Talking About the Movies

With Frank Beaver

"Is This Where We Came In?"

As with just about everything else in life, movies are forever evolving. Those of us old enough to remember the film culture of the 1940s and '50s know that much has changed in the way filmgoers approach this most populist of art-entertainment mediums.

Back in the 1950s, when members of my family wanted to see a film, we tended to just pop into one of the local theaters—never mind that the feature might be half over. Most other people I knew did the same. We sat through to the end, watched the previews and trailers (they really did "trail" the film in this case) and waited for the feature to start again.

When familiar material in the film's plot was noticed, someone would turn and ask: "Is this where we came in?" When all agreed, we got up and exited the theater.

That kind of movie attendance doesn't happen today, in part because of the way film programs are arranged with lengthy breaks between showings and more significantly because everyone I know wants to see a film straight through from its beginning to its end.

I've often wondered why filmgoers used to be able to enjoy films with their endings and beginnings watched in reverse. Was it the films? Was it us? Were the routines of our lives such that we didn't feel the need to adhere to narrative continuity or film schedules? Did we even check the schedules? At any rate that culturally telling phrase "Is this where we came in?" seems to have disappeared for good.

Now the way filmgoers attend movies seems to be evolving significantly again. Widely reported figures show a worrisome downturn in box-office ticket sales while rentals/sales of DVD's for home viewing have skyrocketed. Statistics reveal that DVD movie consumption has increased more than 600% since the year 2000. That's cause for alarm for filmmakers, distributors and exhibitors, who count on theater patronage as a major part of the financial success of a motion picture, especially a big-budget, high-spec product.

The sag in box-office intake, which has been occurring for some time now, raises questions about the sources of the crisis. Is it the DVD's, dovetailed with the proliferation of home-entertainment centers? Is it us, the potential filmgoing public? Is it the movies themselves? Probably the answer is: a whole lot of each of the above.

When Robert Altman came to campus in the 1980's to direct the Stravinsky Opera, The Rake's Progress, he also taught a course on his large, diverse body of films. I asked him about his likes and dislikes in then-current American movies. He responded that he hadn't been going to that many because most were to him like going to dinner and being served a skimpy meal—'an hour later you're hungry again.' That was the '80s.

What I see today are even more films that provide casual, escapist entertainment, films that appropriately have been co-opted for home viewings on DVD, where they're seen with minimal drain on the family budget. Such films include: the ever-present animated feature; the young-star, teen-oriented romances; and the rash of nonstop, throwaway situation comedies (Miss Congeniality, Pt II and the latest, quickly-turned-out Will Ferrell, J-Lo, or Ben Affleck screen caper).

Getting past the box office and concession stand to see such movies can cost a family of four a big hunk of money. I see the DVD explosion tied in part to growing perceptions of what constitutes fair value in the spending of one's entertainment dollars.

And then there are the vagaries of the theater experience itself: theaters either too hot or too cold; the onslaught of filmed commercials preceded now by lengthy slide show advertisements that together can last 15 irritating minutes; the uncertainty of start-up times for feature presentations; and in multi-theater complexes, the all-too-often sounds of screen explosions from the auditorium next door, disrupting the mood of the film at hand.

All of these annoyances have resulted in complaints that I hear from frequent and infrequent filmgoers—expressions of a diminished regard for the in-theater, big-screen experience that we once knew and sought for its magical powers over us.

It will be interesting to see how theatrical film responds to the challenges facing it today. With the arrival of television in the 1950s, the film industry proved it could adjust and co-exist with new entertainment delivery systems. The period of adjustment was filled with trial and error—technological innovation, bolder content, curtailment of the B-picture, little films about everyday people (1953's Marty) and expensive big-screen spectacles (Around the World in 80 Days of 1956). Change, experimentation, diversity.

The current box-office crisis provides a new opportunity for reflection on the state of film as an art form and as an industry. One consequence seems inevitable: adjustments are just down the road and it is to be hoped that improved quality will be among them.

I am reminded of Samuel Goldwyn's response to the possible effect of television on film attendance back in the 1950s: "Why should people go out and pay money to see bad films when they can see bad television for nothing?"  With a bit of conversion that comment has the same resonance today that it had 50 years ago.

Film historian and critic Frank Beaver is professor of film and video studies and professor of communication.