Big Picture Big Sound

Let me start with an obvious statement: as a film critic I see a lot of movies. A lot; it's possible I average one per day. I'm not always in the theater, mind you. In fact, and I know this sounds contradictory, it would be my preference never to set foot in a movie theater again.

Like airline travel, the movie-going experience, particularly in a place like New York City, has become a grossly underwhelming, sub-par experience. While the cost of going to movies has steadily risen, the quality of the theater experience is at an all time low. Of the last ten movies I've seen in theaters, five of them have had some sort of technical problem which affected the presentation of the film. With odds like that, I'm sure I'm not the only one.

1. "The Village" (Cineplex Odeon, Long Island): There was something wrong with what I saw during M. Night Shyamalan's moody monsters-in-the-woods parable, and it wasn't the protracted 'twist' ending. There was something on star Bryce Dallas Howard's face. It was dark and bulbous - only about an inch high…wait, now it's on William Hurt's face. No, now it's up Adrian Brody's nose. Ah, I see. It's a Gummy Bear. Some brilliant audience member from a previous showing, perhaps bored of Mr. Shyamalan's brooding theatrics, decided to express their distaste for the film, and perhaps the theater, by throwing the sticky candy treats at the screen. And there they stayed. I have no idea how long they were up there or whether they were ever removed because I never went back to that theater. It would have been nice, however, if someone in the management of that facility had, oh I don't know, maybe looked at the screen at some point. It was, let's just say, very noticeable.



2. "Finding Neverland" (AMC, NYC): Johnny Depp's J.M. Barrie may have helped Kate Winslet's ailing spinster find her inner child, but I never found out what that clicking sound coming from the projection booth was. Nor did I appreciate the complete loss of audio during the emotional final fade-to-white.



3. "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" (Loews, NYC): This is probably my favorite (story, not movie). What was a visually stunning, if emotional bereft, experience suddenly got a lot more interesting when the main characters ventured to Nepal. During this sequence, a strangely beautiful orange glow filled the screen. It started from the center of the frame and gradually grew until…oh, wait. The film's on fire. In fact, it burned in half; the movie was stopped, the lights came up and, after about five minutes of sitting in silence, we were told it would take twenty minutes to fix the problem, during which time we were welcomed to have a free small coke. On the plus side, the theater did fix the problem in twenty minutes. On the minus side, that was the most exciting part of the film. It is my hope that the irony of an entirely digital movie set in the 1940s being transferred to film only to have the film disintegrate is not lost on anyone.



4. "Motorcycle Diaries" (Independent Cinema, NYC): Just to prove that these problems are not solely attributed to the monolithic multiplexed monstrosities that plague the countryside, nor are they relegated to churned-out Hollywood blockbusters, Walter Sallas' wonderful Che Guevara biopic was shown at a small independent cinema (and you must call them "cinemas", right?) with a yellow line running down the middle of the entire first reel.



5. "Team America: World Police" (Loews, NYC): Perhaps the worst offender of the lot, and I'm not talking about Trey Parker and Matt Stone's blandly satirical marionette extravaganza. The opening ten minutes of commercials were shown with no picture. Normally I wouldn't complain about that, but there was an audio track played at higher-than-normal volume blasted at the audience. Then, when the previews started, people began to get restless. Finally, someone left the theater to inform the management, after which an employee was sent to fix the problem. Eventually, the picture came on. But it was pointed at the front row of the audience, not the movie screen. Slowly, the picture was adjusted. It crept up and up, until it was about three-quarters of the way to the top of the screen. And…there is stayed. For the whole movie. No one ever fixed it any further. We watched three-quarters of the picture and left the rest to our imagination.

Movie theaters have one job: to show movies. That's it. That's the extent of it. Not to show commercials, not to sell T-shirts or lattes. Hell, I don't really even need them to sell popcorn -especially not at $6 for a small! And I certainly don't need them to sell chicken fingers or nachos. Nor do I want to sit next to someone who thought those would make good movie treats.

Let me say it again: the movie theater's sole job is to show movies. Period. And they're failing. They are failing at their jobs.

Is it not bad enough that audiences are made to pay $10 to sit through ten minutes of commercials (by the way, when did this become okay?) but they also have to gamble that money away on the chance that they'll actually get to see what they paid for?

And who's there to help these poor audiences when problems arise? No one, of course; the process is automated, so no staff is needed once the crowds are herded into their seats. Inevitably some poor, intrepid soul has to leave the theater and find an usher who in turn must get on a walkie-talkie to find someone in charge somewhere in the multiplex. Meanwhile, precious seconds of "Alexander" are ticking away.

To what can we attribute this lack of quality?

This startling lack of quality can be attributed to a few simple factors:

• Dude, where's my money?: Considering movie prices have tripled (!) in my lifetime, I would think, if anything, the service at the theater would be three-times better. Of course, that's silliness (sorry, it's probably the years of staring at flickering lights in the dark). No, I think it's safe to say the extra money we're paying is not going into the theater facilities or its employees. No surprise there.



• Excessive Venues: The sheer size of some of these theaters requires higher prices and shorter movies (more showtimes=more money) to recoup the cost of the facility.



• Staffing: Since the theaters are largely automated, the guy who rips the tickets and stocks the napkins can also play the role of projectionist. Of course, I'm not sure what that job role entails or what its training requirements are. Yes, gone are the romanticized days of the wise old projectionist from "Cinema Paradiso".

Look, I'm not anti-progress. I'm just against you having to take the responsibility to insure that the movie is shown correctly. Remember when going to the movies was fun? Now it's a chore. I understand that it may not take much to turn on a projector today, but here's an idea: have someone actually in the projection booth at least for the first ten to fifteen minutes of the film. Just, y'know, to make sure it's actually working? That's all I ask. If theater owners assigned one employee to spend fifteen minutes in the theater at the start of each movie, would that throw their delicate business model into complete chaos? I would hope not.

To top it all off, the news is filled with constant whining from the film industry about movie piracy. Well, guys, I'm not saying stealing is right, but is it any wonder that your audience is rebelling? Look at how you treat them. Not only is the quality of your films lacking (that's expected from Hollywood and, really, that's problem enough) but the entire experience is poor. How about showing audiences that they are more than just cash machines? How about taking a little pride in your work? Do you expect audiences to shed a tear that "Van Helsing" didn't make enough millions of dollars on its first weekend if it was out-of-focus? Should it matter to us if the studio recoups its $100 million from "Troy" if the sound cuts out half way through the opening battle? Never mind the fact that both those films are complete rubbish.

Now, listen. I love movies. I always have. For as long as I can remember I've devoured any movie I could get my hands on. People come to me to ask what movies to see and I'm always happy to give an opinion. In fact, I only started this whole reviewing routine because I was tired of repeating myself. It's for this reason that I become particularly upset when I see audiences getting treated poorly. These people paid their hard-earned money for a little escape - most likely to forget what they had to endure to earn said money. The movie theater is supposed to take away that pain.

Is it any wonder there has been such a rise in the amount of affordable home theater systems on the market? How tough is it to show a movie? I've set up a mini-screening room in my apartment (if you've seen a Manhattan apartment, you understand the emphasis is on the word "mini"). I show movies for myself and my friends all the time - anything to avoid the theaters. So I think I know what it takes to show a movie.

What are these precious components? Let's find out...

Turns out, it's not much:

• Comfort. Does everyone have a place to sit? Can they see the screen without squinting or craning their neck? Is their seat covered in gum or soda or child urine? Is the air conditioning on? Good. How high? No, that's too high, turn it down; we're not storing meat in here. Ok, good. Step one is completed.



• Darkness. This would seem pretty obvious, but why is that bright red Exit sign pointed directly at my eye? I'm all for safety, but I'm pretty sure there's a way to place Exit signs so as not to interfere with the film. I've seen it done, really. Look it up. Oh and that switch that turns off the light when they movie starts? Could you make sure that actually happens so that I and my fellow patrons don't have to scream "lights!" until someone hears us? Thanks.



• Silence. I'm not talking about audience noise here. It's not the theater's fault that the guy next to me won't shut up or that someone forgot to silence a cell phone. (I appreciate the cute "Inconsiderate Cell Phone Guy" ads, but people are too distracted by them to actually turn off their phones. Just stop everything and put up a message saying "SILENCE YOUR PHONES". That's all.) However, I do expect the theater to make sure I don't hear the explosions from "Blade: Trinity" while I'm watching "Spanglish". Some of these theaters are built so quickly and cheaply that the booming soundtrack from the latest Bruckheimer bombast can make "Sideways" feel like a music video.



• Sound. Now that we have Silence, let's make sure we're hearing what we're supposed to. This is in a way related to Comfort: if the sound is too loud, comfort goes right out the Exit door. If the sound isn't loud enough, the movie is not the immersive experience that the filmmakers have taken pains to insure.



• Picture. Ah yes, the old oft-forgotten standby. What's a movie without a picture? I guess a radio show. But that's not what the audience is here to see. Again, it's pretty simple: when you start showing the film, all I ask is that you give a cursory glance out from behind your crossword puzzle to make sure the film is actually rolling. You know, just to make sure you've delivered what you promised; that the audience is actually getting what they paid for.

That's all. Not too tough, right? Why, it's been going on since the olden days, since before they even had artificial, partially hydrogenated butter flavoring to season the day-old popcorn substitute.

I'm not even going to get into the quality of the film itself. That's not the fault of the theater - though it could be argued that the plague of high-rent multiplexes is directly proportional to the perpetuation of crappy big budget spectacles needed to support them. But that's a different story. The point here is, if you're not able to meet the above five criteria, close your doors. Shut down. You're not doing anyone a service. You're just hurting the film-going public and, for their $10, they deserve a lot more.

I don't want to make it sound like audiences are free of blame. After all, they keep going to these tacky, mediocre "theaters". So, the answer is pretty simple: take a stand; don't go. Obviously, I'm not saying don't see movies. That's crazy-talk. I'm saying see them the way they're meant to be seen. Seek out quality theaters. Nothing forces a business to take notice more than a lack of income. First and foremost these theaters are businesses. They're in the business of showing movies; some have just lost their way.

As an alternate idea for frustrated moviegoers, save money and invest in a good TV and surround sound system. I'm not trying to break anyone's bank, I'm just saying, if you love movies and it's within your means, do it. I know, there are reams of data out there about the best high-end audio/video equipment, some of it right here on Big Picture Big Sound, but honestly you can get a lot of enjoyment for relatively little cash, as long as you cover the basics. Remember: comfort, darkness, silence, sound, picture. That's it.

For more details, see our article "Buying a Low Budget/High Performance Home Theater Receiver and Speakers" - skip the popcorn at a few movies and you've already saved hundreds of dollars.

And, for god's sake, turn off your cell phones.