A Day At The Movies

2005 has not exactly been a banner year for the movies. I think the box office stats bear me out on this. The problem, of course, is that Hollywood insists on producing tripe and marketing it as truffles. Totally unnecessary sequels (many to movies which never should have been made in the first place), unimaginative and endless reworkings of the same tired old cliches, and REMAKES, which stand indicted in their own little corner of cinematic hell.
There are two classes of remakes: those which serve only to remind you how good the original was and how sacrilegious it is to alter so much as a single frame...or no-more-palatable second helpings of film shit-kebab. (Did we really need a reimagining of The Fog?)
It is therefore not a coincidence that I have seen very few releases this year. Our usual practice is to wait until there are two movies we want to see--it's often, but not always, one for her and one for me--and make a day of it, starting with the earliest showing around noon and getting out in time for dinner.
We've been very lucky with this approach. For reasons entirely unknown and unknowable to me, it seems socially unacceptable to attend matinee screenings. Even when they used to be cheaper, it was possible to watch number-one box-office smashes on their first weekends in a nearly empty theatre...if you went at noon. You'd drive into the cineplex parking lot at 11:20 a.m. and be stunned at the sheer number of people standing in line...only to find out that three quarters of them were buying tickets for that evening's shows.
Strange, bizarre behaviour. You want to tell people that Galaxy Theatre is not a drive-in: it does not have to be dark outside for the movie to play; that in fact no film is ever in any way diminished by the time of day at which it screens.
But you just shut up, because you like mostly vacant theatres.

Our last two-pack consisted of War Of The Worlds (one of the most unnerving moviegoing experiences I've ever had, right up until the abrupt and Pollyanna ending, which almost ruined the show for me) and Madagascar (not a horrible movie, but probably at the bottom of my animated movie pile). Since then, all has been prelude to what we saw today: two movies I've been eagerly awaiting for a year.

FIRST ACT

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire breaks some unwritten law of moviemaking. It's axiomatic that sequels must get progressively weaker, and all but a certainty that the fourth movie of any series will outright stink. There are, of course, exceptions, but their rarity only enforces the rule. So what a pleasant shock to find out this fourth installment of a beloved series is far and away the best of them so far.
It's not letter-perfect, mind you: the pacing was far too rushed in some places. But perhaps that's inevitable when you've allotted fourteen seconds of running time for every page of text. Vast chunks of book were jettisoned, some regrettably. Count me among those who would have liked to see the Weasleys meet Dudley Dursley. And call me a sports fanatic, but Quidditch played at a World Cup level would have been a sight. Then again, Hermione's championing of elvish welfare came off too preachy by half in the book: not every cut nicked bone.
Some of the condensings actually improved on Rowling's vision. My friend Jen has already mentioned this, and what she said was spot-on: given Neville Longbottom's abilities, it was only natural that he be Harry's benefactor with regards to the second task of the tournament.
As for the film itself, the special effects were miles ahead of those in any of the previous films. The acting was also several notches higher. Two of the leads, Radcliffe and Watson, have credible futures outside the franchise. (Rupert Grint--Ron--not so much.) Daniel Radcliffe forcibly reminds me of an old friend of mine named Kieron...it colours my perceptions of his acting ability, but objectively speaking he's improved immensely since Philosopher's Stone. So has Emma Watson, who is, you'll pardon the Humbert Humbertism, um, hot.

All around wonderful movie, and I look forward to the next one.

INTERMISSION

Look, I know that entering the concession area of a Galaxy theater is akin to entering a different galaxy altogether, one in which dollars are as pennies back on Earth. I thought I was prepared for this. But the prices for popcorn and pop have gotten so ridiculous, so out of hand, that I can't help but believe they're trying to encourage people to sneak their own food in. Our food cost just shy of $18.00...for one pop and two popcorns. That's easily a four hundred percent markup and completely unconscionable. We will never pay that much again, believe me.

SECOND ACT

I like musicals.
There, I said it, and my wrists didn't sag.
I loved Evita, both the stage and screen versions. I adored Phantom of the Opera. I bawled most of the way through Les Miserables, prompting my then-girlfriend to denigrate my manhood all over her residence floor at Humber College, in turn prompting quite a few women to express some interest in me. Chess was sublime; Fiddler on the Roof fantastic.
Okay, maybe my wrists sag a little. Tho thue me, thailor.
One of my closest friends gave me a burned copy of the original Broadway recording of Rent last year and I've been singing along ever since. The music to this is simply captivating, and it hints at emotional turmoil that is the hallmark of any decent stage production. When I found out they were making a movie of Rent, I jumped over the moon. It truly lit my candle. When I discovered Chris Columbus was directing, it gave me some pause. Home Alone was one of exactly two movies I've ever walked out on. He redeemed himself, true, with the first two Harry Potter films, but Hogwarts is a long, long way from the gritty streets of New York City. Could Columbus remain true to Jonathan Larson's vision, or would he Giuliani up the streets of his Alphabet City and make the production childish and child-friendly?
I've never actually seen the staged version, so I can't say for sure. But I'd like to think Larson--who died of an aneurysm just before his play went big--would have been happy with what has become of his masterwork.
The singing is top-notch. This is only to be expected with most of the original cast having made the jump to the screen intact. Rosario Dawson, while adequate, was not quite up to the vocally demanding role of Mimi, in my opinion--her voice lacked edge--though her dancing and general deportment was stellar. The other newcomer, Tracie Thoms, nailed Joanne Jefferson and gave a whiz-bang performance.
The story is emotionally draining. For those who don't know, it concerns a group of eight 'bohemian' friends living, loving, and dying on the streets of New York in 1989-90. Thankfully, Columbus made little discernable effort to sanitize the original stage play for the screen: life is lived out in all its dirty detail. Four of the friends are living with AIDS; six of them are dirt-poor. All of them struggle, in their own ways, to define themselves and to make something lasting out of their too-brief lives. You'll laugh and cry and live and die with them, and in the end you will feel--or at least I did--both hollowed out and filled up in equal measure. Having seen this movie, I now want to see the play. Badly.

All in all, a great day at the movies. Both films are highly recommended.