by Whenever I want to go to the movies I have several options. I can hop on the #7 train to Times Square (midtown Manhattan, endless crowds, mostly tourists with subway maps, three-card monte side shows, neon light overload, six-floor-stadium-sized multiplexes), or I can go to my local movie theatre (underneath the el-train ). Because I live in a Latino neighborhood, most of the movie-goers are Hispanic. Therefore all the Hollywood movies are shown with Spanish subtitles. The problem with subtitles is: I want to read them. I can’t help myself. It’s from all those years in film school watching Fellini, Godard, Truffant, Wenders, and Fassbinder.
I can understand why some people dislike foreign films—you’re too busy reading subtitles to watch the movie. So, I’m sitting in the Spanish theatre watching Terminator Salvation, and for the first twenty-minutes I’m listening in English and reading in Spanish. Wait a minute, what am I’m doing? I speak English. Why am I reading Spanish subtitles?
When I moved to a small town in upstate New York (Oneonta in Otsego county), the only place to go for entertainment was a six-screen multiplex on the other side of Walmart’s parking lot. The projection booths were manned by college students (by law, projectionists are supposed to be union-members of the Theatrical Board. But they didn’t care about unions here). You had one kid handling six projectors, plus the ticket counter. The film never started on time. It was always an extra 20 minute wait listening to obnoxious Broadway tunes. The kid never knew what projector lens to use. The coming attractions were blobs of shadows and light. When the featured film finally did start, the “projectionist” struggled to find the proper lens. The movie zoomed in and out of focus. Half the film was on the ceiling. The sound would cut off and on. Or, they couldn’t find the switch to turn off the Broadway tune. Or, the film started in the middle because they forgot to rewind. I’m not kidding. This happened every single time I went to the movies!
On the opening night of Spielberg’s War of the Worlds my sister and I went to the 9 o’clock show. The theatre was packed. We sat in our seats waiting—thirty minutes, then forty. Finally, I got up out of my seat and found the manager. I asked him when the film was going to start. He said, “Well, we’re waiting for some people to show up and as soon as they arrive, we’ll begin”. Duh?
What are your movie-going experiences? ~ AA