The Cinema Experience: Yay Or Nay? Part 3

Jordan says the good points outweigh the bad, Ian says its all about the magic. Noel disagrees.

Well, it seems our three pronged discussion on the value of the cinematic experience has – as it so often does with your 35mm Heroes – both united and divided us. Jordan was relatively upbeat in his outlook, decrying the behaviour of the great unwashed, but at the same time admitting the positives largely outweigh the negatives. On the other hand, Ian asked us to consider the magic of the theatre and how movies as an art form are steeped in a tradition that home viewing will never be able to replace. Of course, some valid points were made. But the truth is, I have to disagree with both of them.

Now, while I respect entirely the opinion of Jordan and Ian, I also relish the opportunity to take them on every now and again – particularly if it’s something I feel passionately about. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind me picking apart their points, but if they do… well, perhaps Chinstroker vs Punter might open up a third spot for me on their show. Anyway, I can agree with my peers on a number of things. Jordan, for example, highlighted the benefits of seeing films with the right audience for a heightened experience – even singling out Drag Me To Hell as an example of this. I too had the very same experience with that movie and would point to film festivals as another place where the people around you can boost your level of enjoyment. I’ve mentioned it many times, but watching Giallo at FrightFest last year was one example I’ll likely never forget and it is just one of many I can recall. Ian’s article asked me to think back to watching The Fox and The Hound (my earliest moviegoing memory) as a child and consider the pure magic of the experience. Indeed, it’s true that as I sat bolt upright in that Odeon cinema – my fingers sticky from sugary overindulgence and my thoughts fixed only on the troubled friendship of Tod and Copper – I was truly happy. But, like the now crumbling walls of that particular picture house on Oxford Road, nothing lasts forever.

The fact is, while I can always rely on the audiences of my local arthouse cinema to sit back and enjoy a film without causing a disturbance, the same cannot be said for any other venue in my fair city. If I’m hoping to catch the latest British or European movie, The Cornerhouse has me well served. But Splice? Inception? The A-Team? Well, it looks like I’m going to be sat with the shit munchers. It isn’t that my local theaters are over populated, in fact, it’s rare they’re ever more than half full. But this doesn’t stop visiting them from being an intensely stressful experience every single time I go. This morning, as my girlfriend left the house, she asked if I was free to go watch Toy Story 3 this week. Of course, I said, I’ve been looking forward to it, when would she like to go? How about Wednesday evening she enquired. Are you insane? I responded. Orange Wednesdays? Fuck that for a game of toy soldiers. But even when you do your best to turn up at the quietest times – a skill I could match Danny Ocean on in terms of forward planning at this stage – you’re never safe from the interfering masses. I would even argue that a sparsely populated cinema just provides more temptation for the chattering fucktards that are the general public to act up and piss away the £20 I just spent on tickets and food. Usually, if I have to go to the movies, I’ll go to the less popular AMC. Its cheaper, attracts marginally less wankers, and has a front section totally separate from the main body of seats. Here, I can sit close to the screen (which I would rather not do) to be as far away from everyone else as possible. The next 15 minutes will be spent watching everyone walk in, praying that they don’t sit anywhere close to me while looking over at all the potentially problematic patrons and snarling at every rustled plastic bag, slurped soft drink or distant mobile phone glow.

Of course, it’s worse depending on the film you’re watching. Only last week, I finished work early on Friday afternoon to go and watch Inception. Less chance of disturbance at 3:30pm than at 8:30pm right? Wrong. The first 20 minutes of the film (where the audience is largely asked to put most of the pieces together themselves) were ruined by the ongoing conversation being had by two girls who’d had the the bald-faced cheek to sit on the same row as me. Just as I was about to inform the person I was with that I’d either have to move a few rows further forward or see how many nachos it would take to choke a teenager, they left. Apparently, they felt that they’d gotten enough talk time for their £6.70 ticket and were disgusted that Christopher Nolan had actually decided to make a movie with a plot. Good. Fuck off. You’ll find Catherine Zeta Jones and “Justin Bartha from The Hangover” with something more suited to your taste over in screen 3.

But while having to deal with other people is key to my argument against the theatrical experience, it’s not the only point I have to make. Jordan has said that he can put up with this kind of interference, I hope I’ve made it clear that I can not. But Ian also argued that there’s a certain magic to moviegoing that should be preserved, enjoyed and celebrated – but for me this is something that died many years ago. The Odeon cinema I mentioned earlier holds loads of great memories for me. Raiders of the Lost Ark, Ghostbusters, The Karate Kid, even Short Circuit are all flicks I remember seeing there as a child. There was a charm to this three-screen venue that just dripped from the walls, the rich red carpets, the grand interior and art deco cornices. The place smelled like sugar and warm popcorn and was every bit the type of experience every youngster should have when taking in the films they’ll remember for the rest of their life. But thanks to the proliferation of the multiplex, this establishment – built for Paramount Pictures in the 1930s – was boarded up in 2004 having struggled to keep afloat for many years. The problem is, most of today’s cinemas form part of a wider, faceless complex. Usually, this will be a vast trading estate, complete with a rich vein of fast food establishments and acres of luscious car park. But it might also be part of an equally charmless shopping mall or bank of chav-populated bars. This, for me, does not scream cinema magic. In fact it only highlights the fact that for most people, film is as disposable a commodity as all the other corporate-funded, instant gratification fixes that line our streets and city centres.

Perhaps I’m being a little too cynical. But what I can say is I would wholeheartedly welcome any plans to give movies universal format releases that coincide with theatrical launch dates – although this is something I can’t see happening any time soon. Going to the movies is a hateful experience for me on most occasions and the comfort of my home and the entertainment equipment I’ve invested in for it serves as a much better place for me to enjoy, engage with and digest films of all kinds at a time that suits me. My distaste for people in general is something that grows every time I visit the cinema and while vigilante justice is becoming something of a popular pastime here in the UK, the truth is I’m actually a lot more passive than this article would suggest and red really isn’t my colour. So for now, I suppose I have no choice but to continue living the paradoxical life of a film fan and part time critic who actually dreads going to the movies.