14 June 2001

I took the red eye… it worked.  They’re pretty red.  There doesn’t seem to be any news anyway.  And I owe y’all a Civilian Voices.  So, here you go again…

AB Negative writes:  “Am I the only person who is very worried about middle-of-the-road hackmeister Joel Schumacher directing the film version of Jack Kerouac's On The Road? The book is an important work of post-WWII countercultural literature, and demands a respectful film adaptation. So why did Coppola sign on a guy whose major artistic contributions to our world are Chris O'Donnell in a rubber suit and Rob Lowe's embarrassing sax-miming in St. Elmo's Fire?

Judging by Schumacher's career output, his version On The Road movie will probably be nothing but Billy Crudup and Brad Pitt listening to jazz, beating bongos, and going, "crazy, man!" One thing is certain: it'll pale in comparison to Terry Gilliam's totally gonzo Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas. Another book destroyed by Hollywood...”

Double-D writes:  “The first time I saw Moulin Rouge (I've seen it 5 times total) was opening night at the Avco with the entire audience clapping after every musical number.  It was, by far, the best movie going experience I've ever had because the audience was all in it together, seeming to feel what I felt. When it was over, my friend wanted to discuss and compare notes about the sets or the acting or whatever, and all I wanted to do was get back in line and see it again.  I didn't want to talk about the overwhelming emotions it provoked, I just wanted to continue to feel them.  Days later I wrote a review for my friends back east and it took me hours to come up with any words.  I wanted them to love it as much as I did, and now after some of them have seen it, and didn't feel as intensely, I have to admit that my friends have disappointed me.

To be fair, I would have to say that they feel the same about me and what their passions are.  Someone finds solace in gardening and all I find in it are bugs.  One friend reads a book about the plight of migrant farmers and she's so blown away she can barely tell me the title.  I read it and I'm bored out of my mind, wondering why we are friends at all.  I sometimes see that disgusted look that I must give to people when they just don't get something that seems so obvious to me.   I have been telling my friends that movies are my religion for years now and they basically think I'm a loon who should get more hobbies.  I rely on movies for comfort, I trust the emotions they invoke.  But mostly, I have faith in them. I have faith that sitting in a dark theater as the lights go down and the opening credits come up that for two hours, nothing else in the world is as important as what's on that screen. And it doesn't even matter if the movie disappoints because there is always another movie to see, another chance to find greatness or the meaning of life.

A coworker and I both love movies more than anything, though we love completely different things about them.  I am a dialogue person while he is a sound/sight person.  One scene of any given Bette Davis movie might be rewound 10 times in a row because it's so intense while he will replay the same explosion of a Die Hard movie over and over just to hear the sound of the bombs.  We connect to completely different aspects of film, but we also respect each other's preferences because we both have the same feelings about movies as a whole in the end:  awe and love.  What else matters?

So to give my answer to your question:  I think movies are beautiful because we love them.”

LT writes:  “Here's something I find truly vexing... judging by the large number of people I know from diverse backgrounds, locations, and demographic groups who absolutely loved Moulin Rouge-- people who have gone to see it multiple times, taken friends with them, spread the word far and wide -- I expected Moulin to do much better at the box office than it has.  Its first weekend was pretty impressive, in my opinion, considering the kind of competition it had... but it's getting clobbered this week and will likely continue to get clobbered this coming weekend.  What's going wrong here?  Is my circle of acquaintances that much more sophisticated than the general moviegoing public?  I thought they were pretty representative, actually...  and I had high hopes of Moulin becoming a sleeper hit instead of some "respectable failure" of an art-house movie. 

So much for revolutionizing modern American cinema and reviving the musical form... I guess, like Singin' in the Rain, we'll have to wait a decade or two for Moulin to get the appreciation it deserves.  Maybe it's my own fault for putting too much faith in word-of-mouth... or for thinking that maybe, juuuuust maybe, the American public was ready for a movie that doesn't involve car crashes, explosions, fart jokes, or Halle Berry's bare boobs.”

No K writes:  “Most movies are beautiful simply because we love them. And most movies aren't worthy of that love; at least not on a long term basis. I won't begrudge anyone their one night stands. 

The rest are beautiful, and that is why I love them.

Movies from Benji to Star Wars entertained me as a child. The love affair began with the movies I couldn't see -- the R-rated. I credit my father, because he'd come home and tell me about those movies in concise and provocative terms. Even today, I experience movies on those same terms.

The movies I love all have one thing in common: honesty. Without honesty, a film is entertainment or exploitation, which are not necessarily great crimes. 

Film violence is an excellent barometer of honesty. Chopper was horribly violent, and exceptionally honest. The killings and beatings were depicted with accuracy, careful to contrast fantasy with reality. More importantly, the film illuminated the origins of violence.

The average filmgoer may or may not care whether a movie depicts the origins of violence. I think it's beautiful of a film to try. We need to understand how a misguided 25 year-old war hero with no criminal record becomes the nation's most reviled mass murderer.

Natural Born Killers is an example of a movie devoid of honesty. The film's version of our society as a tabloid informed, pornoviolent, and celebrity obsessed was superficial. We are those things, but Stone's fallacy is that there is no medium in history that exploits violence to the degree that movies do. Does an educated man really expect us to believe that MTV techniques don't glamorize violence?

There are times when we need someone pretty to whisper sweet lies in our ears. Those affairs tend to end ugly. That's why I rent the video before I buy it.”

The Lodger writes:  “I just wanted to say that I agree, for the most part, with your rant in today's column.  Sometimes movies are an escape for me.  I guess being a quiet person who does not always have the ability to express his feelings, movies are great because they can provoke all of your feelings as a reaction to them.  I guess the last movie which provoked that kind of feeling was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; I remember talking to my younger brother afterwards and saying I needed sometime so I could let the movie sink in.  

Yes, it is a kind of drug but if you go with someone who likes movies a lot, you can have great, almost bonding conversations after that you won't forget.  (Bergman's Face to Face comes to mind.)  That's the appeal.”

And this from Special K:  “The AMC experiment is definitely worth watching, because I've been saying for years that movie theaters and/or studios need to encourage and reward frequent movie goers.  I live in New York City where ticket prices are up to 10 dollars in some places and average about $8.50 everywhere else, and matinee prices are ancient history.  So I've become selective in what movies I go to see.  I used to go to two or more movies a week.  Now I'm lucky if I go see two movies a month.  I end up waiting for them to debut on cable or DVD.  

The secret is to come up with an incentive plan that makes people eager to go see as many movies as possible, that puts money in the theater's pocket, and adds value.  Some kind of frequent-viewer card or something.  For an annual fee (ten bucks maybe?) a moviegoer would get a card from AMC or Loews or General Cinema or some other theater franchise and they could use that card at any one of their chain theaters anywhere in the country.  The more you go, the cheaper the ticket price.  Or, charge the movie-goer full price but add points for every ticket purchased which can be redeemed for concession snacks, DVDs, studio merchandise, big prizes, whatever.” 

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