Josh Adams
Tucked within the folds of this applesauce brain of mine are a thousand electrical impulses representing 'warm memories'. You know, those images and feelings we associate with certain locations, smells, sights, people, et al? Keeping with that spirit, allow me to expound upon the warm memory of that bemoaned/honored cathedral known as the multiplex. The theater. The cinema. The 'movies'. The obvious smell of burst corn kernels and spilled soda caked onto the floors where a thousand teenagers fumble through their first steps of freedom.
This ‘cathedral’ might not elicit the same warmth from you, but it’s the foundation of my love affair with it. It’s as much a sanctuary as anything in my life, with the films as gospels of art. Sacrilegious? Perhaps, if you're into that kind of thing. Consider the term 'sanctuary', by definition- it can mean a sacred place of refuge, or even asylum. It can be a haven, a place to be at peace. That's usually me when I walk in those doors. I hold reverence for the typical architecture (both vintage and modern), the smells, the sounds, the tastes, the routines, the anticipation, the colors, the trailers, the communal experiences- it gives it all such an oh, I don't know if it's art, but I like it!
Imagine a culture *without* this sanctuary. Film studios would still produce feature-length pictures, they'd still star big-time players, directors would still do their thing, et al. You could pay $25-$50 to stream it at home when it 'opens', whether you have a family of 4 or it's just you. You could control your own environment, sure. Buy those Dollar Tree candies. Make subpar popcorn in your kitchen. Beat the system. Stick it to The Man. Avoid noisy patrons and ne'er-do-wells. Drop a few thousand on a 4K projector and adequate sound system. Subscribe to EVERYTHING. Now you're cooking! But are you?
I love having all those choices, and want everyone to enjoy the same, but…has the theater never quite fascinated you? Have you reached your own personal boundary when it comes to putting up with the public? Can you make better popcorn than a theater-grade machine? (If you do, call me) That’s entirely fair. Stay home if you must! I certainly consume most filmed entertainment at home myself. But isn’t the theater…way cooler?
We do still exist in an era resembling something of a democratized process for consuming art, and I believe audiences are still prevailing in the never-ending battle between the business of filmed media and audiences. Mostly. Our choices still technically matter. Sure, studios initially gave us a few streaming options, and customers reduced or eliminated cable or dish service altogether. After all, most older TV shows and thousands of movies are now widely available on physical media, and we’ve seen the writing on the wall for cable and satellite services for years. Why *wouldn't* we cut the cord?
Now? With great democratization comes great responsibility. We’ve got 83,000 of those streaming choices, most with a price to pay, and we're seemingly hurtling towards the same price crunch as with cable. If you want a channel or show or movie, you can likely watch it, but with subscription tiers, and biannual notices from Netflix & Friends about price increases due to “reasons”. If you want to own the show or movie, be prepared to jump through same-but-different hoops- exorbitant markups, fewer special features, generally bland cover art, and less inventory. If you buy digital copies, be prepared to deal with potential issues involving the host site, licensing, streaming problems, or even internet connectivity gaps.
I fully understand these conveniences of the digital age, be it the home theater or the ‘neat’ arrangement of having your media in a tidy, compact virtual library via a Vudu or Plex account. Just try to keep maintaining an ‘analog’ relationship with filmed entertainment. Enjoy your conveniences, but allow yourself space to maintain autonomy as a consumer and owner of copies of art. As unfortunate as it is, I believe The Powers That Be (TPTB) would love to transition most of their products/art to a consumption interface that reduces the pesky cost of film exhibition and performing things like ‘customer service’, aka human interaction. They’d all sport a tremendous woody at the thought of relegating the middle man (theaters) to the position of cultural gimmick, or ‘for special occasions’. Remember, Netflix Chief Content Officer Ted Sarandos once claimed that cinema is an "outdated model" and "out of step with the consumer experience". This is the same company that just tried to buy Warner Brothers. Sorry, I simply don’t trust TPTB to care about relics like ‘physical copies’ of media, or public art forums like theaters. You know, things consumers still care about.
We've all managed to outlive Blockbuster, Family Video, Hollywood Video, and every other late-fees-are-profit business model, and even the now outdated former convenience of Redbox. Yet, we still go to the theater. We still seek out communal experiences, and the cinematic arena, like the concert hall and sports venue, is still a space to collaborate with humans for artistic or athletic performance. All tickets and concessions for these events are ‘expensive’ for a family, and I realize that. What I’m asking is that consumers not eschew the theater altogether. Remember that it offers a unique platform for filmed performance that cannot easily be duplicated.
Why the worry? Why focus on what we can't do or control? Well, it’s about control. From my point of view, purchasing a physical copy of a piece of media or art represents an obvious sign of ownership, a claim to the copy of the original art. Digital copies are subject to a variety of restrictions, physical copies are not. As a collective, let’s not allow the hardline businesspeople narrow our scope of consumption to merely the digital arena. That’s where they have the most control.
No matter the number of bad experiences I’ve had in the theater, no matter the technical problems, the occasional unhappy youngster working behind the counter, the disruptive patron, the exorbitant prices- it’s an easy trade to make in exchange for the possibility of feeling that magic. That ‘magic’ isn’t just nostalgia for me- the theater is woven into the fabric of my existence. I don’t just recall it- I *feel* that burst of excitement from sitting in the back seat as my parents drove to Milan, Illinois, nearing the dedicated right turn lane for the entrance to the theater, where if one drove into the lane, no doubt a movie was forthcoming. I ran unbound from the car through parking lot and up the stairs, holding the door for my family before allowing the beautiful waft of popcorn to overtake my senses. That excitement of holding a physical ticket was just as satisfying as getting a Chicago Cub in a baseball card pack. That anticipation of walking down a ramp into a cavernous 500-seat theater with a huge, wide screen was infectious. The protracted gazes at the ceiling and twinkling lights mesmerized me. The anticipation of the ‘tiny movies’ (trailers), well before the age of the Internet when we came to expect them, instead of completely surprising us that a sequel was forthcoming (looking at you, Terminator 2 and Alien 3). The sensation of walking out of front theater exits into the blinding afternoon sun, or the crisp fall evening. The possibility of getting to have fun food afterwards, and how I was still deeply immersed in the story, wanting to talk about it with Mom.
All these ‘warm memories’ played on repeat when my son and I started going together. His experience was undoubtedly different in part, but the range from anticipation to disappointment to immersion in the afterglow remained the same. I want that for me, for him, for all lovers of filmed art- to keep it that way, to maintain some semblance of ownership, authorship, and autonomy from film studios and businesspeople. We’ve earned it, and no streaming service CEO should ever badmouth the theater experience into oblivion, or keep us from owning the art we love.