimme something that'll stick in my head until opening night.