In the Cheap Seats

It’s That Time Again…

2008-08-08T17:10:00.001-04:00

(Relatively) New on NightsAndWeekends.com:
Pineapple Express
Brideshead Revisited
Swing Vote
The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
American Teen
The Wackness
Step Brothers
The X-Files: I Want to Believe

And by “that time,” I mean August, a time when the weather’s hot, and the movies…not so much.

Things have been pretty strange in Film Critic Land this summer. Some weeks (most of them, in fact), we’ll have just one screening. Maybe two. Then suddenly we’ll be bombarded by five in one week. Then we’ll go back to one the next.

This week, things were pretty up in the air. I had all kinds of random screenings on the schedule, but I wasn’t sure which ones I was actually going to attend.

For instance, on Tuesday morning, there was a screening of a French thriller. Despite the fact that I tend to enjoy both thrillers and French films, I just wasn’t feeling it. It was raining, and I was tired, and the screening was at the theater on the other frickin’ end of town. So as I was getting ready to leave, I called David.

“I’m not missing a screening, am I?” he asked as soon as he picked up. I explained that he was, in fact, forgetting about a Tuesday morning screening—but I was contemplating skipping it.

I did, however, offer a trade: The Midnight Meat Train. It’s a movie that we’ve all been obsessing over ever since we saw the trailer at the Good Luck Chuck screening last fall. Last week, while I was compiling one of my millions of weekly newsletters, I noticed that it was scheduled to open on Friday. Since I hadn’t heard anything about it, I did a little searching and found that it was, in fact, opening. At one theater in town—my old friend, The Cheap Theater. No kidding. It was opening directly to the discount, second-run theater.

Originally, the plan was to hit the theater on Friday afternoon—but Jason was heading out to New York for the weekend, and David had friends over, so we scrapped that idea. So, while we were discussing the French thriller that we were skipping on Tuesday, we decided to hit The Cheap Theater instead. It was, after all, Tuesday—which meant that it would cost a buck instead of $1.25. Talk about a bargain…!

The movie was scheduled for 12:25, and I was running behind, as always. To make matters worse, it seemed that (as is usually the case), I was the only one on the road with anywhere to be. Everyone else had no problem driving 15 under the speed limit and waiting at intersections after the light turned green, just to see if anyone else wanted to go through first. When I finally made it to the theater parking lot, I ended up behind two guys in a pickup, who were barely even idling. As I followed them, I figured that they were actually cruising for chicks in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I kid you not. Now, I realize that we don’t have beaches to cruise here—like the one we had back home in Michigan—but I didn’t realize that people here had taken to cruising the Wal-Mart parking lot as an alternative.

So I finally got myself a parking space, and I was rushing through the parking lot when my phone rang. David.

“I just went in there,” he told me. “It’s full…of old people.”

Apparently, he’d even walked out of the theater to check the sign again—to make sure that he hadn’t walked into the Horton Hears a Who! theater. But no. There it was. The Midnight Meat Train. Filled with senior citizens.

When I finally got inside, David was waiting in the lobby. And I got in line behind a woman who paid for three tickets with dimes. I wish that was an exaggeration, but it’s not. This was just my luck.

So we finally made it into the theater as the trailers were starting. And despite the fact that we figured we’d have the theater to ourselves, David was right—it was packed. At 12:25 on a Tuesday afternoon. And, yes, there were at least 20 elderly moviegoers already in their seats. I couldn’t help but wonder if they had any idea what they were in for.

I, on the other hand, knew what I was in for. Kinda. It was totally gruesome—more so, I think, than any movie I’ve ever seen. Sometimes, in fact, it was so over-the-top that David and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It was sick and twisted, but it was funny.

Strangely, though, David and I were the only people in the theater who were laughing. And that just made me laugh harder. I laughed so hard, it hurt. And then I felt a little bit ashamed of myself. But I couldn’t help it.

After the movie, David decided that he was hungry—though I’m not sure why, since I was pretty sure that I’d never be able to keep anything down again. Since there was a Tim Horton’s nearby, though, we walked over there—so David could get a sandwich, and I could get my iced coffee fix. While I was at it, I got a bagel, too. And I kept it down.

There, at Tim Horton’s, were even more elderly folk. David and I wondered how many of them had just seen The Midnight Meat Train. We then decided that, when we’re old, we, too, will go to crazy movies at The Cheap Theater and follow it up with a coffee at Tim Horton’s. It seems like something we’d do. We’ll invite our grown children to join us, and they’ll be extremely embarrassed. David’s pretty sure his son will have moved to Australia by then to get away from him.

After we finished our post-movie snack, we headed back to our cars and said, “See you in a few hours.” I then rushed back to the office to write up my review before I had to head back out for another screening at night.

Tuesday night’s screening was Pineapple Express. It had screened at random times for weeks, but the past weeks have been ridiculously busy, so I was waiting until the last minute to see it—so were David and Bill. But it was just us—and my husband…and Bill’s brother. It was a surprisingly calm and stress-free screening, really. It went off without a hitch. And I was surprised that I liked the movie a whole lot more than I expected to. So it was a good day all around.

On Thursday, I was planning to catch Tropic Thunder with everybody else. Since I’d already been to another screening, I didn’t have to go, but I wanted to—because it’s so funny that I wanted to see it again. The main purpose, though, was to take my husband, who had missed the previous screening. I’ve been talking about it ever since I saw it, and he was looking forward to seeing it, too. Unfortunately, he ended up having to fly down to Florida on Thursday afternoon, so the screening was out. Instead, I stayed home and watched North by Northwest, which I borrowed from David approximately eight months ago. So it was okay that I stayed home for once.

Next week, however, I probably won’t be so lucky. Nights off…HA! So far, I’ve got screenings on the schedule for Monday and Tuesday morning, along with Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night. We’ll see which ones I actually see. It is, after all, August. And watching five August movies in three days could probably be considered a pretty reliable method of torture. Perhaps they should look into using it in Gitmo.

Feast or Famine

2008-07-21T17:34:00.001-04:00

Recently, on NightsAndWeekends.com:
Mamma Mia!
The Dark Knight
Meet Dave
Hellboy II: The Golden Army
Hancock

This summer, I’ve been finding it difficult to keep on top of blog postings—for a couple of very different reasons. You see, it’s been either feast or famine in the Cheap Seats lately. Either we have one rather uneventful screening during the week (which leaves me reluctant to write about my one uneventful screening—since, after all, it would make my glamorous life seem quite dull and monotonous) or we have a gazillion of them, and I’m left scrambling to get caught up (as I am right this very minute).

Last week, you see, was one of those gazillion-screening weeks. It all started on Monday morning with our screening of The Dark Knight. This one, of course, was one big freakin’ deal. It was The Critic Event of the Summer (well, that and the screening of the summer’s first blockbuster, Iron Man). The screening was so big, in fact, that a few critics’ spouses took a vacation day so they could see it. I, for one, was so excited that I almost threw up. Okay…not really. But I was excited. And, fortunately, I wasn’t disappointed. We got to screen the whole head-spinning thing in IMAX, which was truly amazing—and, despite the 160-minute runtime, it didn’t feel long at all. The only problem was that the screening was at 11—and by the time 1:30 rolled around, I was pretty much starving to death. Fortunately, though, eight of us had planned a post-screening luncheon at California Pizza Kitchen—which made the day just that much cooler.

On Tuesday night, we had our Mamma Mia! screening—which, for some reason, my husband chose not to attend with me. When I showed up at the theater, though, the place was already packed. There was a very large line of very eager middle-aged women—many of whom were dressed up for the occasion, and most of whom were giving us dirty looks for standing in a pack by the theater door instead of waiting in line like the rest of them. Oh, if looks could kill…

It’s no surprise, then, that we scurried into the theater as soon as we were allowed and took our seats. We sat next to the rep’s mom, who we all remembered from an earlier screening, when some crazy bat questioned each one of us before loudly announcing to her friend, “They’re not press.” As it turned out, the Mamma Mia! screening proved to be just as action-packed. As the theater began to fill up, a couple walked up to the seats right next to the rep’s mom and proceeded to rip the press signs off. David, being absolutely sick of people who seem to do that at just about every screening, called over, “Um, excuse me, you can’t take those seats.” The two continued to exchange words, while I nudged Neil, who was sitting next to me, to announce that a fight was in the works. We were all prepared to back David up (after all, we’d just seen The Dark Knight, and we all felt that we were prepared for battle), and we watched eagerly as the man got all snippy and belligerent. He demanded to know if, perhaps, David worked for the theater. Else, apparently, he figured that David didn’t have the right to point out to him that those seats were reserved for someone who was not him. David then explained that the seats were reserved for the people in charge of the screening—and that those people would not feel the slightest remorse if they had to throw him out of the theater. Apparently, that got him—so he finally left. We were happy to see him go—but, to be honest, we were secretly hoping for a brawl. After all, we do love the Film Critic Legends. Someday, when we’re all old and crazy and mostly blind, we’ll sit around all day, in our custom-made theater-seat wheelchairs, saying things like, “Remember when Jason almost got in a fistfight at Roscoe Jenkins?”

That incident may have been over, though, but the fun just continued. At 7:30, when the screening was scheduled to begin, some crazy guy in a Hawaiian shirt got up to start the promotional giveaways. Unfortunately, he wasn’t just going to throw some T-shirts out into the audience and call it good. No, he had to do a “Name that ABBA song” contest, which was long and drawn out and ridiculous. The best part, though, was when he read off the lyrics to “Mamma Mia” for some poor, clueless schmuck who had absolutely no idea what the song was. So Hawaiian Shirt Guy gave him a clue: “What’s the movie title?”

“I still don’t know it,” Clueless Schmuck replied, to groans throughout the audience.

“No, really—it’s the title of the movie we’re about to see. What’s the title of the movie?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen it yet!” Clueless Schmuck responded. At that point, the entire critics’ row put their hands over their faces and shook their heads.

But it got even worse. Afterwards, Hawaiian Shirt Guy started handing out lyrics sheets, to encourage the crowd to sing along. He tried to hand one to David—not a good idea, since he was still a little riled up over the Stolen Seat Incident. I honestly thought that David was going to punch him in the face.

The funny thing, however, was that Kevin emailed the rep the next day to complain about the whole song sheet thing, and the rep told him that the studio (Universal) had actually encouraged singalongs. Kevin was irate. I, on the other hand, figure that listening to the guy next to me (meaning: Neil) singing couldn’t have been any more painful than listening to Pierce Brosnan.

On Wednesday night, I was planning to catch another Dark Knight screening—this time with my husband, who didn’t take the day off to see it on Monday. However, things were so tight with the Wednesday night screening that I decided not to risk it. After all, the rep had told me that I wasn’t allowed to screen it again—not only that, but critics who were allowed to screen it (meaning: those who didn’t see it on Monday) weren’t allowed to bring guests. And, since I’m not a jerk like that, I took the night off instead—and planned to catch it over the weekend.

On Thursday morning, we had a screening of The Wackness. Neil loves it so much that he’s already seen it five times at various film festivals—but, surprisingly, he didn’t show up for the screening. Unfortunately, I think Neil’s hype ruined it for a few of us—because I liked it more than the rest of the gang.

After the screening, I went rushing back to work on my radio script for the week. Clay was on vacation, so I was filling in for him. Unfortunately, John was also out for much of the week—so he had to catch up on The Dark Knight on Wednesday. That meant that we had to record on Friday morning instead of Thursday—and that we’d be finishing up the script on Thursday afternoon. Fortunately, though, I was pretty much ready to go, so I was finished in time to make dinner and head out to another screening.

Thursday night’s screening was The Rocker. Originally, it was supposed to come out…next week, I think. But the release has been bumped a few weeks. Still, I wanted to get it over with. Not only that, but it was screening at a theater nearby, making it nice and convenient. I was also curious—since I’d never actually been to that theater.

As it turns out, the theater by our house is The Smelly Old Theater. It’s the kind that was huge in the late ‘80s but is now just kinda old and out-of-date. It smells musty, the air-conditioning barely works, and I’ve seen bigger screens in people’s home theaters (though, sadly, not my own). But hey—it was close to home. It was pretty close for Kevin and Jason, too—so both of them were also in attendance (Jason proudly grabbed a stylish “I Only Drum Naked” T-shirt). Kevin was keeping his fingers crossed for a timely screening, since he had to rush home afterwards, pick up his son, and head into town for a pre-Dark Knight roundtable discussion.

Since both Kevin and Neil rushed out to see The Dark Knight at midnight, it wasn’t a surprise that they weren’t at the Friday morning screening. I, on the other hand, had already made it through a morning recording session (this week on It’s Movie Time, John and I covered an interesting combo: The Dark Knight and Meet Dave). After a two-screening day and a morning in the studio, I was beat, but I couldn’t miss Emma Thompson in Brideshead Revisited. Strangely, very few of my male colleagues were there. Go figure.

After a crazy week like that one, you might think that I’d take a break from movies for a while. And I’ll admit that, on Friday afternoon, I may have vowed never to see another movie again. But alas, I lied. And at noon on Saturday, I wrangled my husband out the door to see a matinee The Dark Knight. I couldn’t resist.

Now, however, I get a break. Or at least I don’t have to watch a movie today. I’m back at it tomorrow, though. And Wednesday morning. And Wednesday night. Another feast week…

Comedy Showdown

2008-06-20T16:55:00.000-04:00

New on NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Get Smart
Then She Found Me
The Incredible Hulk
Kung Fu Panda

Okay…let’s start with a quick overview of last week—since I missed last Friday’s entry. Really, the only exciting moment in last week’s schedule was when we showed up for our first morning screening in ages, only to be told (by the terrified new manager of the café next door) that we’d have to wait a bit to see Kit Kittredge because no one was there to set it up for us. Apparently, whoever had scheduled the screening forgot to tell anyone about it. So we got to sit around and drink coffee and eat sandwiches (or, for John, quiche) while kicking ourselves for choosing to show up for the screening instead of, say, sleeping in.

Though we were told we’d only have to wait a half-hour, we knew that was just an optimistic estimate. Instead, we ended up waiting an hour. And after sitting through the movie, we were all kicking ourselves for sticking around and waiting (except for Clay, who eventually gave up on trying to watch the movie and took a nap instead).

So that was last week. This week, then, was Comedy Showdown Week. You see, studios tend to plan their release dates pretty carefully during the summer—so they won’t have to go up against similar movies for opening weekend box office dollars. For instance, you wouldn’t see Iron Man and The Dark Knight opening on the same day—because you’d be forcing superhero movie fans to choose between the two. But, this week, two comedies are going head-to-head, choosing comedy fans to make a choice: Steve Carell or Mike Myers. This was supposed to be a big fat deal—but, after seeing them both, I can tell you that there’s just no contest.

Tuesday night, we headed to The Theater With the Balcony to see Get Smart. They had started letting people in early, so the balcony was already filling up by the time we got up there. We’d been assured that there were seats reserved for us, but I was a little bit confused about that whole situation.

You see, there were fancy, laminated “Reserved” signs placed throughout the balcony, but they were all in random spots. There would be one on the end of a row…and then another one a few seats down. I didn’t know if that meant that they were all reserved—or if they were even reserved for me. You never know—sometimes they reserve seats for various groups, and these signs didn’t actually say “Reserved for Press.” So I decided to wing it. I took a few seats, saved an extra or two for anyone else who might show up, and waited for the screening to begin.

A while later, a couple ended up and decided to sit in the seats that I’d saved (by putting the “Reserved” signs down on them. The woman loudly announced that she was sure that they were supposed to have reserved seats—even though I had no idea who she was. Since the rest of the gang hadn’t shows up yet, though, I figured they either weren’t coming or they’d decided to sit downstairs.

But then the couple beside me did something that totally surprised me. When the rep was giving his usual spiel, he mentioned that those “Reserved” seats were reserved for press (who, he jokingly added, “Think they’re special,” thereby allowing people to hate us even more than they already do). The couple realized that they were sitting in press seats—so they got up and went somewhere else. I was both surprised and delighted. So, you see, there are still some polite, respectful people out there after all.

Not long after that, the rep called up to me from below to check to see if there were still a few seats left for David and Bill. As suspected, they had ended up downstairs. But after Hazel, the crazy lady who insists that she’s press (which she proves by wearing a homemade “PRESS” badge around her neck) came and sat down by them, they decided to see if I was upstairs—and if I happened to have seats there for them. Fortunately, that kind and respectable couple had gotten up, so there were, in fact, a couple of seats available for them.

Finally, once we were all settled in, the screening began. And, believe it or not, the Balcony Brigade was a great crowd—for the first time ever. No one talked through the whole movie. No one kicked the back of my seat repeatedly. I couldn’t believe it. The only explanation I have is that the theater managers must have forced the Balcony Brigade to take Movie Theater Etiquette 101 before letting them in. But they were a dream. I’m still stunned. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that the theater smelled like bologna sandwiches. But that’s another issue altogether.

Though Steve Carell is sometimes one of those hit-or-miss comics, I found myself enjoying Get Smart. I laughed quite a bit—and I hardly ever cringed (maybe just once). So, all around, not bad.

And then came Wednesday.

Wednesday was the one that I was dreading: The Love Guru. With every new trailer that came out, I feared it just a little bit more. But, well, it was a hockey movie, so at least it had that going for it. Or so I thought.

Pretty much everyone had made their excuses and steered clear of Wednesday night’s screening, leaving Jason and me to suffer through it alone. And though I secretly hoped that it would turn out to be surprisingly funny, it didn’t. It was terrible. Horrible. No good. Very bad. In fact, there are not enough synonyms for “bad” to describe it. I spent most of the movie with my mouth slightly open and an expression of sheer horror on my face, in utter disbelief. I couldn’t believe that any movie could be that bad. It was just one big, crazy mess of male-genitalia gags (65%) and midget jokes (30%), with a few stupid acronyms and ridiculously long book titles thrown in for fun (making up the remaining 5%). But perhaps the most unbelievable thing about this movie was that some people were actually laughing. Then again, as John always says, people will love any movie if it’s free.

After I got home from the screening, I was too angry to sleep—so, despite the fact that I had to get up early on Thursday morning to record the show, I stayed up and wrote my review before getting a few things ready for my crazy Thursday morning.

Thursday morning was another crazy studio session. Traffic was surprisingly light, so I was even a few minutes early for our 8:30 designated rehearsal time. Of course, Clay never shows up for rehearsal time, so I probably could have slept in a little bit longer. But I consider it my warm-up time—it gives me a chance to relax and wake up (and get caught up on all the good gossip) before having to do the show.

Since John, Clay, and I were all doing the show, that meant that we needed to do some finagling again. This time, John and I shared a mic—and it was much like a game of Twister. But we all survived with minimal injuries, and we made it out on time for John and Clay to catch a screening of Mongol. Though I saw it in Cleveland in March, I was tempted to see it again—because it’s really that good—but I figured that I should probably head back to the office and get some work done instead. And since I had another screening this morning, followed by lunch with the boys, I figured it would be best for me to hold off on seeing it again until it comes out on DVD.

Next week is another busy one, with screenings of both WALL*E and Wanted—both of which I’m looking forward to seeing. There’s also Origins, the annual game fair, which I intend to check out on Thursday and maybe for a while on Friday, too. It’s definitely an interesting event—and I never really know what I’ll find when I get there. Last time, I ran into William Hung in the hallway. That was really…weird. I missed it last year, so I’m really looking forward to getting back to the craziness again. So if you happen to be heading out to Origins, be sure to stop me and say hello. I’ll be the one female in the building who isn’t dressed up like a medieval princess or a witch or something. You can’t miss me…

Slowly Building…

2008-06-06T11:47:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
You Don’t Mess with the Zohan

This summer’s schedule is really starting to upset me. Seriously…what’s going on here? I realize that the studios are really hesitant to release summer movies on the same weekend as some other summer movie, but come on here—can we please have a few options? And can I please have another movie or two to help me fill my schedule? Thanks.

So, last week, The Strangers dared to go up against Sex and the City—but the fact that inadvertently scheduled both screenings for the same night didn’t do me any good. And, this week, You Don’t Mess with the Zohan faces off against Kung Fu Panda. And, for once, the screenings were at completely different times.

Zohan screened on Monday, on campus. And despite the fact that I was once a pretty die-hard Adam Sandler fan, I was pretty much dreading it. But, fortunately, Sandler managed to pull through for us. Silly, yes. Painful, no. In fact, at one point, Jason laughed so hard that I was concerned that David and I might have to attempt to perform the Heimlich Maneuver on him. So, yeah. It had some really funny moments. And I was greatly relieved.

Then, on Tuesday, we screened Kung Fu Panda. This was another one that I’d been dreading since about November, when the AMC theaters started running that turn-off-your-cell-phone spot starring the panda. Every time I saw it, I cringed. Sure, I believe that people should turn off their cell phones at movies, but I would rather not have Jack Black tell people to do so. Maybe we could find someone else—someone a little less…well…irritating. Perhaps someone that people would actually listen to—instead of laughing at. Maybe Morgan Freeman. People listen to Morgan Freeman, right? But I was pleasantly surprised by the movie. As it turns out, the cartoon-panda Jack Black doesn’t scat once. And, again, I was greatly relieved.

Meanwhile, this week, I was once again amazed by the general rudeness of some people. Before both screenings, we had people completely disregard the big “RESERVED FOR PRESS” signs that were taped to some of the seats and just sit right down next to us without giving it a second thought. Now, neither screening was actually packed. No one was fighting for seats here. It wasn’t like they were the last two seats in the theater. Nope. They just wanted those seats, and they were going to take them.

Now, I’m not going to say that all people completely disregard the signs. There are some people who are very considerate of them. There are people who ask us if it’s okay to sit in certain places, and they’re perfectly okay with sitting where they’re allowed to sit—and not sitting where they’re not supposed to sit. These people I like.

The other people, however, not so much. This means that I really didn’t like the couple who plunked their butts down next to me for Zohan. Not only did they totally disregard the signs that remained taped to the seats behind their backs, but the guy next to me had clearly smoked an entire pack of cigarettes right before coming into the theater, and he reeked of smoke. And since I’m still trying to recover from my allergies, or whatever it is that’s causing me to hack up a lung, I wasn’t all that thrilled about having to sit next to a guy who smelled like a chimney.

Even worse, however, was the woman on Tuesday. You see, most Seat Stealers think they’re being pretty sneaky about it. They think that if they just sit down quietly, no one will notice that they’re sitting in seats that were reserved for someone else. Then there are the Defiant Seat Stealers, like the woman on Tuesday. This woman came into the theater with her kid (talk about teaching good manners to your kids!), ignored all of the available seats, walked right up to the RESERVED FOR PRESS signs, ripped them off the seats, threw them aside, and loudly announced to her young son, “Press seats. Sit down.” She then forced her son to sit next to me, which he clearly didn’t want to do—so, in the end, he whined until she let him move to the end of a row somewhere, where he didn’t have to sit next to anybody but his mom. Now, perhaps I’m a scary person, but I’d have to say that I’m much less scary than that kid’s mom.

So anyway…next week is another two-screening—maybe even three-screening—week. Yay! I’m greatly amused, however, that M. Night Shamalamadingdong’s latest, The Happening, isn’t on the schedule at all. On one hand, I’m totally okay with that—because after seeing the monstrosity that was Lady in the Water two summers ago, I’m still holding a grudge. On the other hand, though, after that horrible night, I made David (who wisely attended the My Super Ex-Girlfriend screening instead) promise to keep me from attending any future M. Night Shamalamadingdong screenings, so we agreed to skip the next one and go play laser tag (or maybe go bowling) instead. And if there is no screening of The Happening, when are we supposed to go bowling? Sheesh.

I suppose, though, that, either way, I’ve successfully dodged that bullet.

ROGO

2008-05-30T09:44:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Sex and the City
Son of Rambow
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

This week, I’m having a ROGO special: read one week, get one week free.

Since there wasn’t a whole lot going on last week (or this week, for that matter), I figured I’d hold off for one entry this week. That, and it was the holiday weekend, and I had stuff to do. Like shop. And eat.

So anyway…it’s been nearly two weeks since our big Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull screening. And it was definitely one crazy screening.

The screening was set for 2:00 on Sunday afternoon—something that’s never been done before, but apparently Paramount was screening the movie for press across the country all at the same time. Knowing how packed these press-only screenings of big summer movies can be (last year’s screening of Pirates 3 was the same thing—only on a weeknight), I hustled my husband and brother-in-law out the door as early as possible. And we arrived at the theater at around 1:20. By that time, the area around the little theater was already filling up—with people I’d never seen before in my life. John and Clay were there, too, so I wandered up to talk to them.

When they finally started letting us in, I managed to be the second person in the door. I had to be—because I was the only one of the Rodents there. I had a bunch of seats to save. Between the three of us, we ended up saving an entire row—10 seats. And I managed to make a lot of new enemies in the process. The theater we were in was one of the tiny ones—so it filled up quickly. There were all kinds of people there who weren’t technically “press.” There was also one gigantic guy who had made himself his very own “press pass,” which totally cracked the rest of us out. We’re still considering making our own press sandwich boards.

I’m guessing a bunch of people didn’t RSVP, as requested—because the theater filled up so quickly that I was surprised that fights didn’t break out. People were forced to leave as other showed up. And I have to say that I felt really bad when the rep’s wife and kids were sent away—because one of our favorite I-won’t-waste-my-time-by-showing-up-early colleagues showed up at the last minute.

In the end, I was pretty impressed that everyone made it out in one piece—and that no punches were thrown. And, a few missteps aside, the movie was pretty good. Not bad for an exciting Sunday afternoon.

Another big fiasco that weekend, however, was The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. We’d planned to see it on Friday afternoon—but when Jason and I were the only ones who could go, we decided to cancel our plans. So Ed and I went guitar shopping instead. First, we thought we’d see it on Friday night instead. Then Friday night turned to Saturday night. And Saturday night turned to…“Um…maybe Monday?”

Finally, we made it to the infamous Movie Tavern on Monday night. I wasn’t all that impressed by the movie (neither were the kids across from us, who spent the second half screaming and running around). And I guess the person behind me, who made me violently angry by kicking my seat through about half the movie, probably wasn’t all that thrilled, either. But at least the experience was cool. In fact, I think it was the highlight of Ed’s visit. He was pretty thrilled to be able to eat dinner and drink a beer while watching a movie. And, really, who wouldn’t be?

But that was it for screenings for the rest of the week—until this Tuesday night.

This week, there are two wide releases: Sex and the City and The Strangers. And, unfortunately, they were screening at pretty much the same time. It was a tough call—because:

The Strangers started at 7:30 at the theater I like, and it was only 90 minutes long. Not only that, but it looked pretty cool. Whereas…

Sex and the City was going to be held at a random theater in the middle of freakin’ nowhere. It was scheduled for an 8:30 New York premiere red carpet simulcast, followed by a 9:00 movie, which would then last almost 2½ hours. And, well, I’ve seen only a few episodes of SATC, so I really didn’t care. I was, however, mildly intrigued.

In the end, however, I ended up going to see Sex and the City. I really didn’t want to—especially since it was late, and I was suffering from some nasty allergies. But John asked me to be on the show this week—and he seemed pretty intent on covering SATC (which, I suppose, is understandable). So he made my decision for me. Not that I was happy about it or anything.

So at 7:45ish, there I was, in the lobby of this random theater in the middle of freakin’ nowhere, surrounded by girls in (I kid you not) dresses and heels, along with guys in suits. There was a huge line of very excited women (and about five guys) snaking through the lobby. And then there were the critics: Bill (with his very excited mom), Jason (with his very excited girlfriend and mom), and me. And then came Hope, who pointed out, “You can tell the fans from the critics by their shoes.” And she was right—my Chuck Taylors do not have heels. And Hope wasn’t wearing a dress.

When the rep told us we could go in, we all made a break for it. Jason’s girlfriend, Milu, and I rushed past the cheesy red carpet that had been set up for the event. There was someone with a camera nearby, and we really didn’t want our pictures taken.

Once we got inside, we were hit with a barrage of SATC stuff on the big screen. It was like watching the DVD’s special features. Some crazy lady talked (very loudly) about the wardrobe. And that’s when I decided to try to tune it all out (which was difficult, since the volume was deafening). I chatted with Clay and his friend, Michelle, who had taken seats behind me. I laughed with Bill and Jason at the people walking in. And I marveled at the fact that I was, without doubt, the only woman in the theater who would be watching the movie with a straight man on either side—and, really, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We also made plans to create our own TV series. It’s called Two Guys, a Girl, and a Movie Theater. We’re currently entertaining offers.

At 8:30, we had to sit through a trailer of the movie—and then the red carpet hoohah began. It, too, was deafening. A crazed Stephen Cojocaru (who looked like he was so excited, he could pee himself at any minute) interviewed everyone who walked up, telling them all that they were, in fact, the most stunning person on the carpet. Our personal favorite moment, however, was when Jennifer Hudson and her scandalous cleavage took her turn with Cojo. When asked if she’d bathed in gold that day (thus her tight gold dress), she replied, “No, I just rubbed up against my Oscar.” Classy.

At a few minutes to 9, there were a couple of giveaways, which Jason’s mother was totally eager to win. Finally, to hoots and applause from our row, she successfully listed off all four starring actresses, and she won a shirt. She was thrilled.

Then, at 9ish, the movie started. Finally. And, instead of being deafeningly loud, like everything leading up to the movie had been, it was ridiculously quiet. I could hear the oohs and aahs from the people around me (not to mention Clay’s chuckles from behind me) better than I could hear the actual movie. It was annoying.

It was even more annoying when, suddenly, the print was thrown off, and the top third of the screen was black. Everyone’s head was down at the bottom of the screen, and all of the boom mikes were totally visible. This brought about snickers from the crowd, along with groans from the critics. Jason said something not-so-nice about the projectionist and his mental capacity, and I expressed how happy I was that we came to this theater in the middle of freakin’ nowhere.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, as the crowd gasped at something said on-screen and Jason and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes, I realized that we really do have our own sit-com. We’re living it every single week. And even when I have to sit through movies that make my head hurt—movies that take place too late at night, at a theater in the middle of freakin’ nowhere—it’s still kinda fun.

When it was all over, the guys and I waited in the lobby as the moms battled the crowds at the women’s bathroom. It was pretty amusing to listen to everyone twittering away about the characters and their actions—as though they didn’t realize that they’re fictional characters. We did, however, note that the crowd wasn’t all that enthusiastic. Sure, there were “oooh”s and “aaaah”s and gasps and giggles at off-color jokes. But the enthusiasm definitely died down. There wasn’t a huge, thundering round of applause after the movie (as is often the case at public screenings). People just kinda left.

I couldn’t blame them, really. I mean, I wasn’t impressed at all. It was pretty predictable and fluffy and melodramatic. It was whiny. And it was totally melodramatic. I don’t want to give anything away, but at one point, Carrie decides to check her messages—while on the beach in Mexico—and after listening to one, she deletes it and melodramatically throws the phone into the water. Then the camera cuts to the phone as it slowly sinks below the water.

Ugh. So much drama. I know that was probably supposed to move me to tears or something, touched by the pain that Carrie was feeling—but, mostly, it just made me groan and roll my eyes.

And it really drove me crazy how, every time the four of them got together, it resulted in about a minute of shrieking and jumping up and down. Last time I checked, girls stopped doing that at around the age of 10. It hurt my ears. And it made me angry. I was even a bit insulted. I mean, really—is this the way that strong, independent grown women are supposed to act? Because, last time I checked, that’s more like the way spoiled 13-year-olds act.

But I wasn’t the only one who was less than impressed. Jason admitted that he’s pretty much seen the entire series—and the show was way better than the movie. So that made me feel a bit better. Personally, I’d been intrigued by the show. I’d always meant to watch it more—and whenever I caught it on TBS or whatever while I was flipping channels, I’d stop to watch. And I remembered liking those few shows much more than I liked the movie. The show seemed to be smart and funny. The movie was long and annoying.

And if I get hate mail for saying so, so be it. Personally, I’m kinda glad that no one around here really knows who I am—because if they did, I’d probably get my eyeballs scratched out while walking down the street after giving the movie a D on the radio this week. I know that people are really attached to the show. I know they’ve been looking forward to the movie. And that’s fine. It’s not their fault that the movie’s not good—nor is it mine. But, well, I’m sure it’ll make a boatload of money anyway.

So did I mention that on Tuesday, before the movie, I was hit with some nasty allergies? Well, I was. And they only got worse on Wednesday. That made me a little worried about recording the show yesterday morning. Then again, considering how congested I was, I guess it wouldn’t be a big deal—it would just sound like John was doing the show with deep-voiced Clay, as usual.

Fortunately, though, everything went relatively well, considering that I spent most of the show willing myself not to hack up a lung—while finishing off a couple of bottles of water. In hindsight, it probably would have been best to record the show today—since I sound way better this morning. But, well, who knew? And, really, it didn’t turn out all that bad, after all (you can have a listen for yourself).

So anyway…next week, we’re back to a more normal schedule: two screenings next week. In fact, we’ve already got at least two screenings a week scheduled for all of June. That’s more like it. This whole one-screening-a-week thing was weird. I was starting to forget how to write reviews. And I found myself scrambling to fill my schedule each week. So I’m glad things are picking up again—even if it means having to watch You Don’t Mess with the Zohan and Kung Fu Panda on consecutive nights. I won’t even complain. Much.

One Crazy Night

2008-05-16T15:24:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
What Happens in Vegas

This week’s screening schedule was exactly as this week’s title suggests. We had just one evening screening, and it was pretty much insane.

Tuesday night was the Son of Rambow screening, which was held at The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up. And that always makes for an entertaining evening.

Since the theater is way on the other side of town, we decided to carpool—so Neil showed up at our place, and we drove down from here. We were planning to leave by 6:15ish for the 7:30 screening (both because it’s quite a hike down to that part of town and because the theater has absolutely no parking, so you have to show up early to get a spot that doesn’t require a two-mile hike). But Neil stopped at Kevin’s place before the screening and ended up playing with the baby for longer than expected. Fortunately, though, we’ve got backup. So while we waited for Neil to show up, I picked up the phone and called Jason, who was already on his way. So if we weren’t there before the doors opened, we’d still have a seat. It’s cool how that all works.

So anyway, we ended up parking on the street and still making it into the theater before the doors opened. But when we got there, we were greeted by one big, happy surprise: goody bags. Jamie, the lovely Paramount Vantage rep, had put together goody bags, filled with all kinds of fun, sugary ‘80s goodies. As soon as the bags were in our hands, we regressed about 20 years, and we were all like little kids on the playground, trading my Boston Baked Beans for Neil’s Snow White Pez dispenser. It was awesome. We had already been pretty excited to see the movie—and suddenly we were both excited and wired on Air Heads. Did I mention it was awesome?

So anyway, once the doors opened, we got ourselves some seats—right in the middle, right where we usually sit. We got to sit around and get caught up, since we hadn’t seen each other in a while week. It’s pretty strange, really, not seeing everyone several times a week. I actually kinda miss them. So it was nice to get caught up again.

Eventually, the theater started filling up, and, as is usually the case with The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up, we ended up surrounded by entertaining characters.

Behind us, for instance, there were two Pepper Pots in training. I believe they were rather young, but they were still very Pepper Pot-ish. By that, I mean that they were absolutely mortified by everything in the movie. There’s a mouse on-screen, there are two “EEW!”s behind me. The kid’s drawing is a bit violent, there are two “UUH!”s behind me. There was an “OOOH!” or an “UUUH!” or a “EEEW!” for everything. Even pinecones, apparently, mortified these women. And if they weren’t expressing some form of horror and outrage, they were chatting up a storm.

But that’s only the beginning.

Then there was the guy in front of us. Now, I know that the movie was about a couple of kids in the early ‘80s, but I didn’t think that the screening necessitated costumes. But this guy definitely had a great costume: long, scraggly brown hair, black leather vest. He looked like a cast-off roadie from an ‘80s metal band. He had clearly smoked an entire pack before entering the theater, and I’m pretty sure that isn’t all this guy’s been smoking—since, from the sound of it, something fried the guy’s brain cells years ago. Oh, and he sounded just like Sam Elliot.

Fortunately, though, Sam Elliot enjoyed every minute of the movie. He was laughing. And clapping. And talking to the screen. He was having a great time. And as we sat behind him, snickering, his girlfriend was hunched down in her seat, and his friends, who were sitting next to him, were chuckling in embarrassment and leaning the other way.

So, yeah. It was another night at The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up. Fortunately, the movie was a whole lot of fun. Neil’s looking forward to seeing it again at the screening he’s hosting this week—mostly because it’ll be nice to see it once without Sam Elliot’s commentary.

But that was it for the week. Kevin actually made the drive to Cincinnati last night for the Prince Caspian screening, but at $4 a gallon for gas, the rest of us figured that, if we really wanted to see it, we could pay to see it here instead of driving 200 miles round trip to see it for free. We were actually planning to see it today over lunch at the Movie Tavern, but then Neil decided to take a nap instead and David realized that he had a scheduling conflict, so Jason and I scrapped that idea. Since my brother-in-law, Ed, is in town this weekend, I took him to Guitar Center instead—and we had lunch at the only Friendly’s in town, followed by a stop at the only Dunkin’ Donuts in town. And we might just head to Movie Tavern tonight instead.

So this weekend’s a busy one. On top of having Ed here—which means some shopping, some hanging out, and maybe a trip to the zoo—I’m also heading over to the WCBE yard sale tomorrow for a while. (If you’re in the area, it’s from 10-2, and there will be cool stuff. Be sure to stop in!) And Sunday is the Indiana Jones screening. And we still have to re-watch The Last Crusade sometime between now and then. So I’m sure that’ll make for one crazy weekend. After that, though, there’s nothing. Seriously. Nothing at all. There are two screenings on Tuesday night, but they’re both movies that I will have already seen. So there isn’t a single screening this week. It’s going to be a quiet, lonely week—but, on the bright side, that means that I’ll be able to catch up on DVDs and books and music and stuff. So I’m not going to complain…

Those Lazy Days of Summer

2008-05-09T12:16:00.001-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Speed Racer
Redbelt
Made of Honor

May seems to be a pretty sleepy month for movies. And by that, I don’t mean that the movies are boring. I just mean that there aren’t a lot of them. For instance, last week, two movies opened (in wide release, that is): Iron Man and Made of Honor. This week, it’s What Happens in Vegas and Speed Racer. Next week, it’s just Prince Caspian. The week after, it’s Indiana Jones. In other words, all kinds of big movies that no one wants to try to battle at the box office. So while each week brings an exciting new adventure for us critics, they’re few and far between.

This week, we had just two screenings—both on Tuesday. On Tuesday morning, we were scheduled to see What Happens in Vegas at The Other Theater (the one where we rarely have morning screenings—but where we totally prefer to have them). Since it’s much closer to home, that meant that I could leave at the same time and still make a stop at the nearby Tim Horton’s. It’s a good thing that I had plenty of time, though—because the poor kid working the counter clearly had no idea what he was doing. He greeted me when I walked in and asked what he could get me, and I said, “I’ll have a chocolate chip muffin…” and I paused to let him do whatever he needed to do. Instead, he just stared at me. So I went on. “…And a small hazelnut iced coffee with no cream and a little bit of sugar.”

His response: “A chocolate chip muffin.”

At that point, I knew I was in trouble. This one took a whole lot of explaining on my part—and when I walked out, I ended up with a regular iced coffee with no nothin’, but I wasn’t about to complain. The movie would be over by the time I got what I wanted.

But at least I had my muffin. And some sort of coffee.

When I got to the parking lot, David was already there, eating a breakfast burrito in his car. (I’ve mentioned that film critics have a glamorous life, right?) And Jason had just followed me from the Tim Horton’s drive-thru. So we gathered in the lobby to wait for the others.

Apparently, everyone was a bit burnt out after seeing Made of Honor last week—because very few people showed up for the screening. And when it began, I, too, was a little (okay…more than a little) worried. But, fortunately, it turned out to be much better than Made of Honor (not that the bar was set all that high).

After the screening, we all went our separate ways, heading back to our offices to try to write something up before racing back to the theater again that night for Speed Racer.

Since most of our evening screenings have been at the same time and same place lately, I didn’t even think to double-check the time of the screening—until we’d finished dinner. It was then that I realized that the screening was at 7—not 7:30—and we had to race to the theater. I called David to ask him to save us seats, and we headed out—dirty dishes all over the kitchen. It looked like a tornado had just gone through—but we had places to be.

Of course, we were still there plenty early. So no worries there. We were, however, displaced from our usual seats—this time, not by the usual rep, complete with entourage, but by one of our own. He had taken the center seats, leaving the rest of us either to split up (which sucks—but we do it if we have to) or to sit at the very side of the theater, right by the steps (which would mean that half of the movie would be blocked out by the constant parade of kids heading to and from the bathroom). Though Jason asked him politely if he could move down just a couple of seats, he refused—first stating that they were press seats (apparently assuming that the rest of us were just pushy fanboys) and then announcing, “No, I’m good here.”

It’s not like someone was asking him to sit up front—or way off on the side. They were just asking him to move a seat or two over. We do it all the time. No big deal. But apparently it would have meant the end of the world for this guy. Eventually, Jason got the rep to ask him to move over—which, I’m sure, made us look a little spoiled, but we didn’t really care. At least we didn’t have to deal with the parade of kids headed to the bathroom.

As it turned out, though, not only did the guy refuse to move over, but he also refused to let anyone sit next to him, preferring to save an extra seat for his coat. Now, in many cases, that’s okay. The theater doesn’t always fill up. But, in this case, there were more passes than seats—and there were all kinds of people who were turned away. The reps in charge asked (several times) if anyone had extra seats around them, but he never said a word. So someone was sent home that night because his coat needed a seat. Now, I understand that some critics like to have their “buffer seat”—but even John, who loves his buffer seat, will give it up when there’s a full house. So I’d say that this guy ranks right up there with the one who, upon showing up late for I Am Legend and demanding a seat, told the guy who showed up on time and still got thrown out, “Yeah, like you’d lose your job if you didn’t see this movie.”

So when people tell me that film critics are jerks (and yes, people have), I guess I can’t totally disagree. Some are. But I swear that most of us are totally cool. Really. So please don’t throw things at us or send death threats via email. We’re really not that bad.

But anyway…Speed Racer was, as expected, one crazy movie. Needlessly complex but totally crazy. When we walked out, Bill announced that he was going to go home and stare at a blank screen for a while, just to recover. A few guys complained of headaches. And I couldn’t actually see normal colors—everything was red and blue and swirly polka dots and stuff for hours after the movie ended. But, well, it was kinda fun anyway.

The kids, on the other hand, were barely effected—unless, of course, you count the fact that they came running out of the theater and ran around in circles and bumped into things. Other than that, though, they seemed happy.

After the screening, Kevin had to head back to greet his in-laws, who moved in for a few days to take care of Kevin’s two little guys while Kevin and his wife, Carolyn, brought the third little Kevin into the world. And on Wednesday afternoon, we got the news—along with the unauthorized photos—of the birth of the latest Carr, Nicholas Ronon. In a couple of years, he, too, will be wreaking havoc on movie theaters and running into things—and I look forward to it. Believe it or not, little Carr kids are really quite adorable. Why, just last week, at the Iron Man screening, the youngest walked up to Neil and, out of the blue, announced, “I love you, Neil.” Of course, this is the same child who, right after the Speed Racer screening, also exhibited is talent for farting on cue. So, yeah—cute…and entertaining.

But that’s it for this week—just one crazy day of screenings followed by a few days to recover. Next week will be even quieter. We just have one screening scheduled for next week—Son of Rambow (yeah!). Of course, there’s no Prince Caspian screening—so we’ll all be heading out on Friday to see it at the Movie Tavern (where there will be fried pickles). My brother-in-law, Ed, the coolest brother-in-law ever, will be showing up for a visit on Thursday night, so he’ll get thrown right into the craziness that is known as the COFCA Mafia (AKA “The Internet Mavericks,” AKA “The Rodents”). It’s sure to be quite an adventure for young Ed. Perhaps I’ll drag him away from the Wii long enough to guest blog for me on Monday, following his movie-filled weekend.

Hurray for Summer!

2008-05-02T10:39:00.002-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Iron Man
The Visitor
Deception
Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay
Anamorph
CJ7 (Cheung Gong 7 Hou)
Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden?
Forgetting Sarah Marshall

I know…I know…I didn’t post last week. I could give a big, detailed explanation as to why I neglected my Friday blog duties, but, really, the reason is pretty simple: I just ran out of time. If you would like, however, I could give you a list of the things that I did do last Friday. After all, it’s all still in my planner—even though it technically took place last month, and those pages should already have been removed from my planner. But, considering I just finally found the time to remove my March pages last week, they’ll probably be there for a while.

I will, however, give you a quick overview of last week—just so you won’t feel left out: I only went to three screenings last week. Two were morning screenings, and both were bad. I also went to an evening screening of Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, which was insane—as I’m sure you can imagine. There were some crazy guys sitting behind us, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were stoned. They were loud, and they climbed over seats as though they were in their own living room. But, really, what else can you expect from the sneak preview crowd for a stoner comedy? Not a whole heck of a lot, really.

Also, I made my third consecutive appearance on It’s Movie Time—this time, with both John and Clay. Clay and I had to share a microphone, so we were all very close and cuddly, but it was still great fun. In fact, I’d gotten so used to getting up and heading to the studio on Thursday morning that it felt weird not to go to the studio this week. I miss that crazy place.

In other WCBE news, though, if you happen to be in the Columbus area, be sure to mark your calendars for May 17th (that’s a Saturday)—the WCBE yard sale. The guys and I will be wandering around, schmoozing and trying to sell CDs and posters and things. Be sure to stop in—and bring cash! That day is also the annual Fort Fest, so there will be food and music and all kinds of fun, artsy stuff.

Okay…so now for this week.

This week was a very exciting week for all of us—because this week marks the beginning of the Summer Blockbuster Season. And, believe me, it comes not a moment too soon. After surviving four pretty crap-heavy months, we could use a couple of big popcorn movies to reward us just a little bit for making it through the dull winter months without having a complete nervous breakdown.

First, though, we had to see Patrick Dempsey in Made of Honor. My husband was once again out of town on Monday, so, after leaving my knitting group, I headed to Panera for dinner. I read and ate a very tasty chipotle chicken sandwich. Then I made my way to campus for the screening.

When I showed up, Neil was already there, talking to Jennifer, one of our favorite reps, about Wednesday’s Iron Man screening. According to Jen, Wednesday would be insane, so she advised us to show up early. No problem there. Neil was so psyched to see Iron Man that he, Kevin, and David were planning to drive up to Cleveland for their screening on Tuesday—after which Neil and Kevin (but not David, who was on baby duty on Wednesday) were seeing it again on Wednesday. Really, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Neil had just driven back from Cleveland on Tuesday night and headed straight to the theater here, so he wouldn’t be late to see it on Wednesday. He was that excited.

Anyway, though…I was talking about Made of Honor. The big surprise of the night was that Kevin arrived with his wife. Now, that in itself is not a big deal—but the fact that Kevin’s wife happens to be ready to give birth at any second is. Apparently, though, she once went into labor while watching a bad romantic comedy, so perhaps they were just trying to speed up the process a bit. They’re having a boy, so maybe they thought he’d want none of that, so he’d just decide to head out early.

But alas, there were no mid-movie births to add excitement to the evening. All we had was a really bad chick flick. Now, I didn’t expect this one to be the greatest movie ever, but I did go in with an open mind—but, boy, was it bad. And when it was all over, I had a very strong urge to go home and drink. So I did. I mixed myself a vodka tonic and got to work on my review.

Tuesday was a no-screening day for me, so I ended up diving into my pile of DVDs at home instead. Since my husband hadn’t gotten home yet, I figured I’d watch P. S. I Love You. And by the time he got home—at around 9—I was one big sniffly, teary mess. And then we went downstairs and played tennis on our Wii, and I felt much better.

And then came Wednesday. In the morning, we had a screening of the David Mamet movie, Redbelt. Every once in a while, I walk out of a movie, and I don’t have a clue what to say about it—and Redbelt was one of those movies. So I had to head back to the office and sort through my thoughts and figure it all out as I started my review.

At around 5, though, I had to give up—because Neil, Jason, Bill, and I had decided to meet up for dinner/drinks before the big Iron Man screening. A still very excited Neil and his friend, Brian, picked me up at 5-something, and we met up with Jason and his girlfriend, Milu, at our favorite pre/post-screening hangout, Champpppppps. We ordered up some Blue Moons and indulged in the happy hour menu (I got a cute little pizza) and celebrated the coming of summer. By Wednesday afternoon, Made of Honor was behind us—and we were ready for the first big blockbuster of the season.

Somewhere during the meal, we all got messages from Kevin, who was already at the theater with his kids. Since another movie was still playing in the designated Iron Man theater, they weren’t going to start letting us in until 7—so he told us to take our time (which we did). We did, however, end up heading over early anyway—just to be a part of all the insanity. By the time we got there, we could see that the line was all the way through the theater and curled up around the side. No surprise, really—and we were glad that we hadn’t waited until the last minute to show up. That way, we could be safely inside before the inevitable fist fights started breaking out.

The theater lobby was absolutely packed—which only added to the excitement of the night. For the most part, I don’t tend to get really excited about screenings. Yeah, I’ll look forward to some movies more than others, but I don’t really get excited. But I’ll admit that I was totally psyched for the first big screening of the summer. That’s allowed, right? Because the first big movie of the summer is an event. And what an event this one was!

The press were all corralled over to one section of the lobby. Though there are often quite a few of us, there were tons of us this time. This is one of those screenings when everyone shows up—even those people who never usually show up for screenings (those who, let’s face it, haven’t actually written a review in ages but are still on the list anyway). There were people there that I’d never seen before—and I heard names that were previously nothing more than a name I read on our weekly emails. But, hey. It’s Iron Man.

Finally, the press were allowed in, along with a bunch of other “special guests.” It all worked out quite well, really. Everyone waited their turn. We stood in line (which we never do) and slowly made our way into the theater. Of course, by the time we got in, the usual rep had already taken our seats and reserved them for her own entourage, leaving us to sit at the side of the theater. But, well, at least we got seats, I guess.

Though we were expecting all heck to break loose, everything went really smoothly. Matt, one of our other favorite reps, did an excellent job of wrangling the crowd. Unlike The Great I Am Legend Fiasco of 2007, no one had to fight for seats. No one ended up standing in the theater, begging for a place to sit. And even the two critics who couldn’t be bothered to show up on time had seats when they arrived.

A few minutes before the movie was supposed to start, I decided to head out to the bathroom one last time. Bill and I used the Buddy System, heading out of the theater together, slightly worried that one of those people who hadn’t gotten into the theater would see us with our bathroom passes and beat us down for them. But, much to my surprise, even the lobby, things were totally calm. I was highly impressed—and I was happy to make it back in one piece.

As for the movie, well, as Michael Bay would say, it was awesome. Unlike last year’s first blockbuster, Super-Man 3, which left me feeling rather let down, Iron Man was just what I hoped it would be. And, like Neil, I could easily see it again. In fact, I have a feeling that, by now, he’s already seen it three times.

So Wednesday night was a great way to usher in the summer. And though we don’t have a lot of screenings scheduled for this month, they should be fun. I mean, who knows if Speed Racer will be any good—but at least it should be crazy fun. And the same goes for Indiana Jones (the screening of which my brother-in-law is flying down from Toronto to attend). The one screening that’s missing? Prince Caspian. Much to our shock and dismay, Disney has decided to screen it in Cincinnati only. In fact, even when Kevin and Neil found a theater that was willing to screen the movie for us for free, Disney declined. Sure, we’ve been invited to attend the screening in Cincinnati, but it’s hardly worth it. They’re screening it the night before release, which means that not only would we have to deal with a four-hour round trip (which, with gas at $3.50 a gallon, isn’t a small thing) but then we’d get back at midnight or so, and we’d have to scramble to get our reviews written in time for Friday publication. So we’re going to forget about that and see it on Friday afternoon at the Movie Tavern instead. No long commute, and it comes with a side of fried pickles. No complaints here. Or at least not many. But Prince Caspian gets the infamous Preemptive Suck nonetheless.

Right now, I’ve only got two screenings on the schedule for next week. Fortunately, I’ve got plenty of DVDs accumulating on my coffee table—so that should keep me plenty busy.

Rodent Drama

2008-04-18T19:05:00.002-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Forbidden Kingdom
Married Life
Priceless (Hors de Prix)
Street Kings

It’s been quite a week here in Rodent Land. Before you read on, if you haven’t already read Monday’s post, now’s the time to get caught up on the week’s drama.

So after Monday’s drama, I think we were all supposed to feel a bit disheartened—like we’re all just a bunch of worthless hacks. But it’s actually been a really fun week. After the initial shock and outrage over the whole thing, this whole fiasco turned out to be one of those amusing little things that we can all sit around and laugh about. In fact, we’ve learned to embrace our status as rodents, and we’ve all bonded over it. The week has just been one rat joke after another.

Fortunately, we had all kinds of opportunities to discuss it—because we had five screenings this week. We had screenings on Monday and Tuesday morning—after which Clay and I had to scramble to write up our show, since we had to record on Wednesday morning. Fortunately, it all went off without much of a hitch. All of the writing was done (miraculously, really) by 5 or 6 on Tuesday. And we were sure that it was going to be a good show.

On Wednesday morning, I got up and raced out the door at 8—in time to fill up the tank and make it to the studio in time to meet Clay at 8:45ish. We rehearsed once, only to find that, unlike last week’s show (which started out way too short), this week’s show was way too long. So we sat down and started trimming things down. Then, at just after 9, we set up the studio and got ready to go.

Now, I’m not a morning person—and, similarly, my voice is not a morning voice. First thing in the morning, I’m a little bit phlegmy—and it’s even worse during allergy season. Clay happened to be having the same vocal issues, so we ended up getting off to a late start, since we’d had to spend so much time hacking up a lung. Then we had a few false starts, after realizing we’d written some pretty good tongue twisters for ourselves (try saying “filmmaker Morgan Spurlock” a few times). Then, however, things finally came together. Our sound levels were right, our time was good, and we didn’t trip over each other nearly as much as we did last week. So then we got the show edited and ready to go. By 10:30, we were out the door and on our way to the North Star Café to celebrate over coffee and the world’s best morning glory muffins. We finally got the hang of things—just in time for John to return from Greece.

I must say, though—this week’s show was one of my personal favorites of the 14 I’ve done. You can here it for yourself at WCBE.org.

On Wednesday night, I headed out to see The Forbidden Kingdom. When I got there, I met Jason and his girlfriend, Milu, at the door, and we wandered down the hall together. Even though it was still 45 minutes before the screening was scheduled to begin, they had already started letting the crowd in. That didn’t strike us as a problem until we got inside and made our way halfway up the stairs, only to discover that our usual seats had been taken. None of the others had gotten there before us—and the reps hadn’t saved our seats (either that, or those people who were sitting there had taken the “Reserved for Press” signs off and helped themselves). So we ended up sitting at the very end of the row, in seats that didn’t make us happy at all. And I ended up sitting next to some guy who somehow managed to get a cell phone into the theater (despite the fact that they’d apparently been very strict on the no-cell-phone thing), and it kept ringing throughout the entire movie. And if his phone weren’t ringing, he was having some very loud conversation with the guy next to him. I was tempted to hit him—or perhaps grab his phone off his hip and turn it off—but I didn’t.

So after Wednesday night’s screening, we were back at it on Thursday morning—for CJ7—and then again on Thursday night for Forgetting Sarah Marshall. At the Thursday morning screening, we got to hear all of Neil’s stories about his adventures at the 88 Minutes screening on Wednesday night. Apparently, some drunk guy ran into the theater, jumped down from the balcony, and sat down in the press seats. Neil politely told the guy that he might want to move—so he did. Not long after that, a whole bunch of security guys came in and dragged the guy out. I really feel bad that I missed that one—but from what I hear about the movie, I made the better choice for Wednesday night screenings.

I did, however, also miss out on the new rep accusing Neil of making up Film School Rejects on the way into the theater, just so he could claim to be press—because she’d never heard of him. Nice.

And that takes me to Thursday night’s adventure. My husband, Paul, joined me for the Sarah Marshall screening—and as we were making our way out of the parking garage, we ran into Jason…and then we met Kevin in the lobby. So we all made our way into the theater, where we found David, sitting in the middle of the back row of the bottom section of the theater. There was a whole bunch of confusion over the press seats, though, since one of the reps had put down “Reserved for Press” signs, but then she’d written names on them—because she was apparently bringing her whole family. So after we finally figured out the whole seating situation, we settled in to compare notes on the week. Just as we were chatting, some woman from a couple of seats down got up and climbed over us to get out. On the way out, she apparently made some comment to the rep’s mom, inquiring, in the nosiest way possible, who she was. When she came back from her bathroom break, she then took aim at us.

“So you’re the press,” she said in an accusatory tone. “And who are you with?”

We all just kinda looked at each other with that Is she for real? look.

David replied to her by explaining that we all wrote for various online publications. She huffed.

“And you?” she continued, focusing her gaze on Paul and me. At this point, I was pretty much done with the woman, and I just wanted her to finish climbing over me, so I could go back to sitting comfortably, instead of scrunching up so she could stand in front of me and accuse me of stealing press seats.

“Same,” I replied.

With another huff, she returned to her seat, just two seats down from Paul, and announced loudly, “They’re not press.”

I swear David was about to get up and punch her. In fact, he told me to go slap her—since I could get away with it, being a chick and all.

So, clearly, it was a big week for Internet writer discrimination. But it seems that rodents (while prolific), are also pretty tough. I’m pretty sure we’ll survive. And, really, what doesn’t kill us will only make us stronger.

This week was definitely an exhausting one, but I must admit that it was also a whole heck of a lot of fun. I can’t wait to see what new drama unfolds next week—and I look forward to seeing the movies, too.

Dreams and Nightmares

2008-04-11T17:26:00.000-04:00

New on NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Smart People

(Don’t forget: for ITCS and more entertainment stuff, check out the NightsAndWeekends.com blog.)

This week has been a strange week for my subconscious. Last night, for instance, I had a dream that I was in an ongoing feud with Sarah Jessica Parker. I suppose I am, really—but it’s not really one that she knows about. So I guess that doesn’t really make it a feud, does it? Maybe just a grudge.

Anyway, it was a quiet week for screenings this week—which isn’t a good thing, when I’ve got a radio show to do. John’s enjoying himself in Greece, leaving me to cover the show during a couple of weeks of late-week screenings—or no screenings at all. Fortunately, this week’s show wasn’t too difficult to cover. We saw Smart People a while ago, and I jumped in with a week-old movie—The Ruins. But that’s another story for later in the post.

The first screening of the week wasn’t until Wednesday night. Everyone was heading to see Street Kings, the new Keanu Reeves cop movie, when we got an email about that Zombie Strippers screening we’d all been so looking forward to. It was going to be an evening screening—not a morning screening—and it was going to be Thursday night. Now, that wouldn’t have been a problem if I didn’t already have tickets to see Avenue Q on Thursday night with David and Deb. David and I were, naturally, devastated. But the show must go on.

But anyway…back to Street Kings. When my husband and I arrived at the theater, our usual waiting area in the hallway was empty. It’s rare that we’re the first to arrive, but no one else was there—or so we thought. A few minutes later, some of the theater staff came out to tell the rep (in a not-so-pleasant tone of voice) that there were already a few members of the press inside. After lots of finger-pointing and discussing who allowed the press to just wander into theaters all willy-nilly, they let us in, too. And, as it turns out, two of those renegade press members were David and Jason—who already had our usual seats staked out. So we wandered over and settled in for the long haul. As we were doing so, the rep came along and complained that we’d taken her seats. And we were all pretty stunned. (And David, the only one who wasn’t stunned speechless, replied, “No, you always take our seats.”)

You see, the press is a pretty important part of these screenings. There’s a reason why we’re allowed in early, before the general public. There’s a reason why we have a few seats reserved, in case we show up a bit later. It’s because, in a small way, we’re supposed to be accommodated. Of course, that doesn’t mean that we get our own private boxes with reclining seats or anything. It doesn’t mean that we get free bottles of champagne—or even free sodas, for that matter. We just get to have our seats. For the most part, we work with the reps, and they work with us. We don’t ask for much, really. And we generally like the reps—some of them, we even adore. But we were pretty shocked by this one.

You see, this rep, who was accusing us of taking her seats is notorious for going in before we’re allowed into the theater to reserve the seats where she knows we usually sit for herself and her various friends and family members. She’s been known to save very few seats for press—which once resulted in us having to take random seats in the far corners of the theater for a summer blockbuster. If I recall correctly, she was also a part of The Great I Am Legend Fiasco. Now, she’s not the norm. Most reps are wonderful. Sure, they bring family and/or friends, but they don’t bring whole herds. And they tend to know where we like to sit, so they save seats accordingly—which is why the seats in the middle of the top row are typically reserved for Joyce and Rico, and the seats on the right, toward the front, are saved for John and Clay, and the seats at the front of the upper section, in the middle of the row, are generally reserved for the Internet Mavericks. There’s just this one rep who doesn’t seem to care. She also tends to get a bit snippy without really thinking. For instance, she once yelled at David for sitting in a press seat—even though, um, he’s press.

Now, it’s our job to see the movie. To take it all in. To see as much as we can and report back to our readers/listeners. We all have our ideas of where/how we like to watch movies. Some people like to sit up front; some people like to sit in the back; some people like to sit in the middle. I, for instance, tend to get sick if I sit too close. So all we ask, really, is to be able to sit where we feel we get the best experience. In fact, we even show up early so we can get those seats.

On the other hand, the rep’s job is to make sure that the screening goes smoothly—that the press get their seats, that the right number of people get into the screening, and that, generally, people are happy. Once the movie starts, the rep’s job is to keep track of the audience’s reactions to the movie. (And the rep in question, incidentally, keeps track of these reactions using the light of a cell phone or a bright, light-up pen, which inevitably blinds anyone who’s sitting nearby.)

Now, I really try not to let my general experience effect my review—but I will admit that being snapped at…and/or not getting a decent seat, even when I show up 45 minutes early…and/or being blinded by a rep’s cell phone every couple of minutes during the movie does tend to make me pretty cranky. Most of the time, I just try to suck it up and deal—but, sheesh…don’t complain when I sit in the seat that I’m completely entitled to sit in (and that I always sit in). That’s just not cool.

Incidentally, it wasn’t really because of the blinding light and the snippy rep that I didn’t like Street Kings. Mostly, it was because I was bored. And I think Neil said it best when he pointed out that it was just one soundtrack change away from the greatest comedy of the year.

But anyway…enough of my whining and complaining. I’ve gotten this week’s diva moment out of my system (I feel much better, thanks), and now I can move on.

When I got back from the screening on Wednesday night, I had a radio script waiting for me. Since I’m beyond this week’s diva moment, I’m not going to say a single thing about the fact that it didn’t show up until less than 12 hours before we were supposed to start recording. I will, however, point out that the whole thing made me very, very nervous.

You see, this week, with John on vacation and all, Clay and I were on our own. This was all very new to us—since (a) Clay and I had never done the show with just the two of us, and (b) John is usually the one who handles the technical side of the show. So this would be the first time that I was responsible for editing the show solo—and it would also be the first time that Clay and I did the show…um, duo. To further complicate things, we were on a pretty tight timeline. Our studio time started at 9, and we had a screening starting at 11. Yeah, two hours may seem like a whole lot of time to do a five-minute radio show, but that’s not always the case. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but remember the time that John and I didn’t leave the studio until after noon—and that was when John was handling all the technical stuff, as opposed to some relatively clueless newbie. Oh, and I also didn’t get the script until I got back from my screening, which didn’t give me a whole lot of time to feel settled into the show.

Thus, sleeping on Wednesday night required slight medicinal assistance. And I kept waking up, shaken by nightmares about the show. In one, we got into the studio, and it was covered in giant bugs—and they kept changing into new and equally horrifying bugs. Big, fuzzy caterpillars. Giant ladybugs. Huge spiders. Creepy-crawly beetles. And this all made it very difficult to calmly record and edit a show. In another dream, I discovered that Clay had decided to bring in two pretty young girls to appear on the show with us (for those of you who know Clay, this isn’t much of a stretch). Unfortunately, these girls couldn’t write, and they were impossible to work with. That, and they were pretty much brain-dead. And, well, there’s barely room for three on the show—so four is right out. So by the time we were supposed to leave for the screening, we hadn’t gotten anything yet, so we just packed up and left anyway.

Needless to say, I didn’t exactly wake up feeling calm and well-rested on Thursday morning. Mostly, I was tired and shaky. But I scarfed down my breakfast, gathered the necessary notes, and made my way into rush hour traffic to meet Clay at the station.

Fortunately, none of my nightmares came true. There weren’t any giant bugs or young bimbos in the studio. The editing actually went quite smoothly. And we were out of the studio in plenty of time to enjoy some coffee and a scone before the screening started at 11.

However, I think Clay’s dream may have come true that morning. Instead of the usual male-dominated crowd at the screening, it was all women…and Clay. I was there, along with Lori and Hope and our lovely rep, Brook. Even Joyce showed up sans Rico. Of course, as David pointed out to me later, we were all much too old for Clay. But it’s a start.

The movie of the day was The Counterfeiters. The guys didn’t show up because they weren’t in the mood for another Holocaust movie—but they missed out. It was a wonderful movie.

Then, on Thursday night, as the rest of the gang made their way to the bar for pre-movie libations, my husband and I picked up a pizza and headed to David and Deb’s for our pre-show meal. We were a bit bummed about missing Zombie Strippers, but, as it turns out, Avenue Q was well worth it. So I guess I don’t feel so bad anymore. There’s always DVD.

Today, I got to deal with one of the other issues that one faces in doing a scheduled radio show: release date changes. On the site, it’s not really a big deal if a movie gets bumped. Sure, I tend to create my schedule in advance, but I can just do a little switcheroo and move on. Sometimes it’s a bit inconvenient—but not often. All that changes, however, when you’ve got to plan for a radio show. For instance, I spent this morning trying to pull together my thoughts on The Counterfeiters. Then, this afternoon, I got an email to let me know that it had been bumped another week. Then there was this whole thing about having a screening on Tuesday morning—when we’d already had something else scheduled for Tuesday morning. So we settled on Monday morning instead and called it good. So, when the smoke had cleared, I called Clay and roused him from his nap to rework next week’s show for the second time this week.

Clearly, Clay and I have learned a lot about each other this week—much in the same way that newlyweds return from their honeymoon, only to discover that her new husband leaves his dirty underwear on the floor and his new wife puts the toilet paper roll on upside-down. This week, I’ve learned that Clay gets his scripts in at the last minute, and Clay has learned that I tend to be a detail-obsessed ball of stress. Fortunately, we still love each other anyway. At least for this week.

S…L…O…W…

2008-04-07T10:49:00.002-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
The Ruins
Leatherheads
Nim’s Island
Flawless
21

For In the Cheap Seats and more, be sure to check out the NightsAndWeekends.com Blog.

Ever have one of those weeks when you feel like you haven’t accomplished a single thing? Yeah, that’s this week. You see, at some point this week (I think it was Monday afternoon), my Internet connection went down for about an hour and a half. Since then, it’s been pretty much working on hand-crank speed. To illustrate, at one point, I tried to load the N&W.com homepage. Now, that’s not a huge page to load. After a couple of minutes, though, I decided that I might as well take a break and eat my lunch. When I came back, maybe a half hour later, the page still had not loaded. Conveniently, the same happened when I attempted to load the page for my service provider.

Now, I realize that there was a time—not so long ago—when I lived without the Internet. Though I can barely imagine that world anymore, I do remember that time. But here’s the thing: those days are no more. We have the Internet. We have all these pages, just waiting for us to visit. And when they’re there but you can’t get to them, it’s even more frustrating than their not being there at all.

And, of course, to make matters worse, I run an online publication. It’s my job to be online. And when I can’t, well, that pretty much blows the whole week. It also makes me seriously cranky.

But anyway…let’s talk about the movies. This week’s craziness started on Tuesday morning, with our screening of Nim’s Island. This was all very exciting because (a) I was kinda looking forward to the movie and (b) we were having the screening at a different theater than usual. This meant no free coffee but it also meant that the screen would be clean, the sound would be good, and everything would pretty much go off without a hitch. And it did. Before I ran out the door, I brewed myself a big mug o’ coffee, and I gathered up some homemade cookies to share with the gang. When I got there, David was already there, eating some sort of fast-food breakfast in his car (oh, the glamorous life of a film critic). We chatted for a while as he finished, and then we made our way to the theater. And here was the first (and only) hitch of the screening: the doors were locked. Now, there are a whole bunch of doors at this theater, and we checked every last one of them. They were all locked. Fortunately, though, it was a pretty nice day (hooray for the gradual approach of spring!), so we didn’t mind standing around outside. Eventually, though, Brook, our friendly rep and theater employee, showed up with her keys and let us in, and all was good. We then wandered into the theater, took our seats, and settled in.

The talk of the day was an article that had been published in the New York Times that morning—about the gradual extinction of newspaper film critics. It’s pretty sad, but I have to admit that I’m a part of the problem—as well as a part of the solution. On one hand, it’s Internet Mavericks like me who have destroyed the newspaper industry. After all, why would you want to dig out Friday’s paper for the movie reviews when you can check online (where you can find every single review we’ve written, neatly archived online, at any time of the day or night, from wherever you happen to be)? At the same time, with the disappearance of your friendly neighborhood film critic, now’s the time to find your friendly Internet film critic—someone who’s interesting and entertaining and insightful and there when you need her/him. If you’re looking for someone like that, I have someone I could recommend…

Anyway, the article discusses how the disappearance of newspaper critics is especially bad for smaller filmmakers—who rely on the critics to spread the word about their movies. But don’t worry, filmmakers—there are some of us out here who are still watching, and who still appreciate all your hard work. The reviews are still out there. People just have to get used to finding the information in a different way.

After our scholarly and insightful discussion, the movie began. At first, I found that I wasn’t really thrilled by it—but I really wanted to like it, and I was willing to accept that the film was just made in a different, rather child-like, style. And I was okay with that. For a while. But then Jodie Foster turned all crazy and spastic, and the lizard squawked like a bird, and it got worse and worse and worse. Afterwards, we stood outside the theater and laughed at (not with) it. And the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I really wanted to like that movie, darnit, but they made me hate it. And on Tuesday night, when I arrived back at the very same theater for our screening of Leatherheads, when someone asked me what I’d thought of Nim’s Island, my response was to huff and say, “Poop sandwich.” (What can I say? A stupid movie called for a stupid response.)

That night, we ended up seated by The Obnoxious People who seem to follow us around. They always sit right by us (sometimes defiantly settling into reserved press seats) for (I’m pretty sure) the sole purpose of driving us completely out of our minds. These people are loud. They’re obnoxious. And the talk (loudly) through the entire movie. And they’re always there.

But even more obnoxious than The Obnoxious People was the woman from the radio station that was hosting the screening. She started with her whole spiel a full half-hour before the screening started—and we were forced to listen to her crack jokes that only she found funny for the entire time. And that’s when Kevin came up with the whole KickThePuppies.org scam—but that’s another discussion for another day (or maybe not).

After seeing Nim’s in the morning, I found myself being much kinder to Leatherheads that night. That’s not to say that it was a brilliant movie, but it was much better than Nim’s (which is currently sitting in Jason’s bottom five for the year). So I guess Leatherheads just lucked out. If Nim’s had been any good, perhaps I would have hated it. Then again, probably not. How can anyone hate Clooney and Zellweger? I’m pretty sure it’s not physically possible.

On Wednesday, we had a day off. So, with my husband out of town on business, I chose to spend the evening watching bad reality TV. And it felt so good.

But we were back at it again on Thursday. In the morning, we were back to the free coffee (which, just for the record, almost made me gag in the middle of the movie) for our screening of Smart People. Before the movie, we gathered around to dis on Nim’s and generally compare notes. Then Neil showed up wearing his very stylish “My Mom Loves Gerard Butler” shirt and began singing the praises of the movie we were about to see. He’d actually seen it at Sundance and had loved it so much (in much the same way that his mother loves Mr. Butler) that he couldn’t wait to see it again. He’s crazy like that. But, hey—it’s a good movie.

Once again, Thursday was another two-screening day—but we had a lot of time between the two, since the second one was a late, late screening. At 10 p.m. No kidding. But, well, it was The Ruins, and we’d all been looking forward to seeing it. And since this was the only chance we’d have to see it, we decided to suck it up and drink a little extra coffee. We also decided to meet up for drinks before the screening—and Jason and I split a giant dessert, which we figured would keep us wired through the screening.

When we got settled into our seats, I realized that (a) it was late at night, (b) I was watching a scary movie, and (c) I was going to end up going home to an eerily empty house. That, my friends, is what I call dedication to my job.

When it was all over (thanks to an endless number of pre-movie trailers), it was almost midnight, so we all went our separate ways—Jason and I headed to our homes to crash, while Neil and Kevin went to start recording Fat Guys.

Normally, this is where I’d wrap up the week’s report. But since my Internet connection was ridiculously slow on Friday (the cable company says it’s either a bad line or a bad modem—and they claim that they’ll be by to check it out on Tuesday night), I didn’t get my weekly post up then, so I’ll add a little more to the week’s report.

On Friday night, I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Clay had some tickets to head to OSU to attend a screening with Oscar-winning director Milos Forman. You might know him from such films as One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Amadeus, The People vs. Larry Flint, Hair, or Man on the Moon. The movie we were seeing, however, was called Taking Off. It was Forman’s first American movie—made in the early ‘70s, after he left Czechoslovakia. Though the studios were big on tiny-budgets at the time, most of those tiny-budget films (including Taking Off) ended up flopping. For that reason, no one’s really seen Taking Off. In fact, Forman himself admitted that he hadn’t seen it in 30 years. It’s not on DVD, and it’s not on VHS—and Forman was impressed that someone managed to get their hands on a print.

The whole evening was fascinating. First of all, how often do you have the chance to be in the presence of an Oscar-winning director? And, then, how often do you get to watch a rarely-seen movie with that Oscar-winning director? Though it wasn’t very well received at the time (most likely because it hit a bit too close to home for most viewers), it was a smart and entertaining little film. And the short Q&A after the film was absolutely fascinating. Forman talked about filmmaking in a totalitarian regime vs. filmmaking in Hollywood. He talked about his influences. And he talked about working with a young Jack Nicholson (on-set, he’s incredibly professional—though, off-set, Forman says he’s still not sure whether or not Nicholson is sane). And, when all was said and done, it was one pretty cool evening—especially for geeks like me.

But now it’s time to settle in and start another week. It’s going to be a slow week for screenings—just one Wednesday night and maybe one on Thursday morning (if my very first engineering of the show goes smoothly enough to make it to the screening on time). We did, however, just get an email saying that they might be screening Zombie Strippers for us this week—so that might make for an interesting adventure.

All in One Go

2008-03-28T18:23:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Run Fat Boy Run

(For my weekly Cheap Seats report, as well as other entertainment-related stuff, check out the new N&W.com Blog)

This week, we got all of our screenings done in one go—or at least I did.

This week, I only had two screenings—and they were both on Tuesday. We started Tuesday morning, with a screening of 21. I got to the theater at the usual 10:45 and made myself at home. I grabbed myself a cookie and filled my coffee mug, and I mingled. Lately, our screenings have been rather few and far between—and it was only the fourth morning screening of the month—so it was nice to have the time to catch up.

And, as it turned out, we had plenty of time to do our catching up. After we’d been standing around for a while, we found out that the print had shown up at the last minute—actually, just before I got there. It also showed up all in the wrong order. So they were scrambling to get everything set up for us. Ten minutes, we were told. Maybe 15. Actually, how about 30? But, for once, we didn’t really mind. We just kept on chatting and drinking our coffee.

Once we finally got into the theater and the movie started, things were still a bit…off. There were some blinky things over on one side, and the image seemed a bit messed up. I was a bit worried that we’d get a few minutes in and find that we needed to stop again and wait for them to try again. But, fortunately, that didn’t happen. And it was lucky for us, too—since the movie was a whole lot longer than we’d expected.

The best thing about 21: the “rewind” scene—when Laurence Fishburne goes into the casino security room and has the security guy rewind the recording from the casino floor. That means that our Year of the Rewind count is now up to three:
21
Funny Games
Vantage Point
(Honorable Mention: Be Kind, Rewind)

In fact, our favorite quote of the year is now, “STOP! Rewind that!”

By the time we got out of the screening, it was nearly 2. John and I had planned to have lunch at our favorite little place down the street—and by the time we got there, we pretty much had the place all to ourselves.

After lunch, I headed back to the office. I got settled back in at about 3:30—which meant that I had a whole three hours to finish some work before I had to leave again for the evening screening. Fortunately, I managed to get a few things done—including most of my 21 review—before hitting the road once again.

At about 6:45, I arrived at the theater for our Run Fat Boy Run screening. Since most of us absolutely adore Simon Pegg, Fat Boy was one of those movies that we’d been eagerly anticipating for ages. So you can imagine our anger and frustration last fall when we were so close to seeing it and then the studio decided to bump the release date back a bit. But at least they screened it for us. Despite the fact that David Schwimmer (who, let’s face it, hasn’t had the best of luck when it comes to movies) had directed it, we were having a hard time pretending not to be excited. And, fortunately, we weren’t disappointed. Thank you, Mr. Pegg.

So there you have it—one big, long, crazy day of screenings, and I was done for the week. Of course, that’s not to say that I couldn’t have done more. There was actually a screening of Stop-Loss on Wednesday night, but there was just no dragging me to another war movie. Seriously, people, can’t you think of anything else? Haven’t we seen enough war movies already? The fact that it starred Ryan Phillippe didn’t help. Even Joseph Gordon-Levitt couldn’t talk me into it. Instead, I stayed home and caught up on my pile of DVDs.

Next week, however, won’t be so easy. Next week, we’ve got screenings on Tuesday morning and evening, Thursday morning and night (by night, I mean 10 p.m.—blech!), and Friday morning. Only time will tell if I manage to get up for that Friday morning screening—but, right now, my guess is no.

Back to the Grind

2008-03-21T12:16:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Drillbit Taylor
Funny Games
The Bank Job
10,000 B.C.

It’s never easy to settle back into the everyday grind after a crazy film festival weekend. First of all, I always come back dead tired. With all that excitement—and all that running around—it’s not until I get back that I really realize how worn out I am. Mostly, I just want to go home and sleep. But, at the same time, there’s so much to do to catch up that I feel like I have to work even more (after all, I was gone for four days—and now I have 15 extra reviews to write).

So when I got home, there wasn’t a lot of time to hang out and get caught up on sleep. In fact, when I got home on Sunday, I dove back into my DVDs—so I’d have stuff to publish on the site this week. And though I didn’t have any screenings on Monday (thank goodness), I still had DVDs to watch.

My first screening back was on Tuesday morning. Since it was a limited-release documentary (The Rape of Europa), there wasn’t a big crowd of critics. John was there with his friend, Laura, and a few others wandered in, too—but not many. So we were spread out throughout the theater. I was on my own in the dark, clinging to my cup of coffee—and despite the fact that the movie was really interesting (and I plan on taking my husband to see it—because I know he’ll find it absolutely fascinating), it was pretty long. And it was sometimes subtitled. And it was just one of those days. So I had to fight to stay conscious. But (other than a few subtitles that I may have missed when my eyes closed for a couple of seconds), I managed to make it through without curling up and falling asleep. It definitely wasn’t easy, but I was pretty determined.

The big screening of the week, though, was on Wednesday night. Though I felt like I hadn’t been to an evening screening in ages (actually, it had been two weeks—since I missed last week’s screenings), I fell right back in step. You might say I went into autopilot: make dinner, get ready, eat, run out the door, drive to the theater.

The band of regulars had already started to gather by the time I got there, and it felt like a reunion. Since last week’s screenings were pretty last-minute, people were all over the place, so it felt like we hadn’t seen each other in ages—especially since we usually see each other at least a couple of times a week. But we had plenty of time to catch up—because, shortly after we got there, we found out that, even though the screening was scheduled to begin at 7, the previous movie wasn’t ending until 6:55.

Fortunately, though, that was the only glitch of the night. As soon as the credits started rolling, they let the press in, and the rest of the crowd (who had lined up calmly and quietly down the hall) came in shortly thereafter. We got settled in as quickly as possible, and they started the movie only 15 minutes later than scheduled. Not bad at all.

This week’s screening was Drillbit Taylor—the new Owen Wilson movie. Though I was a bit concerned that it would be just another Superbad, it was actually cute—and not as obnoxious as it could have been. Nothing brilliant—just fun. And perhaps I was just laughing because I was tired, but the rest of the audience was laughing with me, so that must be a good thing, right? Then again, people laughed at Norbit, too—so who knows.

There was actually one more screening this week. Shutter was screening at 9:00 on Thursday night, but I decided it just wasn’t worth the late night. After all, I’d already had to get up a little earlier on Thursday morning—because I had to get some work done before heading downtown to engineer this week’s radio show. I’m not on it this week (but I’ll give the old guys credit—it’s still a great show), but I did the computer stuff. Normally, that’s John’s job, but since he’s going on vacation for a couple of weeks next month, leaving Clay and me to fend for ourselves, he figured I should probably know how to do all that stuff. So I’ve spent the last two weeks learning how to record and edit the show. Fortunately, their recording this week was so clean that I had very little to edit. Hopefully, Clay and I manage to do the same when John’s gone next month.

And now it’s Friday again. I seem to have made it through the week in a semi-comatose state—but, according to my planner, I seem to have gotten a few things done. So that’s a good thing. I’ve even finished a couple of my film festival reviews (13 to go!).

Next week, though, it the screening we’ve all been waiting for: Run, Fat Boy, Run. It was on the grid for a couple of weeks in the fall, but then the studio pushed the release date. Since we all love Simon Pegg, we can’t wait for the screening. And, in the meantime, I plan to get caught up on some sleep. Just wake me when it’s Monday, okay?

CIFF Report: Day 4

2008-03-17T10:25:00.001-04:00

There are some people who take the entire film festival week off and see 30-some movies. I overheard someone yesterday saying it was his 36th. In 11 days. For those of you who aren’t all that good at math, that means going to three or four movies every day for a week and a half. And that, my friends, is insane. Of course, my husband did point out yesterday that these people aren’t actually writing about these movies later. They’re not frantically taking copious notes between movies, trying to keep track of details and form intelligent opinions of each one. And, well, three movies a day isn’t all that bad. And even if you see four, you get to take a break in the middle. But, if you ask me, it’s still insane.

I, for instance, had pretty much had it by Sunday morning. I’d been through 13 movies in three days. I’d been running from 8:00 or so in the morning until midnight. And I’d been fighting off the record-breaking crowds. And I was beat. I was tired and cranky. But I had a few more movies to go—so I got up, ate a nice, big breakfast, packed my bags, checked out of the hotel, and hit the road again.

The whole valet thing made it a whole lot easier—and we arrived at the festival in no time flat. In fact, we even took a few minutes to sit around in the food court to rest up before we needed to get in line for Movie #1.

At 11:10 or so, we made our way over to the theater, picked up our dailies, and found some seats. Pass-holders were already settling into their seats throughout the theater, and as I geared up for another day, I did some eavesdropping.

Across the theater, two women were talking about all the records that the festival had broken. They had had the biggest Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and (we found out later) Saturday ever. Just during the 7:00 slot on Saturday alone, they’d had 2800 people. As one of the women pointed out, “That’s great for them…but it’s not so great for the rest of us.” And she’s right. The festival was absolutely wonderful. The movies were great. And it was actually pretty well-organized. But the crowds were insane. The theater—and the area around it—isn’t really big enough to accommodate 3,000 people at once. It’s exhausting to fight the crowds. And as more people started showing up over the weekends, it got tougher and tougher to make it into each movie I’d planned. Even though I was a pass-holder—which meant that I could get into whatever I wanted—I still had to show up extra-early just to get a seat. Most of the time, I couldn’t take breaks between movies. As soon as I got out of one, I’d have to rush through the crowded hallways to get in line for the next one. And while I still enjoyed the whole thing immensely, I did kinda wish that some of those other people would just go home. And while I’m thrilled that CIFF keeps growing every year, it’s definitely exhausting to try to battle those extra attendees.

I also overheard a couple of guys talking. One asked the other how he was doing, and he replied, “I’m sad it’s the last day.”

“Sad,” the other one agreed, “…and glad.”

I agreed with him. I was sad that it was ending—because it had been such a wonderful weekend of movies. But I was also looking forward to going home. To sleeping in my own bed. To rejoining normal society.

That, and I was getting cranky. When I heard people singing that horribly catchy festival trailer song as they walked down the hallway, I had to force myself not to get up, run out into the hallway, and punch them in the face. It’s a great song and all (Really, it is. You can listen to it at http://www.myspace.com/thetwilightcleveland), but I just don’t want to hear it again for a while. I also don’t want to hear people singing it in the hallway. It could actually make my head explode.

At the last minute, Jing came running in and took the seat that we’d saved for him. We talked a bit about The Art of Negative Thinking, which he’d seen instead of going to Deficit with us. And then the movie began.

Movie #1 was Ben X, a Dutch/Belgian movie that was Belgium’s entry to this year’s Oscars. It’s about an autistic teenager and the teasing he endures in the real world—so he ends up retreating to an online video game, where he’s a conquering hero. It wasn’t an easy movie to watch—really, it was like a kick in the face—but it was a wonderful film.

When it was over, the three of us rushed out of the theater to the next theater over, where we got in line for Movie #2. As we waited patiently for the previous movie to finish letting out, a couple of women tried to cut through the line to get into the theater. They were stopped by festival staff, but then they pointed out that a couple of other pass-holders had just been let in. A little old lady volunteer (who clearly didn’t know the way things worked around here) said, “Oh, they’re just going in to put down their coats.”

The other women thew a fit, saying that that wasn’t allowed—that “these people [pointing at us] have been patiently waiting, and you can’t just let them [pointing to the theater] walk in and put down their coats.” She got one of the other volunteers and explained the whole situation again, obviously irate. The poor volunteer tried to calm her down for a while, admitting that it shouldn’t have been done that way. And then she opened up the theater for pass-holders—and instead of getting in line behind those of us who had been waiting patiently, the complaining women cut in front of us and went right in. So much for fairness.

The funny thing about it, though, was that I knew one of the women who had gone in to put down their coats. I mean, I don’t know them personally, but it was—no surprise—the obnoxious woman who acts like she owns the place. The one I ran into already during my second movie on the very first day—the one I’d remembered (with not the fondest of memories) from last year. She definitely knows exactly how things work. She knows that you have to get in line. And, obviously, she’d taken advantage of the poor little old lady, who didn’t know any better—and who obviously got an earful for it. Shame on you, Nancy.

Despite all that, though, we still managed to get in and get seats. Pretty good ones, actually. But we knew that we had to rush over—because it was one of those movies that was already on stand-by. And it was definitely crowded. And since there were so many people to get in, the movie started late—which made all kinds of people all kinds of angry. I heard one woman complaining about the delay to the very same volunteer who’d had to hear about the seat-reserving fiasco. I just heard her say, “I know. I’ll take care of it,” as she rolled her eyes and walked away. I really did feel bad for the staff—because there were some pretty irate people walking around those last few days, and the staff did a really good job of not killing any of them. Considering the thousands of people crowding the halls, things actually ran incredibly smoothly.

So Movie #2 was Mongol, the Oscar-nominated epic. It was one of the longer movies of the festival, and I knew that there were all kinds of movies starting quite shortly after Mongol let out. As the movie ran on, I could see people start to fidget. I saw them pulling out their dailies and checking their schedule. And I watched many of them walk out before the movie ended—all so they could catch the next movie. I, however, stuck around—and I was glad I did. Mongol is an incredible movie. Not flawless, mind you, but it was pretty darn stunning.

When we left Mongol, we still had one more movie on the schedule for the day. I was planning on a comedy, and Paul wanted to see the World’s Greatest Commercials. But it was already after 4:00, and we were both beat. I knew I could sit through another movie—but I wasn’t sure if I could sit through another movie and then drive all the way home. That, and after seeing two more great movies, I didn’t want to jinx it. Last year, the last movie I saw was one of the worst ones of the week—and I didn’t want that to happen again. I wanted to leave it on a good note—and I wanted to leave with a good record. So we decided to call it a day. Jing, too, was heading home, so we said our good-byes as he went to get his parking validated and we went to get some lunch. Then we geared up for the two-hour drive back home, eager to unpack and collapse on the couch.

But wow…what an experience! Despite all the crowds and the severe exhaustion (and despite the fact that I wore myself out to the point of illness), I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. After 10 weeks or so of heading to the theater every week to see mostly bad movies, I spent four days watching some really good movies. Of the 15 that I saw, there was only one that I’d contemplated walking out of. Everything else was good—or even excellent.

So thanks, CIFF, for a great weekend—and thanks for giving me hope for the future of movies. See you next March!

CIFF Report: Day 3

2008-03-16T09:35:00.001-04:00

When I got back to the hotel on Friday night, my husband, Paul, was already here—so there were two of us to get ready and out the door on Saturday morning. Fortunately, we also had an extra hour to catch breakfast, so I figured we could get up at 8 and still make it to the festival in time to park and meet up with John and Jing before our 11:45 movie.

While I was in the shower, John called to say that the valet parking was the way to go—and since I had both my media pass and a corporate pass from WCBE, that meant that the valet parking was free. So we decided to check it out. We left the hotel by 10:15, and we were out of the car and headed inside by 10:30. No standing outside, and no waiting for shuttles. It was wonderful.

Jing and John were both on their way when we got there, so we waited in the mall’s beautiful (but not necessarily comfy) atrium. Before we headed to the movie (and since we had all kinds of time), Jing got himself some Chinese food for, um, breakfast while I ran to get the dailies.

John had read a great review of Movie #1 in the local paper that morning, so we decided to get there early to get our seats. So we wandered over at 11:15 and found that there were already people in line. Apparently, there had been an early movie added to that theater, and it was getting out a little later than planned, so we’d have to hang out for a while. John doesn’t wait in lines, so he was a bit miffed by the whole thing, but I figured at least we were at the beginning of the line, so we’d get decent seats.

We ended up sitting in front of a woman with her own cushion. Clearly, she was one of the crazy regulars—because she also sang along with the festival trailer at the top of her lungs…totally off-key.

Movie #1 was Kidz in da Hood, a Swedish drama/musical. It wasn’t quite up to the level of stuff we saw on Friday, but I liked it anyway. In fact, my track record was pretty good. That was my 10th movie of the festival, and I’d only seen one that I didn’t really like. Not bad.

After the movie got out, John announced that he was going up to the VIP suite. Our corporate passes entitled us to get into the mysterious suite in the Ritz, where they had some snacks and (more importantly) some nice chairs—and (according to Clay) some great bathrooms. The problem was that, a few years ago, John and Clay got thrown out of the VIP suite because they only had media passes—and only two of the four of us had corporate passes. So we’d have to sneak the other two in. Paul seems to have a talent for sneaking into places and not getting caught, so he slipped his pass inside his jacket and followed. We told Jing to do the same. And then we went though the secret process of getting to the suite. You have to get to the Ritz and take one elevator up to the sixth floor—and then you have to take another elevator up to the seventh floor. I have no idea how John found the place, but there it was—a tiny room with a few tables and chairs and some tables of food. We didn’t have a lot of time before the next movie, so we quickly grabbed some munchies and a Coke and sat down for a few minutes. I downed mine in record time and went off to check out the infamous bathrooms (which, just for the record, were very nice). As I was walking back in from the bathroom, I noticed a sign that showed all of the passes that were allowed in the suite—and the media pass was one of them. Apparently, we didn’t need to sneak in after all. But it was fun anyway. But then it was time to leave again. We went back through all the secret passages, back to the crowds, which seemed to have grown exponentially since we’d left. The hallways were crowded with ticket-holders and stand-by moviegoers who were waiting in their lines, and we had to fight our way to get inside.

Since we’d only gotten in 15 minutes before Movie #2, the theater was already filling up. We tried to take some seats near the back, but some guy told us that media passes weren’t allowed in the passholders-only seats (which is totally not true, from what I’ve been told before), but we moved anyway. We ended up in the front of the theater, where we had to split up to get seats (unless we wanted to sit in the front row). It was only 2:00, but already, it was insane. I started to dread the evening movies.

Movie #2 was Battle in Seattle, Stuart Townsend’s movie about the 1999 World Trade Organization meetings in Seattle and the protests that got out of control. The whole thing was pretty well done, but, as I explained later, that’s why I don’t usually put dramas on my list. It was only the second movie of the day, but it was so heavy that I just wanted to leave and take a nap. If you’re seeing four movies in a day, you can’t watch a bunch of heavy dramas—because it’ll kill you.

So after a heavy drama, we all needed a drink—so we headed back to Tower 230, our restaurant from Friday, for more martinis. Jing was excited about getting another round of pickles—and we once again ordered a ton of food. I definitely needed it—since we hadn’t gotten lunch, and it was already 4. Time flies at these things.

We didn’t have three hours to hang out at the restaurant and drink martinis this time, though (though John still managed to down another three) because we knew the next round would be a busy one. So after a quick stop at the mall’s fabulous dollar store (where John buys a year’s supply of spices), we headed back to the theater. We were 45 minutes early, but we were still in line behind a handful of people. If we’d gotten there 30 minutes early, we probably would have been out the door.

Again, John, fueled by three martinis, was totally livid about having to wait in line, but we managed to keep him relatively calm. Then one of the festival staff members came up to make an announcement, and I was a bit worried that all hell would break loose. The announcement, however, wasn’t a bad one. They had gotten permission to run the movie in another theater—but only for pass-holders—so we were led to another theater across the hall. That, of course, was insane, but at least we made it in, and we got seats that weren’t in the front row, so we were completely happy.

Once we got inside, Jing decided that he wanted ice cream, so he wandered off. We wished him luck, figuring we’d never see him again—because I figured one could easily get trampled to death in the 7:00 crowds. He did, however, make it back in one piece.

Movie #3 was Priceless, a French romantic comedy that I’m not allowed to review, so I’ll just say that I liked it and move on.

After the movie, John headed back to his hotel to call it a night before getting up at the crack of dawn and heading home—so we said our good-byes in the crowded hallway. Jing wandered off to a movie I’d already seen. And Paul and I made our way through the crowd to see if we could get into Movie #4. We weren’t sure we’d be able to get in, but we did. We quickly took our seats and settled in. Then, as I was taking some notes, Paul wandered off to buy me a festival T-shirt. I got one of five remaining T-shirts.

As the festival staff got up to announce the movie, they also announced that the last time slot had been the biggest ever—and that 2800 people had been there watching movies. Pretty impressive for a little Midwestern festival, don’t you think?

Movie #4 was Gael Garcia Bernal’s Deficit. To be honest, I would have been okay if we hadn’t gotten in—because I was exhausted. The crowds and the heavy dramas and the crappy weather had worn me down—but I made it through one more movie, and then I was happy to head back to the valet stand and head back to the hotel. Then I slept like a rock.

Now it’s time for one last day—three last movies before I get to go home and sleep.

CIFF Report: Day 2

2008-03-15T10:03:00.000-04:00

Okay…now that the hotel Internet seems to be working again, I’m good to go for my report on yesterday’s film festival happenings.

I made my way down to the festival at about 10:15 on Friday morning, hoping to get in there early enough to take the shuttle in and meet John before our 11:30 movie. John had been in town since 8:30, since he can’t seem to sleep past 4 a.m., and he claimed to have gotten about the last parking space in the lot at that point, so I pretty much figured I’d be hopping on the shuttle from the overflow lot again—and I was right. By the time I finally got inside, it was 11 or so, and we had just enough time to make our way into the theater, check the dailies, and get to our first movie of the day.

The first movie was Gone with the Woman, a Norwegian romantic comedy of sorts. Did I mention that I love Norwegian movies? Because I do. Anyway, Gone was cute and funny and smart and painfully perceptive. It was a good pick if I do say so myself.

After the Movie #1, we had some time to hang out. Carla, one of the former reps in Columbus, was in the area, and she stopped in to say hi to John. We ended up grabbing a quick mini-lunch at KFC before running off to Movie #2.

At this point, John was pretty impressed with my first choice of the day, so I was a bit nervous about the second pick. Movie #2 was Otis, an American horror farce that could go either way. Fortunately, it was another good pick.

After we got out, we met up with Jing, one of John’s former students. Jing had shown up for some of the festival fun—and he was just in time for the biggest fun—because after Movie #2, we had scheduled some time for Happy Hour.

Our original plan of attack was to head to Houlihans for their Mini Tini Happy Hour. We stopped by and ended up chatting with a few women who were on their way to the festival to check out the shorts. But then John discovered that there were no specials on real martinis, so we headed next door to a bar that did. So we ordered up a round of martinis (gin for John, vodka for Jing, and apple for me), and then we ordered more food than three people should probably consume. The bar was loud and crazy, but we ended up sitting there for a couple of hours. I introduced Jing to his new favorite food: fried pickles. He looked at me like I was on crack when I suggested them. He also called me “very white” (Jing, you see, is from China). But, in the end, I won him over. Or perhaps it’s just that he didn’t really care so much after his first martini.

A couple of hours and three martinis later, I was ready to take on the world—and another movie. So we headed back to the theater for Movie #3. This time, we were headed to see The Substitute, a Danish sci-fi thriller. Since John had also had three martinis, he made all kinds of friends as we were waiting for the movie to begin. And then the trailer started. You see, John, as a general rule, hates the annual film festival trailer that plays before every movie. This year, it’s actually not that bad, but it’s ridiculously long. It follows some kid as he goes through his day—and then his life is changed for the better by his first independent film. The most irritating thing about it, though, is that it has this really catchy song playing in the background, and all the biggest festival geeks (the ones who like to talk really loudly before movies, to let everyone know how many movies they’ve been to and which great movies they’ve seen) all start singing along. To me, this is the most painful thing about the trailer. But, for John, everything about this trailer is painful. So as usual, John complained through the whole thing (which, actually, makes it all the more entertaining). And when it was done, I told him that three martinis actually made the whole thing easier for me to handle. We were chatting about it (John at his three-martini volume level) when the guy in front of us turned around to tell John, “It’s quiet time now.” John patted him on the shoulder and said it wasn’t quite yet—but he promised that the man wouldn’t hear a word out of him once the movie began. And he kept his promise. The women behind us, however, didn’t. I’m guessing they must have had even more martinis than we did—because they were hilarious.

After yet another hit pick with Movie #3, we rushed to get our seats for Movie #4. Then we ran out to the bathrooms. Since it was 9ish, the other bathrooms in the mall were no longer open—which meant that the line to the women’s room in the theater was ridiculously long. Also, there was no toilet paper left in any of the stalls, turning the theater women’s room into a war zone. I was happy to get out with my life.

Movie #4 was Entry Level, an American comedy. I figured it would be a nice light way to end the day. As we were waiting for the whole hoo-hah to begin, I caught a sight in the crowd. I nudged John and nodded toward it. It took a while, but then he caught sight of it, too—the woman with the headlamp. We’d heard about these people—the ones who bring real headlamps so they can read their programs in the theater before the movie starts. These people are seriously hard-core. And totally ridiculous. It was probably the funniest thing we’d seen all day.

For Movie #4, the director was there. I felt bad for the guy—because the screening didn’t go very well. The sound was bad, and the picture was slightly out of focus. But at least the movie was cute. Nothing brilliant, but I was right—a nice, light way to end the day. Afterwards, the director stuck around for a Q&A, which would have been great to attend, but it was 11:00, and we were all pretty beat. So John and Jing headed to their hotel, and I headed to my shuttle. As I waited, I chatted with a couple of women who told me which movies to avoid and which ones they’d liked. That’s one of my favorite things about the festival—comparing notes with strangers. You meet some pretty cool people at Cleveland—and it gives the whole thing a great community feel. We’re all in this thing together.

Once again, I crashed by about 1—and the alarm went off again at 8. And now it’s time to head back into the trenches for another day…

CIFF Report: Day 1

2008-03-15T00:04:00.001-04:00

I had all kinds of problems with my hotel Internet connection this morning, so I finally gave up, wrote up my post of the day, and left. But now that I’m back to the hotel for the night, it looks like things are finally up and running. So let’s talk about Thursday, shall we?

I finally made it out the door by about 8:30. It’s a long and boring drive to Cleveland—just 100 miles or so of nothing. So I spent my time singing along with the B52s and talking to my GPS. At 10:30, I finally arrived at the hotel. I’d called earlier to warn them that I was coming—and to ask if I could drop off my bags. But they did me one better—they let me check in. So I dropped my stuff off at my room and hit the road. My GPS said I’d arrive at the festival at 11, and since my first movie wasn’t starting until 11:45, that would give me time to park and settle in before rushing off—or so I thought.

When I got to the lot, there was a sign that said the lot was full. Uh-oh. So I got a ticket, drove through to the other side of the lot, gave my ticket back, and was directed to the overflow lot. Even that was packed. I’m pretty sure I got one of the last possible spots—and I was just about as far away as I could get. Fortunately, there was a shuttle, and it was right outside my car when I got out. Lucky for me.

Since it was a pretty nice, warm day, I had planned to leave my coat in the car—one less thing to drag around with me. Of course, I wasn’t planning on parking my car 20 miles away. So as the shuttle drove off, I started realizing that that had probably been a stupid move. In fact, all kinds of thoughts hit me at that point—like How late is this shuttle actually running? Will I have to walk alone in the freezing cold at 11:30, when my last movie gets out? Unlike most of these people, I didn’t have a buddy to walk with me. I was on my own. So there’s one thing that stayed in the back of my mind all day.

As we were (finally) getting off the shuttle, I struck up a conversation with one of my shuttle-mates about my bright blue media pass. We chatted about the festival—and about other festivals—and we compared notes on the day’s movies. It was wonderful to have someone to chat with, since I was there by myself. And, in fact, we were headed to the same movie at 11:45—he to the line in the hall, and me right through the doors and to my seat (ah, the joys of the bright blue media pass). We had a few of the same movies planned for the day, so I had a feeling I’d run into him again.

On my way in the door, I grabbed the Dailies, the sheet of information on the day’s happenings. I also grabbed the info package on discounts in the area—as well as the events schedule (which would help me plan Friday’s Happy Hour with John). Then I rushed into the theater at about 11:30—just as they were starting to let non-passholders in. I sat down and took a few minutes to catch my breath.

The first movie of the day was Travelling with Pets, a Russian movie about a young woman who suddenly finds herself free after her husband dies. It was an interesting movie—but since it was my first movie of the day, and I’d been rushing around all morning, a rather slow Russian movie made me a bit jittery. I’d been hoping for something thrilling, and this wasn’t it. Beautiful lead actress, though. She said very little, but she was just delightful.

A few minutes into the movie, I was relieved to find that I still had my “buffer seat” between me and the next person—but then someone showed up late and decided to climb over me. This was no small feat—as the woman was quite large. Also, she squeaked when she breathed. Great way to start the festival.

Toward the end of the movie, my stomach started growling. It’s a good thing I’d thought to eat a granola bar on the shuttle, or I’d be starving. But when the movie got out at 1:15, I rushed to McDonald’s, ordered whatever came to mind, and inhaled it as I filled in my notes from the movie. I didn’t have a lot of time to think, since my new movie started at 2:15. An hour may sound like a long time, but I needed to eat, take my notes, stop by the bathroom, and make it into the theater by at least 15 minutes before the movie. It was a rush, but I made it. And as I sat and waited for Movie #2, I pulled out my knitting and tried to relax.

As I relaxed with my knitting, I was amused to see that one of the regulars from last year was already making loud pronouncements on the other side of the theater. And she was wearing the same crazy outfit as last year. Apparently, she’d had a run-in with some guy who had taken one of the seats that she’d been saving for a friend, and the two of them exchanged some unpleasant words. Personally, I wouldn’t want to mess with her. In fact, I try to stay as far away as possible.

Just minutes before the movie started, another rather large and somewhat dopey-looking moviegoer stopped in the aisle next to me, looking around in confusion.

Please don’t sit next to me…please don’t sit next to me… I quietly chanted in my head.

“Can I climb over you there?” he asked. I groaned and let him through. He made some lighthearted comments about something-or-other and took his seat.

Movie #2 was The Art of Negative Thinking, a dark Norwegian comedy about a support group for handicapped people. I enjoyed it, but the guy next to me promptly fell asleep. The loud breathing was bad enough—but the snoring made me (and everyone around us) want to kill him. But, really, what do you do when someone’s snoring two seats down? Do you hit him? We all wanted to, but I guess we all figured that wasn’t acceptable—because no one did.

After Movie #2 got out at 3:30ish, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to do much of anything before Movie #3. Mostly, I stopped by a window in the hallway and took some notes. That’s when I realized that the tunnel vision had begun. It’s a strange phenomenon—one that, I assume, is caused by spending several hours in a dark room, staring at a bright little screen. But it’s a weird feeling. And I knew it would only get worse as the day went on.

On my way back to the theater, I ran into my friend from the shuttle and chatted with him and his friends. Then I made my way into Movie #3.

The crazy lady from last year was once again in Movie #3—loudly commenting on Movie #2 and recapping her run-in story. Once again, I pulled out my knitting and waited for someone with bronchitis or something to decide to sit down next to me.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen—and I was on my own for Japan’s Big Man Japan. I’m not really allowed to run a full review of this one, but I’ll just say that it was…odd. But fun. But really odd. It’s like reality TV meets a Japanese monster movie. Quirky and fun.

BMJ was a longer movie, so I didn’t get out until about 6:10. Again, I had just over an hour until the next movie—just enough time to get a sub from Subway, take my notes, and check my messages. Then it was off to Movie #4.

Movie #4 was Roman de Gare from France. It’s another one where I had to check in before taking my seat—another one that I’m not allowed to write about. So I’ll just say that I liked it and leave it at that. In fact, it was my favorite movie of the day.

When it got out, it was a little before 9, and I had another hour. I took the time to wander into the mall area (as far as I’d been into the mall all day—about 15 feet from the food court) and took a seat for a few minutes to call my husband. Then I headed back to the theater once again to take my seat for Movie #5 and take some notes.

I was the second person inside the theater for Movie #5. Five movies in one day. Now, it may not sound like a big deal, but it’s exhausting. I’d gone from sitting in a theater to rushing around to sitting in another theater all day. And the fact that I was doing it for work as much as for pleasure made it even more hectic. If I didn’t need to write up stuff on the movies and make assessments and take notes, it would have been less insane. And considering that it was almost 10, and I’d been there all day—after driving for two hours and dealing with that whole parking thing—it was starting to get to me. I actually thought about just giving in and going back to the room to sleep, but I’m too stubborn to give up like that. So I settled in for One Man in the Band, a British documentary on one-man bands. There were several times throughout the short movie that I wished I’d skipped it. It was decent—but not all that thrilling. So when the credits rolled, I was the first one of our small crowd out the door. Then I made my way out of the theater, praying for the shuttle to be waiting for me at the door.

And, fortunately, it was. I boarded the little bus and waited for it to take me to my car—which, I was relieved to find, was still in one piece. It was all alone in the back corner of the lot. Apparently, all those people who parked around me weren’t as hard-core as I am. I rushed to my car, plugged in my GPS, and made my way back to the hotel. By the time I got here, it was nearly midnight. So I got ready for bed, and, since I was still wide awake from all the craziness of getting back here, I got everything ready for the morning. I set out my clothes and plugged in my laptop. Then I took my notes and called it a night by about 1.

The alarm went off this morning at 7:50—and then I hit snooze. I couldn’t keep sleeping, though, because breakfast only went until 9. So I got up and jumped in the shower, feeling a bit like I’d been hit by a bus. I was relieved that John would be showing up today—because it’ll be nice to have someone in the trenches with me. That, and I’m looking forward to martini night.

It’s now 10:00, though, and I’ve got to head back to the festival. John has probably been sitting there since 8, and I’m sure he has a wonderful parking space. So now it’s time for me to hit the road and get caught up with him (and fill him in on all the things I overheard about the various movies) before our first one starts at 11:30.

CIFF Report: Day 0

2008-03-12T17:19:00.001-04:00

Okay, so I haven’t left for Cleveland yet, but today is still a big day. Today is Last-Minute Preparation Day. It’s the day to finish up some work while doing my final planning. For instance, I spent much of today looking for a new bag to take with me. You see, a bag is an important thing when you’re headed to a film festival. You need just the right bag to carry all the stuff you’ll need during the day. I, for example, need a bag that will carry my planner and my notebook, a bottle of water and some emergency snacks, my folder of festival info, my digital recorder (for interviews), my MP3 player, a book to read in my spare time, and some knitting to keep me busy while I’m waiting for the movies to begin. Yesterday, I realized that I didn’t own that bag — so I went all over town today to look for it. Alas, I didn’t find it. Really — how hard is it to find a decent messenger bag? Apparently, it’s impossible (unless, of course, you think ahead and order one online).

Then there’s the other stuff — the packing, the hotel confirmations, the checking and re-checking of directions and addresses, and, most importantly, the scheduling.

So here’s the plan for tomorrow:

The plan is to leave as early as possible (I’m going to say by 8:30 at the latest). That gets me to the hotel by 10:30ish to check in (if possible) or (more likely) drop off my bags. That’ll get me to the festival in time to wander around, pick up some more info (meaning: figure out where all the parties are taking place over the weekend), and catch my first movie at 11:45. Since I’m flying solo tomorrow, I’m planning on heading to five movies (believe me…that may sound like no big deal, but try it once and let me know what you think of that tunnel-vision feeling). Once my partner in crime (and radio) shows up on Friday, I’ll probably cut back to four. After all, John’s kinda old, and he needs to take his breaks and drink his martinis. And I have to make sure that he stays out of trouble.

Tomorrow’s schedule:

11:45: Travelling with Pets

2:15: The Art of Negative Thinking

4:15: Big Man Japan (or possibly Savior’s Square)

7:15: Roman de Gare

10:00: One Man in the Band

Somewhere in between all those movies, I’ll eat (I’m guessing McDonald’s). I’ll write down my notes. I’ll run to the other side of the mall to go to the bathroom. Maybe I’ll even run upstairs to the special VIP lounge and hang out with my fellow VIPs. Or maybe I’ll just hang in the food court with the rest of the riff-raff. And when it’s all over, I’ll go back to my room and crash. And somewhere between the end of that last movie and the beginning of my first movie at 11:30 on Friday morning, I’ll fill you all in on the day’s happenings.

If you happen to be at the film festival, keep your eyes peeled for me. I’m planning to bring some fun goodies to give away (that is, if I can find a bag that will accommodate them all).

Until then, as Clay always says, "See you at the movies!"

Burnt. Out.

2008-03-07T14:52:00.001-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
Penelope
The Other Boleyn Girl
Semi-Pro
Be Kind, Rewind
In Bruges
Vantage Point

This is a really difficult time of year for film critics. For the last two months, we’ve been sitting through all kinds of mediocre movies. Every once in a while, we walk into the theater with a slight sense of hope (sometimes even eagerness), only to walk out two hours later feeling horribly disappointed. Then we walk out of the theater into the cold, gray Midwestern afternoon. Fortunately, though, there have been a few pleasant surprises (like Penelope) and a few movies that have lived up to our expectations (like In Bruges). Sometimes, we get to really, really hate a movie, which spices things up a bit. But, mostly, when we’re asked what we thought about a movie, we tend to shrug just a little bit and say, “Eh.” The movies have been about as dull as the weather. I can imagine that the film critic suicide rate must be pretty high this time of year.

This week has actually been a busy week for screenings. It started out on Monday morning again, with the American remake of Funny Games. But it wasn’t funny at all. Or at least the movie wasn’t funny—but my fellow critics’ reactions to it were. On one side of me, David groaned. On the other, Jason heckled. In front of me, Kevin threw up his hands in frustration. And, elsewhere in the theater, John giggled. David was so angry that he almost threw the remainders of his morning soda at the screen (and I’m looking forward to reading his review—since I believe he may have threatened the director with bodily harm).

While we were standing at the theater on Monday morning, waiting for the screening to begin, we got an email about a screening of Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day that had been scheduled for Tuesday morning. But as I was getting ready to leave on Tuesday morning, I got a call from David, telling me that he’d gotten a call that the screening had been postponed. The print hadn’t arrived at the theater yet, and they’d let us know when it showed up. I quickly called John, who had just gotten into his car.

Considering that I was scheduled to appear on It’s Movie Time this week—and the Tuesday morning screening of Miss Pettigrew was the only screening of this week’s movies that was early enough to make it onto this week’s show—I was pretty disappointed that the screening had been postponed. But, on the other hand, I was thrilled that they’d called to let us know. That’s never happened before. Usually, if the print doesn’t show up, one or two people get a call, and the rest of us end up driving out to the theater anyway. So, in the grand scheme of things, I really didn’t care about the whole print-not-showing-up thing. I was just relieved that I found out about it before I ended up going on a very long and pointless roadtrip.

After a series of phone calls and emails on Tuesday, we ended up having the screening rescheduled for both Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning. I chose to go for the Tuesday afternoon screening, even though it meant I’d have to drive home in rush-hour traffic like all those people who work in all those office buildings in the city. I didn’t really mind—I just wanted to get it over with. And besides, we already had a screening scheduled for Wednesday night—and if I can avoid having to go to two screenings in one day, you can bet I will.

On Wednesday morning, I spent the entire morning agonizing over this week’s It’s Movie Time reviews. You see, another one of the frustrating things about this “movie wasteland” part of the year is that, after a couple of months, you run out of things to say. You become numb. You can no longer come up with words for “eh.” So it took longer than usual. But it had to be done, so I hunkered down and put something together.

At night, we had two screenings to choose from: 10,000 B.C. or College Road Trip. Ever since I’d seen the first trailer for College Road Trip, I’d been dreading it just a little bit. And ever since I’d seen the first trailer for 10,000 B.C., I’d been morbidly curious. And though Kevin really kinda wanted me to see College Road Trip, since I was also doing Fat Guys at the Movies this week, and since he was seeing 10,000 B.C., I left the decision up to my husband. Since he goes to one movie a week—and he had Wednesday night free—I figured I’d like him choose. So when I asked if he wanted to see College Road Trip or 10,000 B.C., he responded with, “Well, I could see 10,000 B.C., or I could just stay home.” So 10,000 B.C. it was. And, to be honest, I was relieved.

Now that I’ve seen 10,000 B.C., though, I kinda wish I’d gone with College Road Trip. At least I knew what to expect. With 10,000 B.C., I was thinking that it could actually be good—despite the whole cavemen-speaking-English thing. But it was low on action and high on [unintentional] comedy. Sure, it was entertaining—but not necessarily in a good way. But at least the two infants in the front of the theater who spent the entire movie babbling loudly seemed to have enjoyed it. So there’s that.

After the screening on Wednesday night, I rushed home to try to get to bed early—because Thursday promised to be the longest day of my life. Let’s break it down minute-by-minute, shall we?

6:45: Alarm goes off. I stumble off to the shower.

7:45: Husband leaves for work. I try to squeeze in a few minutes of work while printing off It’s Movie Time stuff.

8:00: Leave for WCBE. Get stuck in traffic, due to accident on highway.

8:40: Arrive at station (10 minutes late). John, of course, is already there. Rehearse the show, only to find that we’re way under our time allotment for the week. Scramble to beef things up a bit.

9:00: Head into the studio. Try one take, which is much too short, followed by a second take that we forget to record. Manage to record the third take, which I’m not thrilled with, but I figure it’ll do. Begin producing show.

10:30: Realize that, in order to produce the full five-minute show, we’ll end up using 20 seconds of music. It’s acceptable and all, but John and I are pretty picky. So we decide to save what we’ve got and try one more take.

11:50: Take four actually turns out really well, and John and I produce the show, agreeing that we totally lucked out. As we’re leaving the station, we start talking about the 30-second N&W.com promo that Kevin wanted me to do for Fat Guys. John starts making up a great script, and we run back into the studio to record again.

12:20: Finally head out of the studio again—with a finished show and a saved N&W.com promo.

1:00: Get back to the office and eat lunch while checking email. Try to decide between taking a nap and getting coffee. Decide that there’s no time for a nap. Choose coffee.

2:15: Head to Tim Horton’s, where I order a medium iced coffee and sit down at the sunny table by the window to try to write up my review of 10,000 B.C. End up writing, “Holy crap, I’m burnt out. I can’t seem to write a coherent thought. This week, I hate movies, and I don’t feel like writing about them, but I have to anyway.” Put review aside and decide to work on something else instead. Do some editing. Flip through film festival guide.

3:30: Head back to the office to work on 10,000 B.C. review (for real this time). Actually get something written.

5:15: Make myself some dinner and sit down in front of the TV to watch last night’s episode of America’s Next Top Model. Get through the makeover part and the photoshoot and have to turn it off to get ready for screening.

6:30: Leave for The Bank Job screening. Meet up with the gang. Shake our heads while talking about the movies we’ve seen this week.

9:45: Get out of screening and head home for a few minutes to caffeinate.

10:30: Get the call that Kevin’s on his way to the Magical Studio in the Sky. Say good-night to husband and head out the door again.

10:45: Arrive at studio and try to set up for the show. Discover that Neil’s the one who knows where everything is. Neil is in Austin for SXSW, and he’s not answering his phone. Crawl around on the floor, trying to find cables and things.

11:59: Finally ready to start recording show. I’ve been drinking Diet Coke for about two hours straight, and I now feel a terrible urge to belch. Probably, that would be okay on Fat Guys at the Movies, but I refrain anyway. After all, I’m a girl, and my mom told me that girls don’t burp. I’m also fighting the urge to slip into a coma.

1-something: Finally finish recording the show. Have been up for what feels like three days. No longer coherent. Not entirely sure of what I said on the show. Am hoping that Kevin will just edit me out. Play back part of the show on chipmunk speed. Start clearing up the studio. Or at least Kevin does. I mostly just stare blankly into nowhere.

2:30: Head home from the studio. By the time I get there, I’m shaking like a strung-out junkie. Am exhausted and over-caffeinated but strangely wide awake.

3:00ish: Climb into bed, consider sleeping through Friday.

Clearly, after all this movie-wasteland burnout, I’m desperately in need of a film festival. Fortunately, the Cleveland Film Festival is under way (Clay’s there right now, in fact). I’ve already printed out copies of the schedule, which I’ve been agonizing over for weeks. The choices are phenomenal this year—which is a good thing and a bad thing. On one hand, it means that I should be seeing all kinds of great movies next week. On the other hand, during some time slots, there are as many as three or four great movies playing at the same time—and, since I still haven’t figured out how to be in more than one place at a time, I’m going to have to make some tough decisions.

Since I’m on my own on Thursday, I’m thinking I’ll just fill up my schedule. I figure I’ll make it two five of the six possible movies, grabbing some grub from the food court whenever I have a break between shows. On Friday, John shows up, which means there will be martinis. And on Saturday, my husband shows up—and we’ve already figured out our schedule for Saturday and Sunday.

Though I’m still not entirely sure which movies I’ll be seeing next week, I know that I’ll be just what the doctor ordered: a few days away from the usual grind, a hotel with a maid and free waffles for breakfast, a martini or two, some movie-loving friends, and a whole bunch of great independent films. I can’t wait!

I'm Not Dead Yet.

2008-03-04T09:11:00.002-05:00

I know, I know...I haven't posted recently. But let me assure you that my recent sabbatical does not mean that I've quit my job and run off to Costa Rica to live a quiet, movie-free existence. Not that I haven't considered it, of course, but I haven't actually done it. On the contrary, I've been so busy with movies and things (as well as preparing for what has now become the weekly weekend road trip) that, while I've started posts recently, I just haven't had the time to finish them. And who wants to read a partial post?

Don't worry, though. You haven't been missing out on a whole lot. Mostly, we've just spent the last couple of weeks drinking coffee, eating cookies, and grumbling a lot.

I promise to get back to posting again soon. But, in the meantime, don't forget that the Cleveland Film Festival starts this week! I'll be missing opening weekend, but I'm packing my bags and heading north next Thursday (the 13th) to squeeze in as many movies as possible (as well as a martini or two).

Snowstorms and Cancellations

2008-02-15T16:45:00.002-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Jumper
Definitely, Maybe
The Spiderwick Chronicles
Persepolis
Fool’s Gold

It’s been another crazy week here in movieland. Screening-wise, though, only the beginning of the week was crazy. It started bright and early on Monday morning—and you all know by now how much I do love a Monday morning screening. They always make my Mondays so…frantic.

As soon as I got to my desk on Monday morning, I had to get right to work on one of the site’s weekly newsletters. On Thursday, I send out the Weekend Reminder, but on Monday, I send out a newsletter to my contributors. As with everything else, it seems to take more and more time every week. So there was that. There was also the fact that I hadn’t finished a review that I had scheduled for publication that afternoon. So, needless to say, I was scrambling. I ran out the door to the screening about 10 minutes later than I would have liked, and by the time I got to the theater, I was totally frazzled. And it was only 11:00.

The screening was for Jumper, which was a bit of a big deal because it was Fox—and they were allowing us to see something earlier than the night before release. It was also a bit of a big deal because it was Doug Liman, and we were looking forward to seeing it.

The screening was pretty high security. We’d gotten an email on Friday, telling us that we were each allowed to bring one guest. When we got there, there were separate sign-in sheets for critics and guests. And our favorite security guys were there, reminding us to turn off our phones. They had metal detectors and stuff, too, but they rarely use those during the day.

Our usual spot was pretty packed for the screening—thanks to guests and all. And I suppose it was only fitting that, for Take Your Friend to a Screening Day, we had to deal with the regular screening mishaps. Even more so this time, actually. Apparently, the people running the projector had never actually seen a projector before. There were all kinds of aspect ratios attempted—aspect ratios that I’ve never actually seen before. There were little tiny squares and big, stretched out, vertical rectangles. Sometimes, they projected on the floor, sometimes on the ceiling. Fortunately, they got it figured out before we were too far into the movie, but we did miss all of the trailer for the new M. Night Shyamalamadingdong movie.

The trailer itself (despite the fact that we only saw parts of it, and in strange proportions) was quite exciting. Because as soon as it was over, David and I looked at each other and said, “Laser tag!”

You see, after I saw Lady in the Water (on the same night that David ended up at a screening of My Super Ex-Girlfriend), I was so angry that I begged David to save me from future Shyamalan movies. Because I fall for them every time. I keep falling for his shameless self-promotion and his undying self-love. And I keep seeing his movies, thinking that it’s going to be something brilliant—only for it to end up being…Lady in the Water. When I saw the last one, I was even tired, sore, and heavily medicated, having just broken my rib. It took real effort to get to the theater. And I was repaid for my efforts by having to sit through Lady in the Water. It was a cruel, cruel joke. So, after that, David promised that he wouldn’t let it happen to me again. So we agreed that, on the night of the next M. Night Shyamalan movie, we’d go out and play laser tag instead. We’ve since discussed other options—such as go-karting or bowling. But, needless to say, we’ll be doing something other than attending the screening.

As my fellow blogger friends would say, “Woot!”

Anyway…after the screening, I high-tailed it out of the theater (mostly because I’d been given a medium Diet Coke instead of the small that I asked for, and I was in serious need of a bathroom). There wasn’t a whole lot of chatting for me—because I had to rush back to the office to get back to work. I’d had an hour and a half to work before the screening, and I would have just a little bit more than that before I had to run out the door to my knitting group. When Miss A showed up to start knitting, I was still scribbling notes from the morning’s screening—so I wouldn’t forget anything before I had to go to that night’s screening.

Once again, I got out of knitting early—and I had an hour and a half to kill before I had to head out to the next screening. I though about heading home for a bit, but it seemed like a waste of time and mileage—especially since my husband was in physical therapy. So I headed back to Wendy’s again.

I’m thinking I’m going to have to find a new place to hang out before Monday evening screenings—because my regular Wendy’s is just a little bit scary. Sure, there were a few normal-looking people there—most of them dining alone, like me. There was the old lady who sat down to read in the exact, same booth as last week. There were a couple of college kids. And then there was some crazy homeless guy. And there was another guy who was dining by himself—but who, from time to time, would randomly burst out in the most terrifying laugh I’ve ever heard. At one point, he just went off in this conversation about (I believe) someone who’d gotten his hands on a bunch of guns. The interesting thing is that I don’t think he had a cell phone. After I finished taking a few more notes and writing a review or two, I quietly made my way out the door—hoping that I’d be able to walk out with my life. The crazy guy shrieked something as I left. I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t about to turn around and say, “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me, crazy man?” Instead, I hurried out and spent a few minutes in someplace much more refined. And safe. Barnes and Noble.

I didn’t have long to hang out at B&N, though—because I had to get to the Definitely, Maybe screening. Before it started, we were all still talking about our new favorite critic folklore—last week’s big Roscoe Jenkins brawl. Really, this stuff never gets old.

After the screening, we compared notes on the rest of the week. There was a Tuesday morning screening scheduled for Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth, which I would have seen had it screened in December. Now, however, I was four movie reviews behind (let’s not even talk about the books and CDs), and I’d heard bad things about the movie—so I figured I’d skip it. Tuesday night was Step Up 2 the Streets, and I figured my publication schedule was already full enough, and I could do without another dancing movie. That just left Thursday night—the screening for the eagerly anticipated Be Kind, Rewind. There was a bit of confusion over the whole thing, but most of us had it down for Thursday night—so we were all planning on it.

When we’d finished our post-screening note-comparing, we left the theater to find the entire parking lot covered in white stuff. My husband had warned me that we were supposed to be dumped on, so I was prepared for it. I figured we’d just get a little bit and be done with it. As it turned out, though, we got more than a little bit. It was cold and blowing, and it was so bad that my husband’s office was closed on Tuesday. So that just confirmed my decision not to see Youth Without Youth.

On Tuesday morning, I checked my email and found one from David, pointing out that Thursday’s Be Kind, Rewind screening had been dropped from our schedule. That had happened before—when they pushed the release date back. But I checked my schedule, and he was right. It wasn’t there. After checking with the rep, David confirmed that the screening had, in fact, been cancelled. Apparently, New Line had cancelled a whole bunch of their screenings around the country.

There are usually certain kinds of movies that don’t screen. Horror movies, in general, don’t screen—because it’s probably best to keep the critics away. Other generally crappy movies don’t tend to screen—movies like Strange Wilderness, which, again, it’s probably just best to keep away from the critics. Larry the Cable Guy movies, in general, don’t screen (but they do promote—more on that later). There are other movies that don’t screen, too. Snakes on a Plane didn’t screen for press—because the studio figured they had so much Internet buzz that they didn’t need the extra press (and we all know how that worked out for them). There are all kinds of reasons. But there’s no reason why Be Kind, Rewind wouldn’t screen. It’s one of those movies that could probably use the extra press—and, since it’s one we’d actually been looking forward to seeing (and we’d already heard great things about it from Neil, who saw it at Sundance), it was pretty likely to get some good press.

When Neil heard about the whole thing, he was not happy. From his seat at Panera (where he’d stopped to rest up after missing the Youth Without Youth screening, due to horrible roads), Neil (who was angry from having missed the screening and a bit cranky from not having eaten breakfast yet) wrote about it. The response was an interesting email from a vice-president of something at the theater, who claimed that they hadn’t cancelled screenings at all—and, to prove his point, he included a list of all the cities where they’d screened it (or were going to screen it). The funny thing, however, was that Columbus was on the list—which, obviously, isn’t completely accurate. Sure, we’d had a screening scheduled, but it had been taken away. And we’re all pretty bummed about it.

But, I guess, on the bright side, it meant that we all got to take Valentine’s night off.

And…speaking of Valentine’s Day…the DHL guy stopped by to deliver a package on Thursday. I’d been expecting a DVD, so I wasn’t surprised to see him. I was, however, surprised to see two packages waiting by the door for me. I ripped open the non-DVD one first, curious as to what it might be. Inside, there was a Valentine’s Day card. From Larry the Cable Guy. No, really. I got a Valentine’s Day card from Larry the Cable Guy to promote Witless Protection. And then I got a migraine.

As David once said, if you want to send stuff to film critics to promote your movie, send booze. Do not send pillows with Ben Stiller’s face on them—or Valentine’s Day cards from Larry the Cable Guy. They will be entirely lost on us. In fact, they’ll most likely make us angry. Happy Valentine’s Day. Blech.

Next week, we kick it into high gear again—with three morning screenings. So I’ll be spending the weekend polishing off my travel coffee mug.

…In Which I Miss Out on All the Fun

2008-02-08T15:01:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show

Every once in a while, things get exciting at screenings (as they did at December’s I Am Legend screening). But this week, I missed out on all the fun.

This week’s schedule started with a super-early screening of Will Ferrell’s new movie, Semi-Pro, on Monday night. Will was going to be in town this week for a comedy show, and a bunch of people were interviewing him, so we got to see the movie more than three weeks before its release.

I got out of knitting early on Monday night, so I had an extra hour to kill before I needed to leave for the theater. I could have gone home for a few minutes, but I decided just to head to the general vicinity of the theater instead and grab some dinner at the friendly neighborhood Wendy’s. It was a quiet night at Wendy’s, and it appeared to be ‘80s night on the Wendy’s Radio Network—so it was the perfect place to hang out for a while, get a little work done, do some reading, and kill some time (while singing along with such greats as George Michael and, I think, Wang Chung). Wheee! That, mixed with some food I probably shouldn’t eat (or at least that’s what John would tell me), had me in a pretty good mood by the time I got to the theater.

Since we were there for a super-early screening, we were in a tiny theater, which felt like one big family reunion. Though the theater was topped up with non-press, we took over much of the theater, which meant there was plenty of wandering around and chatting before the movie began. Colin brought a few left-over McLovin T-shirts (which, just for the record, I was thrilled about—and I’ll wear it with pride), and he filled John and me in on a college screening of Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins that he’d attended. He warned us that it was absolutely horrible—in fact, he couldn’t stop talking about how horrible it was. And that made me consider skipping the Tuesday night screening.

Not long before the screening was going to start, Neil arrived with his roommate, Richard (AKA Richard the Producer from Fat Guys at the Movies). We hadn’t seen Neil since Sundance, so he had plenty of stories. In fact, I don’t think I’d seen him at a single screening all year. So we had all kinds of catching up to do. Like I said…family reunion.

Since it was such an early screening and all, apparently they hadn’t worked out the glitches with the print—like the fact that we didn’t have any sound in the beginning. So Jason sang the opening jingles for us. He’s thoughtful like that.

It also seems as though we may have had the same cell-phone-obsessed security guy for this screening as the one we had last week. Usually, when a security guy is cell-phone-obsessed, it means that he harasses anyone who might have a cell phone on. And that’s a good thing. This guy, however, actually keeps his on. Last week, he was chatting on his phone during the screening. This week, I think his phone actually rang during the screening. Apparently, it’s okay for him to have his phone on during the screening—but not anybody else.

On Tuesday morning, we were all (well, some) back together again for a screening of Persepolis, which we’re still bitter that we didn’t see during awards season. Despite the fact that I still hate driving to the other side of town for morning screenings, it was kinda nice to be back. Not only that, but they’d baked fresh chocolate chip cookies for the occasion, and they were still warm and gooey. So there were no complaints from me this time around. Of course, it meant sitting down in seats that lost their padding sometime around 1982. But, well…there were fresh cookies—and that makes it okay.

After screenings on Monday night and Tuesday morning, I wasn’t exactly eager to go to another screening on Tuesday night—especially not for Roscoe Jenkins, which Colin had warned us about. Not only that, but we had another screening on Wednesday night—and I had a meeting scheduled for Thursday night. So I figured I’d take a night off. And, from what I’ve heard about the movie, I didn’t miss much there. I did, however, miss out on all the excitement.

During the usual barrage of emails on Wednesday afternoon, I found out that there had been an, um, altercation at the screening. So when I got to the Fool’s Gold screening on Wednesday night, I was eager to have Jason fill me in.

I had already heard that the screening was packed—because I’d given an extra pass to a guy from my husband’s office, and he didn’t end up getting in. So things were already a little tense. But that’s only the beginning. Jason and Bill had gotten there early and were saving seats for the rest of the gang. Jason had his coat on the press seat beside him to reserve it for someone. Suddenly, his coat was tossed on his lap, and some guy sat down in the seat he’d been saving.

“Excuse me…” Jason said to the man beside him. “You didn’t have to throw my coat on the floor.”

“I didn’t throw it on the floor,” the guy huffed. “I threw it on your lap.”

The two of them then got into a discussion about whether or not the other guy (who was not press) could sit down in a seat that was both (a) reserved for press and (b) being saved for someone. He was pretty sure that he could sit wherever the heck he wanted. There were words exchanged, after which the guy ended up mimicking Jason like a four-year-old.

Eventually, Molly, the rep, showed up to try to find more press seats—because they were running low—and told the guy that he was going to have to move. He told her that he could sit wherever he wanted, and she couldn’t tell him what to do. Molly explained to him that she could, in fact, do whatever she wanted to. And he could either find another seat or she could throw him out. In hearing about the exchange, I suddenly gained a whole new respect for Molly.

In the end, the obnoxious guy somehow managed to keep his seat—which seriously irritated everyone else. But the incident is sure to become Critic Folklore (along with the crazy I Am Legend screening and our screening of The Pursuit of Happyness, when we had to stop in the middle and wait an hour for the projectionist to finagle the print—clearly Will Smith movies are unlucky for us). It’s one of those stories that we’ll tell and retell for years to come. We’ll share it with young critics who someday join our merry band. We’ll tell the story so many times that the youngsters will start to wonder if the senile old folks just made it all up. It’ll go down in Critic History. And, sadly, I wasn’t even there to see it.

It did, however, make the screening of Fool’s Gold more entertaining. Because Jason’s story was the most entertaining part of the night. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who thought so—because I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people blatantly playing with their cell phones during a movie (except, perhaps, during Happily N’Ever After, the longest 75-minute movie ever made).

Now, after all those screenings, I’m trying to get caught up on my reviews—after which I’ll dive into some of the DVDs that have started piling up on the coffee table again. And then I’ll write more reviews. And then I’ll start all over again on Monday—when we’ve got a morning screening and an evening screening. There’s just no better way to start the week off at a ridiculously frantic pace than with two Monday screenings.

I’m going to have to make sure that I stock up on coffee over the weekend…

In other news, the official invitations for the Cleveland International Film Festival Columbus Preview went out this week. I couldn’t find the information on CIFF’s site, but, as I said before, it’s Monday, the 25th, from 5:30 to 7:30. There will be munchies and prizes and things—so mark your calendars now.

Oh, and by the way…Clay wants everyone to know that what I said about him and John and their harem in last week’s post is totally untrue—but I’m pretty sure he’s just worried that I might have scared prospective harem members away.

Clueless Moviegoers…and Other Job Hazards

2008-02-01T17:26:00.001-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Over Her Dead Body
Rambo

This week, we got to say good-bye to January movies and move on to February movies. But, as it turns out, just because a movie isn’t released in January doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to be better than a January movie.

Take, for instance, our Monday night screening.

I can’t say that any of us were actually looking forward to seeing Over Her Dead Body. I mean, I’m a girl, and even I was dreading it. Fortunately, though, we turned a negative into a positive by meeting up at BW3 before the screening to eat wings (I got some nice spicy wings, hoping they’d dull my senses so I wouldn’t feel the pain of the screening so much) and compare notes on Rambo. Jason, David, and I had all seen it together on Friday morning, and Bill had gone with his brother on Friday night—so we ended up spending most of our meal discussing exploding heads and dismemberment. So, of course, we were all in a pretty good mood by the time we had to head over to the theater.

The screening was scheduled to start at 7:30, so we made our way to the theater single-file, Swingers-style, by about 6:45. We got to sneak in just before they started letting in the rest of the crowd. We were all settled in (except for Kevin, who was meeting up with us later) at about 7, when the lights went down and something popped up on the screen. We all looked at each other in confusion, wondering if they were going to start the movie a whole half-hour early—and, in doing so, give us an extra half-hour of our lives back. Either that, or they were going to play a half-hour of ads before the movie started—which would suck, since that would mean we couldn’t even talk for that half-hour.

But after a few seconds, we realized that it was, in fact, the movie. No trailers or anything. We were thrilled.

Or at least we were thrilled for about five minutes—because that’s when everything froze. Then the screen went black, and the lights went up. The rep came in and called it a “test” and said that they’d start the movie again a little closer to 7:30—maybe in 10 minutes or so. So I ran out to the bathroom and came back in, figuring they’d be starting soon.

At about 7:35, the lights dimmed again, and the movie started again. Before we even made it through all of the studio credits, it stopped again. This time, the aspect ratio was off (though I’m not sure how that happened, since it was fine the first time they started the movie. So then we had to wait for another five minutes or so—meaning that the actual screening ended up starting 10 minutes late instead of 30 minutes early. What a cruel, cruel joke.

To make things worse, not only was it a ridiculous movie, but I was seated next to a couple who were convinced they were in their living room—and they proceeded to chat their way through the movie. Halfway through the movie, the guy pointed out “Hey…this is kinda funny.”

Really? I considered asking him if he and I were watching the same movie. Because the movie I was watching was actually kinda annoying.

My personal favorite moment, though, was when, at one point, Living Room Guy asked his wife, “Where’s she going?” as Lake Bell wandered off somewhere. Like his wife was psychic—and she actually knew what was going to happen in the movie before anyone else did. Or perhaps she wrote the movie (which would explain why he thought it was funny).

Then again, I actually could have told him where she was going—because it was just that predictable. But, once again, I kept my mouth shut.

Then, finally, when the movie ended, much to the rest of our great relief, Living Room Guy loudly announced, “That was a good movie!” Then he applauded.

People never cease to amaze me. There he was, sitting just two seats down from me, and he clearly saw a totally different movie than I did. Weird.

On a side note, though, the most amusing part of the evening (even more amusing than the people next to me) was when the security guard (whose job is to catch people who are using their cell phones and throw them out of the theater) got a phone call—and actually answered it while he was standing in the theater. Brilliant!

So anyway…we had another screening on Tuesday. It was a daytime screening—and since it was the first daytime screening of the year, I figured I’d go…just because.

The strange thing about the screening, though, was that it was scheduled for noon. Daytime screenings are typically at 11, and that extra hour totally threw me off. I was so confused. And then I had to try to eat something before I left, since I’d be starving by the end of the movie—but I wasn’t really hungry before the movie. It was all very strange. Obviously, I don’t handle change well.

Finally, on Wednesday night, there was a last-minute screening scheduled—one that hadn’t shown up on our grid until Monday afternoon. The screening was for The Spiderwick Chronicles, a movie that my young friend, Miss A, has been telling me about for ages, and she’ll be so very jealous when she hears that I’ve already seen it (and I’m pretty sure I’ll have to give a full account when I see her on Monday afternoon). I almost didn’t go—which wouldn’t have been a huge deal, since there are screenings scheduled for closer to the release date—but it’s always nice to get to a screening early and get the review over with. The problem was that I still hadn’t finished writing up the reviews for the other two screenings I’d attended earlier in the week. But I managed to finish them both in the afternoon, so I decided to go.

The screening was held in a tiny room, hidden in the back corner of the theater—so there weren’t many people there. As always, we were there early—early enough to sneak in before everyone else. Usually, that’s a good thing—because it means we get the seats we want. The downside of that, however, is that we don’t get to choose the people we sit near. This time, for instance, we ended up right behind some people who had brought a little boy (I’m guessing he was maybe two or three years old) who clearly had no interest in the movie. He was, however, interested in popcorn. Also, he seemed to be pretty interested in standing up on his mom’s lap and staring back at me. He also felt like chatting quite a bit. Fortunately, his mom eventually took him out of the theater—which was nice both for me and for the child, since I’m thinking the movie probably would have freaked him out a little bit. But, since it doesn’t come out for a couple of weeks, that’s all I can say about it. You’ll just have to wait for my review for the rest….

It looks like we’re going to have a busy couple of weeks now. Not only are there a few more movies coming out, but they’re actually movies that are screening for press (unlike Strange Wilderness and The Eye, which Kevin, ever the glutton for punishment, was going to see in a double-feature this morning). Next week, we’ve got screenings on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday (actually, Thursday and Saturday, too—but I’ve already seen that movie). The week after that is full, too.

Meanwhile, I’m already starting to gear up for this year’s Cleveland International Film Festival, which is just weeks away. The festival was one of the highlights of my year last year, and I can’t wait to go again (especially if it means partaking in another Martini Night). For those of you in the Columbus area, be sure to mark your calendars for Monday, February 25th. From 5:30 to 7:30, WCBE is sponsoring a CIFF preview party at the Arena Grand. John and Clay are hosting, and I’ll be hanging around for moral support. Not only is the film festival a great time, but so is the party—where you can grab some munchies while getting a preview of the festival. Last year, I was only there for a few minutes, but at least I got to chat with an It’s Movie Time listener for a while. This year, I plan to be mingling the whole time, so I hope to meet a few more people. If not, I’m thinking I’ll pretty much be on my own, since John and Clay tend to amass a harem of attractive (and attentive) young women wherever they go. And since I’ve known them long enough that I only occasionally humor them, it means that I usually end up sitting back and watching their antics in quiet amusement. So please…plan to join me and share in my amusement.

The Ups and Downs of Entertainment

2008-01-25T16:42:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Untraceable
Mad Money
27 Dresses

Wow…it’s been quite a week in the entertainment world, hasn’t it?

First, on Tuesday, I got to my desk to check the list of Oscar nominees. A few nominees were blatantly obvious; a few were surprises. I, for one, was shocked and disturbed by the nod given to Norbit. Now, I realize that it’s for makeup. And I’m sure that it took some makeup magic to get Eddie Murphy to cross both gender and racial lines. But do we really want to encourage people to do it again? I say no.

But then came the real shock of the week. On Tuesday, I was scrambling to finish up a few last reviews before heading out to a screening, and I listened to a CD on the way to the theater—so when I got there, I had no idea what had happened. It wasn’t until we were all settled in that Kevin said, “So everyone heard about Heath Ledger already, right?”

“No,” I said, figuring it was some new role he’d signed on to play. “What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

It all just came out of nowhere, and it knocked the wind out of me for a second. Really, I thought Kevin was messing with me—because that’s what Kevin does. But he wasn’t messing with me at all.

Before the movie started, we just sat there, talking about how tragic it was, how it made no sense. At that point, speculation was still leaning toward suicide, and no one could really understand why. Why Heath Ledger? Some might say he was at the top of his game, but I wouldn’t say that—because the top of his game was still to come.

It still surprises me that Heath’s death hit me as hard as it did. It kept me awake that night. It distracted me the next day. And I’m still struggling with it today. And it’s strange—because celebrities come and go in the blink of an eye. But there was something about Heath. Ever since the first time I saw 10 Things I Hate About You, I was a fan (though, just for the record, my husband laughed at me when I told him that I thought Heath would be a nice name if we were to have a son one day). I’ve loved his work—and it was clear he was extraordinarily gifted. He was different. And, well, he was one of those bright spots in my job as a critic. He was one of those actors whom I always looked forward to watching. I looked forward to seeing what he’d do next. But, on top of all that, Heath actually seemed like a genuinely good guy. He never seemed to be obsessed with his own fame. He never seemed to be caught up in the life of a celebrity. He didn’t try to be a star. He just did what he loved—and he was good at it. And, outside that, he just seemed like an ordinary guy. He wasn’t the guy you’d expect to overdose in some dark alley—or to get drunk and run his expensive sports car into a tree. He was the guy you expected to do his job and then return to his own personal hideaway to dote on his kids. He was the guy you expected to take on those classic, memorable roles, to win Oscars, to grow old gracefully, to live a good, long life. And when someone like that leaves us so early, it’s tragic. Heartbreaking.

Really, it’s hard to just move on and blather on about the crap I saw this week under the circumstances. After I heard about Heath’s death, I had to sit through Untraceable, which was so stupid that it made me angry.

Today, though…today I was looking forward to getting out. And after such a heavy week, I needed something like Rambo.

Since Rambo didn’t screen for press, we actually had to wait for the day of release like everyone else. We had to actually pay to get in. But we just couldn’t resist. So David, Jason, and I met up for the 11:15 screening.

As I stepped forward to buy my ticket, I announced, “One for Rambo.”

The woman behind the glass looked a little surprised. “I would have taken you for more of the 27 Dresses type,” she said. That made me laugh—especially since I didn’t exactly love 27 Dresses, and I was actually looking forward to seeing Rambo.

We totally expected the theater to be empty. Really—and 11 a.m. screening of Rambo? But there were actually quite a few people there—and I think there were even two other women. And to add to the fun, we even got to watch a trailer for Midnight Meat Train. It just doesn’t get much better than that.

As for the movie, what can I say? It was one crazy experience. There were flying severed limbs and exploding heads. The dialogue—what dialogue there was—rarely made any sense. But it was so much fun. And, well, it was funny. At one point, I laughed so hard that tears came streaming down my face—and Jason was worried that I was going to choke to death. It’s just that over-the-top. It’s blessedly craptacular. And it was the perfect way to spend a Friday morning.

Norbit Sweeps Four Categories, Eddie Murphy Wins Worst Actor and Actress, and Dane Cook Named Most Overexposed and Cinematic Tragedy of 2007

2008-01-22T12:03:00.000-05:00

(Beverly Hills, January 22, 2008) Although it was released almost a year ago, voters in the United Critics Organization (UCO) did not forget Norbit, which was named the worst film of 2007 in the GAG Awards. Sponsored by 7M Pictures and Film School Rejects, these annual award recognized cinematic catastrophes and just plain awful films.

Norbit swept the top four categories, also winning Worst Director for Brian Robbins. Eddie Murphy made GAG Awards history for being the first person to not only be nominated as Worst Actor and Worst Actress, but also to win both awards.

Men in fat suits and dresses were a popular choice for voters this year as John Travolta won Worst Supporting Actor for his role in the otherwise delightful Hairspray. On the Supporting Actress front, director Rob Zombie’s main squeeze Sheri Moon Zombie won the honors for her role in Halloween.

The Worst Screenplay category had a photo finish between Todd Komarnicki’s script for the thriller Perfect Stranger and Bill Kelly’s time-bending story for Premonition. After a tie-breaking analysis, Perfect Stranger came out slightly ahead.

Another nail-biter finale was between Things We Lost in the Fire and Lions for Lambs as Worst Oscar Bait (a new category this year). The Halle Berry drama edged out Robert Redford’s war-time snoozer by a slim margin.

While comedian-turned-actor Dane Cook narrowly escaped Worst Actor and Worst Supporting Actor awards, he was named the Most Overexposed Celebrity (the special Godiva Award) as well as the Cinematic Tragedy of the Year.

“This year, Mr. Cook was nominated for four awards, and he is only an actor right now,” said Kevin Carr, lead film critic for 7M Pictures and president of the UCO. “Imagine how daunting he will be in the GAG Awards if he decides to direct.”

Other movies honored for the lowest form of filmmaking include Shrek the Third for Worst Animated Film and Worst Blockbuster, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer for Worst Special Effects and Worst Sequel, and Michael Moore’s SiCKO for Worst Documentary.

“Anyone can make a bad movie,” said Carr. “However, it takes a special talent to make a film so bad that it leaves a lasting impression for months to come. All of the nominees should be honored for this recognition.”

In addition to Dane Cook’s honor as the Cinematic Tragedy of 2007, other nominees include Seth Rogan having sex with Katherine Heigl and Philip Seymour Hoffman’s bare ass in the opening scene of Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead.

A complete list of awards follows, including the winners and other nominees:

WORST PICTURE
Norbit – WINNER!
Because I Said So
Good Luck Chuck
Balls of Fury
Halloween
Codename: The Cleaner

WORST DIRECTOR
Brian Robbins, Norbit – WINNER!
Mark Helfrich, Good Luck Chuck
Rob Zombie, Halloween
Michael Lehmann, Because I Said So
Les Mayfield, Codename: The Cleaner

WORST ACTOR
Eddie Murphy, Norbit – WINNER!Jamie Kennedy, Kickin’ It Old Skool
Nicolas Cage, Ghost Rider
Dane Cook, Good Luck Chuck
Nicolas Cage, Next

WORST ACTRESS
Eddie Murphy, Norbit – WINNER!
Diane Keaton, Because I Said So
Halle Berry, Perfect Stranger
Jodie Foster, The Brave One
Cate Blanchett, Elizabeth: The Golden Age

WORST SUPPORTING ACTOR
John Travolta, Hairspray – WINNER!
Robin Williams, August Rush
George Lopez, Balls of Fury
Dane Cook, Mr. Brooks
Dan Fogler, Good Luck Chuck

WORST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Sheri Moon Zombie, Halloween – WINNER!
Nicolette Sheridan, Codename: The Cleaner
Jessica Alba, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer
Malin Akerman, The Brothers Solomon
Mandy Moore, Because I Said So

WORST SCREENPLAY
Todd Komarnicki, Perfect Stranger – WINNER!
Bill Kelly, Premonition
Rob Zombie, Halloween
Josh Stolberg, Good Luck Chuck
Scott Wiper and Rob Hedden, The Condemned

WORST DOCUMENTARY
SiCKO – WINNER!
The 11th Hour
No End in Sight

WORST ANIMATED FILM
Shrek the Third – WINNER!
Happily N’Ever After
Bee Movie
Meet the Robinsons
Beowulf

WORST SPECIAL EFFECTS
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer – WINNER!
I Am Legend
Spider-Man 3
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End
D-War: Dragon Wars

WORST SEQUEL
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer – WINNER!
Shrek the Third
Resident Evil: Extinction
Spider-Man 3
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

WORST BLOCKBUSTER
Shrek the Third – WINNER!
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer
National Treasure: Book of Secrets
Wild Hogs
Spider-Man 3

MOST OVEREXPOSED CELEBRITY
Dane Cook – WINNER!
Lindsay Lohan
Jessica Biel
Terrence Howard
Nicole Kidman

CINEMATIC TRAGEDY OF 2007
Dane Cook’s continued existence – WINNER!
Seth Rogan having sex with Katherine Heigl
Phillip Seymour Hoffman's bare ass in the opening scene of Before the Devil Knows You're Dead
Men in fat suits
The backyard scene in Transformers – My bad!
Peter Parker goes emo

About the GAG Awards
The annual GAG Awards are nominated and voted on by the United Critics Organization (UCO), which comprises professional journalists and film critics. “GAG” stands for “God Awful Guild,” which honors a new guild, or group, of films and filmmakers for outstanding cinematic disasters each year.

Visit 7mpictures.com or FilmSchoolRejects.com for more information.

January Throws a Curveball

2008-01-18T12:18:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Cloverfield

It was another slow January week in Critic Land. There were three screenings scheduled for this week—one was Mad Money, which I’d already seen (yech!), one was cancelled due to bad weather, and the other was Cloverfield.

For months, Cloverfield has been one of those movies that frequently popped up in pre-screening conversations (along with the most anticipated movie of the year, Midnight Meat Train). Ever since that brilliant teaser showed up before Transformers last summer, there’s been a steady stream of Cloverfield buzz. But the closer we got to the release date, the more skeptical we were.

First of all, we’re talking about a January release here. It’s just one of those unspoken rules that you don’t release anything of value in January (thus…Mad Money and First Sunday). As I’ve mentioned before, January is not a good month to be a film critic. Just to emphasize my point, at the beginning of this week, my average January grade was somewhere between a D and a D+.

Secondly, Cloverfield was filmed using hand-held cameras. Now, I realize that the quality of hand-held cameras has gone way up since I was a kid. That’s great and all. But until someone figures out how to use hand-held cameras in a way that doesn’t make me sick, I’m going to be a little skeptical here. I still haven’t gotten over the nausea I suffered while watching The Blair Witch Project—and just hearing the name “Paul Greengrass” makes my head start spinning.

Then there were the rumors. Some suggested that the whole thing was just some kind of a cheap ploy—that it would somehow tie into Lost (since the screenwriter, Drew Goddard, is also one of the writers of Lost). There were all kinds of ideas floating around—and none of them made me all that eager to see the movie. Mostly, I was just curious.

Since the screening was going to be on campus, the usual gang of misfits decided to meet for happy hour on Wednesday before the screening. It was a tough call, really: would drinking before a shaky movie make it better or worse? As it turned out, I was too drugged on Wednesday to drink anyway. I wasn’t quite sure of the dangers of mixing booze and DayQuil, so I chose to refrain.

Despite the fact that I already made it through my post-holiday illness, I somehow managed to pick up another one. I’m going to blame it on Neil, who was sick for about three weeks (which means that he missed seeing things like, oh, Mad Money). But we went to a hockey game over the weekend (Go Jackets!), and I think I might have caught his SARS in the midst of all the screaming and cheering and the plotting for total world domination. Fortunately, though, the SARS was kind to me, and it didn’t come out in full force until Monday night. That gave me Monday morning to head into the studio and record this year’s It’s Movie Time awards season special (which airs a week from today).

But anyway…back to Wednesday…. After dinner, we all headed over to the theater. They had already started letting the public in, but, fortunately, Matt was the rep of the evening, and Matt knew to save a whole bunch of seats for press. And that’s why we love Matt.

But enough about Matt. Let’s talk Cloverfield.

Now, I’m not going to lie to you. Cloverfield is a shaky movie. Even if you have a strong stomach, you will most likely feel dizzy—and perhaps a little bit sick. I, however, didn’t. Perhaps it has something to do with the mix of DayQuil and Pepsi that I consumed before the movie, but I’m thinking it was mostly because I was prepared. I knew it was coming. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew there was a chance I’d end up throwing up in my brand new COCFA Mafia stocking cap. So I planned ahead.

The beginning of Cloverfield is just about the characters. It tells their story and follows them around while they hang out together and throw a surprise going-away party for Rob (Michael Stahl-David), who’s moving to Japan. The whole thing is shot like a home movie—shakes and all. But there isn’t really anything critical going on here—not much that you really need to see. So that’s when I closed my eyes. I watched every once in a while—so I could see who the characters were and what was going on—but I knew that I didn’t necessarily have to watch the guy with the camera wander around the apartment and film people’s limbs. I could hear what was going on, so I knew when to pay attention. If there was a conversation, I’d watch. But for the other stuff, I just closed my eyes. Had I not done that, I’m pretty sure I would have been sick before the really cool stuff started. Instead, I was free to watch those shaky monster shots—and I felt fine.

And, as it turns out, I was highly impressed by Cloverfield. Yeah, it’s shaky—and that’s definitely something I could do without. I’d much prefer to be able to watch the entire movie and know that I’m not going to get sick. But the idea is so good that I’ll let it go. It’s so creative and so clever that I couldn’t help but like it. In fact, the more I thought about it the next day, the more impressed I was. Cloverfield is, without a doubt, the best movie of the year so far. Gimmicky, yes. But still pretty cool.

Go figure—a January movie that’s actually pretty good. Huh.

Next week is another slow week. Looks like I’ll have another one-screening week—followed by our group outing on Friday morning to see Rambo, since it’s not going to be screened for press (Hmmm…a January release, and they’re not showing it to press? Can’t be a good sign.). Until things pick up a bit next month, I’ll be camped out on the couch, catching up on DVDs. Maybe I’ll even watch a few more of those screeners that I didn’t get to see in December….

January Continues: Nominations and Awards and Parties and Bad Movies

2008-01-11T12:12:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
First Sunday
The Kite Runner

Last night was the annual COFCA awards dinner, which unofficially marks the end of the awards insanity for another 10 months or so. If you want to check out the results, I posted the press release below.

I tend to forget that my busy season doesn’t really end with the last screening before the holidays. Over the holidays, I try to catch up on screeners and start making my lists. That continues right up until COFCA nominations are due (this year, I got mine in a whole 25 hours early, sending them in at 11 p.m. last Friday). Then comes voting (which ended on Wednesday night), followed by the awards party.

It wasn’t over then, either. I’d been so busy agonizing over my picks for the best of everything that I procrastinated on my picks for the worst of everything. But GAG award nominations are due today—so I sat down this morning and flipped through my lists until my nomination ballot was filled in. I got my GAG nominations sent in a whole eight hours before the deadline. Voting for that starts next week—so I guess I’m not completely out of the awards season fog yet, after all.

I have, however, made my picks. It was another tough one this year—even tougher than last year. As I trudged through the lists, checking and rechecking my notes from the year, my despair led me to create these T-shirts—because, after a while, I felt like I was just a cranky critic, unsatisfied with everything. If you share my despair, order a shirt. If you’d like to check out my thoughts on the movies of 2007, check out this year’s movie recap: “Movies 2007: Did I Miss Something?”

Meanwhile, the January Blahs continue—and I’ve already begun creating a list of possible nominations for next year’s GAG awards.

On Tuesday, we gathered at the usual theater for a screening of 27 Dresses. Though it was supposed to be released this weekend, it was postponed a week, for some strange reason, putting it up against Mad Money and Cloverfield next weekend. But since I’m a week ahead of the release date, I can’t really say too much about the movie. The whole screening experience in general was pretty subdued, too—other than the post-screening re-hashing of our award nominations. At this time of year, critics tend to get a little feisty, taking sides and making bold statements. On Tuesday night, Bill remained solo in his I Hate Juno Club. Jason gave another “Why I Totally Hated Into the Wild” speech (which are always highly entertaining). And Bill and I are both proud members of the The Orphanage Scared the Crap Out of Me Club.

The real excitement of the week, however, came on Wednesday, when we headed to The Theater With the Balcony for a screening of First Sunday. It takes a very strong critic to tackle both an Ice Cube/Tracy Morgan movie and the Balcony Brigade—and only a few of us were up for the challenge.

As it turned out, getting there was part of the challenge. That night, the Dancing with the Stars tour was in town, and the worst drivers in the state were out in full force, making left turns from the right lane, making right turns from the left lane, and generally having no clue where they were going. But, fortunately, I did eventually make it. When I got there, the crowd was already lined up around the corner, and Bill and Kevin were waiting inside. We headed straight for the balcony, where a security guard did a very good job of trying to keep us out—until he found out that it really was okay. I was pretty proud of the security guard, though—sticking to his guns and all. Perhaps that would mean that he’d also throw people out for playing with their cell phones and blinding people during the movie.

Once we made it to the balcony, we chose the front row—where we figured that at least we wouldn’t have to deal with loud, obnoxious Balcony Brigade members in front of us. Shortly thereafter, the crowd started filling in. As usual, it was a crazy crowd—so crazy that we had to yell at each other in order to have a conversation. And when the giveaways began, it got even worse. Once again, Team Balcony backed one another up—and the demands for equal treatment/prizing eventually turned into personal attacks on the poor guy who was half-heartedly acting as host. There was much yelling. If there’s one thing that can be said for the Balcony Brigade, it’s that they’re loud. So loud, in fact, that nobody paid any attention to the poor security guy’s warnings. So loud that when the first trailer started—and it was totally blurry—the whole place erupted in shouts and boos. Really. It was crazy.

What’s crazier, though, is that the movie was even more obnoxious than the crowd. After listening to the crowd bickering for 45 minutes before the movie started, the last thing I wanted was an hour and a half of characters bickering on-screen. But that’s what I got.

As we walked out of the theater, Kevin just turned to us and said, “Well, welcome to January.”

Next week marks the release of the highly-anticipated, over-hyped geek-fest, Cloverfield. The closer it gets, the more concerned I get. But we’ll all be there to see it—and we’ll most likely be there early for a few preparatory happy hour drinks. Of course, the whole hand-held-camera thing mixed with alcohol probably isn’t the best idea, but I’m willing to give it a shot. I’ll have to remember to bring my barf bag.

No Country for Old Men finds home atop 6th annual Central Ohio Film Critics Association awards

2008-01-11T11:04:00.000-05:00

(Columbus, January 10, 2008) Joel and Ethan Coen's No Country for Old Men was named Best Film in the Central Ohio Film Critics Association 6th annual awards, recognizing excellence in the film industry for 2007. The film also won four other awards, including Best Director and Best Screenplay-Adapted (Joel and Ethan Coen), Best Supporting Actor (Javier Bardem), and Best Ensemble. Juno, which finished third on the Best Film list, was awarded two prizes, Best Actress (Ellen Page) and Best Screenplay-Original (Diablo Cody).

Two past COFCA award winners were acknowledged again. Daniel Day-Lewis was named Best Actor for his portrayal of a turn-of-the-century oilman in There Will Be Blood. Cate Blanchett was selected the Best Supporting Actress for her performance as the mid-1960s Bob Dylan in I'm Not There. Day-Lewis won COFCA's inaugural Best Actor prize for 2002's Gangs of New York while Blanchett was named 2004's Actor of the Year.

Other individual winners include: Actor of the Year Philip Seymour Hoffman for his exemplary work in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Charlie Wilson's War, and The Savages; Breakthrough Film Artist Sarah Polley for Away from Her's direction and screenwriting; Óscar Faura for Best Cinematography for The Orphanage (El Orfanato); and Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová of Once for Best Score.

Other honored films include: The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters for Best Documentary; The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen) for Best Foreign Language Film; Ratatouille for Best Animated Film; and Air Guitar Nation for Best Overlooked Film.

Founded in 2002, the Central Ohio Film Critics Association is comprised of film critics based in Columbus, Ohio and the surrounding areas. Its membership consists of more than 25 print, radio, television, and new media critics. COFCA's official website at www.cofca.org contains links to member reviews and past award winners.

Winners were announced at a private party on January 10.

Complete list of awards:

Best Films
1. No Country for Old Men
2. The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen)
3. Juno
4. Once
5. There Will Be Blood
6. Lars and the Real Girl
7. 3:10 to Yuma
8. The Savages
9. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
10. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Le Scaphandre et le papillon)

Best Director
-Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
-Runner-up: Paul Thomas Anderson, There Will Be Blood

Best Actor
-Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
-Runner-up: Ryan Gosling, Lars and the Real Girl

Best Actress
-Ellen Page, Juno
-Runner-up: Amy Adams, Enchanted

Best Supporting Actor
-Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
-Runner-up: Ben Foster, 3:10 to Yuma

Best Supporting Actress
-Cate Blanchett, I'm Not There
-Runner-up: Emily Mortimer, Lars and the Real Girl

Best Ensemble
-No Country for Old Men
-Runner-up: 3:10 to Yuma

Actor of the Year (for an exemplary body of work)
-Philip Seymour Hoffman, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Charlie Wilson's War, and The
Savages
-Runner-up: Josh Brolin, American Gangster, Grindhouse, In the Valley of Elah, and No Country for
Old Men

Breakthrough Film Artist
-Sarah Polley, Away from Her (for directing and screenwriting)
-Runner-up: Ellen Page, Juno (for acting)

Best Cinematography
-Óscar Faura, The Orphanage (El Orfanato)
-Runner-up: Roger Deakins, No Country for Old Men

Best Screenplay – Adapted
-Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
-Runner-up: Paul Thomas Anderson, There Will Be Blood

Best Screenplay – Original
-Diablo Cody, Juno
-Runner-up: Tamara Jenkins, The Savages

Best Score
-Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, Once
-Runner-up: Dario Marianelli, Atonement

Best Documentary
-The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
-Runners-up (tie): In the Shadow of the Moon and No End in Sight

Best Foreign Language Film
-The Lives of Others (Das Leben der Anderen)
-Runner-up: The Orphanage (El Orfanato)

Best Animated Film
-Rataouille
-Runner-up: Paprika

Best Overlooked Film
-Air Guitar Nation
-Runner-up: The Lookout

COFCA offers its congratulations to the winners.

Past Best Film winners:

2002: Punch-Drunk Love
2003: Lost in Translation
2004: Million Dollar Baby
2005: A History of Violence
2006: Children of Men

For more information about the Central Ohio Film Critics Association, please visit www.cofca.org or e-mail info@cofca.org.

The complete list of members and their affiliations:

Kevin Carr (www.columbuScene.com, www.7mpictures.com) ; Nick Chordas (The Columbus Dispatch), Bill Clark (www.fromthebalcony.com); Nikki Davis (Columbus Alive); John DeSando (90.5 WCBE); Johnny DiLoretto (Fox 28 WTTE); Chad Dull (The Other Paper); Frank Gabrenya (The Columbus Dispatch); Jordan Gentile (The Other Paper); Kaizaad Kotwal (C Magazine, Gay Peoples Chronicle); Kristin Dreyer Kramer (NightsAndWeekends.com); Joyce Long (820 WOSU); Rico Long (820 WOSU); Clay Lowe (90.5 WCBE); Colin Mack (freelance); Hope Madden (The Other Paper); Paul Markoff (WOCC-TV3); David Medsker (Bullz-Eye.com); Neil Miller (Film School Rejects); J. Caleb Mozzocco (Donewaiting.com); Lori Pearson (Kids-in-Mind.com, critics.com); Mark Pfeiffer (Reel Times: Reflections on Cinema; WOCC-TV3); Margaret Quamme (The Columbus Dispatch); Dave Redelberger (WBWR-The Brew @ 105.7); John Ross (Columbus Alive); Melissa Starker (Columbus Alive); Jason Zingale (Bullz-Eye.com).

Let the January Blahs Begin!

2008-01-04T15:32:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
There Will Be Blood
The Water Horse
The Orphanage (El Orfanato)
The Great Debaters
National Treasure: Book of Secrets
Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
Charlie Wilson’s War

It’s a crazy day here at the office. I’m trying to put together my 2007 year in review—along with my COFCA nominations and my GAG Award ballot—but I had to take a few minutes out to wish you all a happy 2008.

After the annual Holiday Road Trip, which took us from Ohio to Toronto to West Michigan and back again, I returned home to a few Miramax screeners (hoorah!) and page after page of notes that needed to be turned into reviews. Then, on New Year’s morning, I awoke not with a hangover but with the flu instead. No surprise, really, since I always get sick after the holidays—but the flu was a bit of a change from the usual debilitating cold. Fortunately, though, it only lasted a couple of days—which meant that I was feeling a whole lot better by Thursday…just in time for the first screening of the year.

Last year, during my post-holiday illness, I missed stuff like Children of Men and Freedom Writers (as well as Code Name: The Cleaner, which sucked, since it meant that I missed out on a whole year of bad-movie jokes). This year, however, the first screening of the year was last night’s early screening of Mad Money. Since I hadn’t left the house in a few days—and since it was cold and snowy out—I almost skipped it. But everyone else was going, and I hadn’t seen the rest of the gang in a couple of weeks, so I figured it would do me some good to get out and see everybody again. And I was right. Jason and David and Kevin and John were there, and I was thrilled to see them all again. We were all eager to say our Happy New Year!s and share our holiday stories. And after I got home, I felt so much better that I actually sat down and ate, making up for the three days of soup and saltines. And today I was actually (somewhat) prepared to get up at my normal time and get to work. And to think that I have Diane Keaton, Queen Latifah, and Katie Holmes to thank for it.

Since Mad Money doesn’t come out for a couple of weeks, I’m not supposed to say anything about it yet. So I won’t. I will, however, say that Kevin almost got in his first fight of the year with someone who may or may not have been kicking his seat through the movie. And there was also a guy a few seats down from David who laughed so loudly (and in such a horrifying manner) that we were rather worried that he’d have a stroke.

But enough about that—let’s talk about January. Now, I believe I’ve mentioned before that August is pretty much the armpit of the movie year. It’s the time when studios toss out their trash—their bad slacker comedies, as well as a few not-quite-blockbuster-worthy films. Why? I’m not exactly sure. Perhaps it’s because it’s just too hot and oppressive outside to go to a theater to watch a serious drama. Perhaps it’s supposed to be a palate-cleansing month between blockbuster season and early awards season. Perhaps people are too busy thinking about going back to school to think much about movies. Whatever.

But if August is the armpit of the movie year, January is—um…what’s worse than the armpit?—let’s say that January is the butt-crack of the movie year. Apparently, studios figure that they’ve given all they can in December—with all their holiday films and big-name award contenders and things—that they’ve got nothing left to give. So they give moviegoers things like Code Name: The Cleaner and a whole bunch of movies that they don’t even dare to screen for the press. Perhaps they just figure that people are too burned out from the holidays to care.

As for us critics, January is a mixed blessing. Sure, after the award season push, we critics do appreciate the down-time that January brings—but the fact that it comes filled with bad comedies and other crap that couldn’t cut it any other time of the year (not even in August!) is pretty disheartening. It does, however, give us a whole month to brush up on our scathing-review-writing techniques, as well as providing us with a whole year’s worth of bad movie jokes. January movies are, for the most part, really bad—so when we hear that a movie has a January release date, we’re instantly skeptical. Incidentally, that’s why we’re just a little bit worried about the new J.J. Abrams-produced top-secret monster movie, Cloverfield. Sure, it looked good when we saw the teaser trailer before Transformers—but if it’s any good, why are they releasing it in January? (Stay tuned for the answer to that one.)

For the time being, though, we’ll settle into our January rituals, drinking just a little bit more and preparing for the worst, all the while looking forward to the warmer temperatures—and better movies—of summer.

Ho Ho HOLD ON A MINUTE!

2007-12-21T12:15:00.001-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Margot at the Wedding

Today, I’m in the middle of that last-minute, one-more-thing-before-I-have-to-go rush before heading out on the annual Holiday Road Trip. It’s been one crazy week—and from the crazy crowds at screenings this week, I can tell that I’m not the only one who’s jittery and a little bit irritable.

The whole week has been a bit of a blur. In fact, when I got to my desk most mornings this week, I couldn’t even remember what I’d seen the night before. And, often, when I sat down for another screening, I had no idea which movie I was there to see. But all of that is over now. I’ve attended my last screening for the year, and I’m looking forward to that January lull.

It’s time for me to hit the road now, but I wanted to take a minute to wish you all a happy holiday and an entertaining New Year. I’ll be taking next Friday off, but I’ll be back on the 4th to start complaining about a whole new year of screenings.

Welcome to the Circus

2007-12-15T13:52:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
I Am Legend
Atonement
Juno

HOOOO, BOY! Do I have stories to tell today! Refill your coffee and settle in—because this one’s a long one.

Monday morning, I skipped a screening. First of all, it was Monday morning. Second of all, it was a documentary about skiing. And third, it’s December. I don’t have time to watch skiing documentaries on a Monday morning. So I skipped. That meant that my first screening of the week was Tuesday night.

Tuesday night’s screening was I Am Legend. This was one of those movies that everyone’s been looking forward to for months. Not only was everyone looking forward to it, but this particular screening was the only pre-release screening. It was the only chance the press would have to see it. So pretty much everyone was coming. And, apparently, so was everyone in town.

Typically, I leave home an hour before an evening screening—sometimes more. Usually, that gives me enough time to drive to the theater, get a parking spot, make my way into the theater, and get a seat before the theater people start letting in the general public. Yeah, it’s early, but it guarantees that I’ll get a decent seat—and it means that I have some time to catch up with my esteemed colleagues before the movie starts.

This Tuesday, I was a little worried that I might be late. My husband was planning on joining me, but he had a meeting until at least 5:30. So I made sure the rest of the gang knew we’d be there—though maybe a few minutes later than usual. Fortunately, though, the meeting didn’t go too long, and we were able to make it to the theater at a decent time. We arrived at around 6:20 for the 7:00 screening—and by the time we got to the theater, there was already a line down the hall and through the lobby.

So here’s the thing about screenings: there are always more passes than seats. The studio wants to make sure the theater’s full for the screening, so they give out a ton of passes. It even says so in the small print on the passes. Most of the time, it’s not a problem—but that does mean that, from time to time, the reps have to turn people away. I Am Legend was one of those times.

There are times when it’s good to be press—and this was one of them. It meant that we got to walk past all the people who were still waiting in line in the lobby. I went up to the guy at the door and told him I was press, and he let us in. As we walked down the crowded hallway, I saw the rest of the gang standing at the door, waiting to get in. Jason waved and motioned for us to hurry, so I trotted down the hall to catch up. As I did, I was met with all kinds of shouts from the peanut gallery.

“HEY! The back of the line’s BACK HERE!” they called out.

Actually, it was a good thing I was running—because otherwise, I probably would have gotten myself beaten.

So at that point, I knew we were in for an interesting evening. After all, people are never happy when they get turned away from a screening—even (or perhaps especially) if it’s a free screening. People get angry. I’ve heard that one of the reps once got her car keyed by angry people who were turned away. It’s stupid, but it’s true. So we got ourselves settled in, saved seats for Kevin and Neil, and braced ourselves for what was to come.

To be honest, I don’t even know how to begin to explain the insanity that was Tuesday night. First of all, let’s just say that the theater was packed. Usually, there’s someone at the door, counting people to make sure they know when to stop letting people in. Apparently the count was a bit off—because too many people were allowed in the theater. This meant that many of them ended up standing in the aisles—or on the stairs—looking for that one open seat. That meant, of course, that they were eyeing our saved press seats like a vulture eyes a dying bunny rabbit. Fortunately, Kevin and Chris made it into the theater in time to get some seats, and Neil showed up and took his seat, too. He said that they almost didn’t let him in, and he had to pull a “Don’t you know who I am?” to fight his way in.

After Neil showed up, it turned out that we had two extra seats. There just happened to be two sad-looking young guys standing right by us, so we decided to give them the seats. They were so happy and so grateful. But the second they sat down, the rep swooped in and asked who they were with. The two guys looked so befuddled. But apparently there’s weren’t enough press seats saved. (We later heard that they’d only held 15 press seats—for the only screening of one of the biggest releases of the month.) So the poor guys had to give up their seats again.

Fortunately, those two guys handled it really well. Yeah, it sucked. And I felt really bad for them. But they didn’t throw a fit. That was still to come.

So seats in the theater were so in demand that people would do anything to get them. At one point, one empty seat turned up in the middle of the upper section of the theater, sending two grown men racing to get it. They raced through the aisles, up the stairs, and over all the people in the row. Seriously, it was a circus. For those of us who already had seats, it was sad—but highly entertaining nonetheless.

But one of the guys ended up with the seat and the other one ended up having to leave. As he was walking out, some woman got up and announced that there was another empty seat available. As the rep tried to explain that it was being held for someone, the woman stopped halfway down the stairs and yelled out, announcing to everyone, “No! That seat is open because I’m leaving. My son got thrown out, so I have to go—even though I waited in line for an hour to get seats.” In a way, I felt bad for the crabby old lady. Yes, it sucks to wait in line for an hour. And yes, it totally sucks that her son was the guy who didn’t race to the extra seat quickly enough. But I have no pity for someone who throws a fit like that. She laid into poor Brook, who was working the theater that night—even though it wasn’t Brook’s fault. At that point, I just wanted to give the poor girl a hug—because she looked like she was ready to cry. Or have a nervous breakdown. Perhaps both. And I couldn’t blame her.

So after all that, there was still another problem: two members of the press decided that they could show up at exactly 7:00 and demand to get seats. Now, I realize that we’re one of the big reasons why they have these screenings. We’re there to review the movies and give them more press coverage. And that’s why they let us in before everyone else—and it’s why they save us seats, just in case we can’t get there an hour early. But there’s definitely a reason why most of us get there ridiculously early. We know that people with free passes don’t take kindly to those “Reserved for Press” seats—so they rip the signs off and take the seats anyway. We know that sometimes the reps forget to save seats for us. We know that sometimes the theaters fill up. And it’s just easier to get there early, get out of everyone’s way, and hang out for a while. And if we’re going to be late, we make sure that someone knows we’re coming—so we’re sure to have a seat waiting for us when we get there.

Of course, as I said before, this isn’t usually a problem—which is a good thing, since there are a few press members who are infamous for always showing up at the last minute. But screenings aren’t usually this popular. In fact, I’ve never seen people waiting in the lobby like that, just hoping to make it to that line in the hallway. But we knew it was going to be crazy. It’s I Am Legend. There’s one screening. It’s Will Smith. Of course everyone’s going to show up. So, for one thing, the reps should have saved more than 15 press seats. But, at the same time, our colleagues should have known better. If you’re going to be late, at least let someone know that you’re coming. As David pointed out, those reserved press seats are a privilege—not a right. And if the theater’s that packed, and it’s ten minutes before the screening, the reps have every right to give those seats up to some guy who actually showed up an hour early because he wanted so desperately to see the movie.

So here’s what happened: because of these two press members, two more people were thrown out—after they’d been so relieved and overjoyed to actually get seats. The first was (understandably) quite upset, and the press member who was taking his seat threw an attitude and said, “Yeah, like you’d lose your job if you didn’t see this movie.” Okay, now if it’s that important that you see this movie, don’t you think you could show up on time?

Meanwhile, the second press member was getting a seat, too—which meant that the poor guy who had raced through the theater to get a seat got ejected from the theater.

So all of us who had been there on time (or who had let other people know that they’d be a little late, since they had to work until 6) watched the whole thing in horror. You see, people already resent us. They harass us in the hallways for walking right into the theater when they’ve been waiting in line for a half hour. They get pissed off when they don’t have their choice of every seat in the theater because a couple of them are reserved for press. But at least most of us get in there, sit down, and shut up. We don’t harass them or taunt them. We don’t let them sit down, only to take away their seat and tell them that they’ll have to leave. And those who do just make the rest of us look bad.

So anyway…once everyone was settled in—and the rest of us were all buzzing about what had just happened, I looked at Bill, who was seated next to me, and announced, “This is the most entertaining screening I’ve been to all year—and the movie hasn’t even started yet!”

Eventually—to our great relief, that was the end of the pre-screening show. And the movie did eventually start—though a little later than planned. Once again, though, we ended up seated behind a bunch of people who felt the need to talk through the entire movie. Worst of all, though, was the fact that someone had actually brought a baby to the movie. First of all, it’s a PG-13 movie. There’s no need for a baby to see it. And second of all, you got a free pass. Pay for a freakin’ babysitter. Instead, though, these people brought their baby, who cried and laughed and babbled through the entire screening—until Kevin complained (twice) and finally got the inconsiderate parent (and the babbling baby) thrown out. Really, though, it makes me sad to think that someone else got thrown out so the entire crowd could listen to a baby babble through the whole movie.

Needless to say, the post-screening banter was less about the movie itself than it was about the pre-screening entertainment.

In fact, the same was the case the next morning, when a few of us met up to see The Water Horse. John doesn’t sit by us at evening screenings (or perhaps we don’t sit by him—since he was here first). He prefers sitting way up front (something to do with the legroom and the quick getaway). So we compared notes on the previous evening’s events. And as more critics showed up, everyone added their two cents to the discussion.

On Wednesday night, there were a couple of screenings, but I ended up taking a much-needed night off. But the discussion continued on Thursday night, when a bunch of us met up for dinner before a late screening of Sweeney Todd.

Really, this week was a big week: both I Am Legend and Sweeney Todd, two movies that we’d been looking forward to seeing for ages. Actually, I’d been looking forward to seeing Sweeney Todd since I first heard it was being made. Up until last week, I was a bit concerned that I wouldn’t be able to see it until Thursday night—the night before release—thanks to next week’s screening schedule insanity. But this last-minute screening popped up on the schedule, and we all decided that it was much more important than the screening of P.S. I Love You. To celebrate, we all met up for happy hour before heading to the screening.

Since it was such a last-minute screening, it was held in a tiny theater. Still, there was a line when we showed up. We walked up to the security guys, and Neil announced, “Hi. We’re cool.” The guard gave him a funny look, and the rest of us laughed and explained that we were press.

“Ah,” the guard said. “Then you are cool. Go on in.”

We took our seats and continued the chatter, comparing notes on screenings—and the award screeners that we’ve been sent. And we all took note of the obvious improvement when one of Tuesday night’s press members showed up at six minutes before the screening instead of one or two. Fortunately, it wasn’t a crowded screening, so there were plenty of seats left.

Since I’m not really supposed to talk about the movie until it comes out next week, I’ll just say that I wasn’t disappointed—and I’ll leave it at that.

The week concluded with another screening on Friday morning. Apparently, There Will Be Blood was a popular one—since all kinds of press members came out of the woodwork for it. There were people we rarely see (because they don’t actually review movies anymore) and others that we’d never seen before. Personally, I wouldn’t be coming out of the woodwork for a 2½-hour drama on a Friday morning, but I guess that’s just me.
Fortunately, the screening went off without a hitch—until about 2/3 of the way through, when the speakers started crackling. I had a flashback to last year’s The Pursuit of Happyness screening, when, about 2/3 of the way through, we got to a reel that was backwards and upside-down, causing us to sit and wait for an hour before watching the end of the movie. I was a little worried that it would happen again—this week, nothing would have surprised me. As the speaker crackled again, Jason announced, “It’s White Noise! There’s a ghost in the theater!”

“What’s he trying to tell us?” I asked.

“That this movie’s way too long.”

Eventually, though, the movie ended—without interruption. I had lost all feeling in my legs, and I seriously had to pee. So it was good to get out. When it was over, John and Clay and I went out for a late-late lunch at a new little restaurant down the street. John and Clay bickered like an old married couple. John and I gossiped like a couple of teenage girls. And Clay and I discussed how much of a snob John is. So, pretty much, it was lunch as usual. The food was good, and the company was even better.

Next week, we’re in for a long haul. It’s nice that we had some scheduling changes—so we can actually see more of the movies that had all been scheduled to screen at the same time—but it means that we have that many more screenings to attend. We’ve got screenings on Monday and Tuesday morning, as well as Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night. If I want, I can go to a Thursday night screening, too—but since we’re packing our bags and heading out for our Christmas travels on Friday afternoon, that might be a stupid idea. But, then again, that’s never stopped me before. So we’ll see…

Hibernation

2007-12-07T13:35:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Golden Compass
Sleuth

As I’ve mentioned before, last December was pure insanity. Screenings day and night. We all lived on coffee and donuts. And then, after it was all over and I finally had the time to sit and relax, I got ridiculously sick.

This year, however, things are different—to the point that it’s a little bit creepy.

Believe it or not, I only went to one screening this week. Yeah, it’s December, and I only had one screening. It feels wrong.

Anyway…the one screening of the week was on Monday night. The whole thing was a bit of a scheduling disaster, since my knitting group meets from 4-6 and the screening was starting at 7 on the other side of town. I was also hoping to make it to my husband’s office to pick him up before I left for the screening. All of this is, technically, impossible. So I showed up for knitting at 4, hoping that nobody would show up. I know that’s probably mean of me, since I love the kids and all—but, well, sometimes I just don’t have time. Fortunately, though, the screening gods were smiling down upon me. I paced around for 25 minutes, and no one showed up—so I hit the road. I had just enough time to pick up my husband, drive him back home so he could change, heat up some leftovers, shovel down dinner, and hit the road.

By the time we got to the theater—at about 6:15—they were already letting people in. Normally, they wait until a half hour before the show—which gives the rest of us plenty of time to get in and get our seats before the general public starts showing up and ripping the “Reserved for Press” signs off the seats they want. Fortunately, though, Jason and Bill were already there, saving seats for the rest of us. We hadn’t seen Bill in forever, so it was nice that he decided to grace us with his presence again. Obviously, he’d been suffering from withdrawal—and, in his absence, his taste had suffered, since he spent the evening talking about how much he hated Juno.

As we were sitting around, waiting for The Golden Compass to begin, Jason and I discussed how very strange December was turning out to be. And, despite all the insanity of last December, we both admitted that we missed it. We missed those morning screenings at The Theater Everyone Loves. And even though they don’t give us free coffee, there was always someone willing to pick up donuts at Tim Horton’s before the show, and that made it fun. We hung out together pretty much every day, comparing notes on all the December movies that were supposed to be good but weren’t. We were all exhausted and strung out, but at least we had each other.

This year, however, we’re very, very alone. One reason is that there just aren’t that many movies coming out right now. Last weekend, only Awake was in wide release, and it didn’t even screen. This weekend, it’s just The Golden Compass, as well as a couple of others in limited release. The next three weeks, however, are when things start coming out (which means that the next couple of weeks will be a whole lot busier—though still nothing compared to last year). Another reason, though, is that we’ve been getting piles and piles of screener DVDs, which means that it’s not as necessary to drive out to the screening. In fact, if I hadn’t had so many screeners, I would have had to leave the house for three more screenings this week.

Just for the record, we all agreed that The Golden Compass wasn’t worth the hype. Jason and I kept giggling about the strange little discrepancies, and I pretty much stopped caring about the whole thing about a half hour in. My favorite part was the end, when, upon seeing the credits, one woman in the front of the theater shrieked, “WHAT?!” As we were making our way out, I did some eavesdropping on people who had read the book and were seriously pissed off about the movie. Basically, it looks neat, but it’s just a bunch of blah, blah, blah.

Though it was another slow week for screenings, this week was quite a week for award screeners. On Monday alone, I got six—half of which were for movies that I hadn’t already seen. Three more arrived on Tuesday. On Wednesday, we were hit with a snowstorm, which meant that I was overjoyed when another screener showed up—a screener for Atonement, which was scheduled to screen on the other side of town on Thursday morning.

On Thursday morning, after the snow had stopped, I made a point of spreading the front steps with ice melt. The UPS and FedEx guys have been stopping by so much lately that I wanted to be welcoming.

At 11:00—while some of my colleagues were, presumably, waiting for their screening of Atonement to begin—I began mine in the comfort of my own living room. I had a cup of coffee in hand, my notebook at my side, and my favorite blue afghan on my lap. Sure, there weren’t any scones, and I didn’t have the usual gang of yahoos to compare notes with after the screening. But it was pretty nice nonetheless. And I didn’t have to spend the extra time (and gas) driving to the other side of town. I even got to pause the screening at noon, long enough to make myself lunch.

I’m thinking, though, that I’ll have to spend the next year working on setting up a home theater in the basement. That way, I’ll be able to host my very own screenings next December. I’ll be able to enjoy screenings with my coffee and my afghan and all my favorite yahoos.

The strange thing about Thursday, though, was that I went a whole day without a single visit from a delivery guy. Despite the fact that I have a giant pile of screeners waiting to be watched—as well as a bunch of other screenings coming up—that made me sad. I felt lonely and neglected. I may have even pouted a bit as I watched the UPS guy and the FedEx guy speed past my window. I know it’s silly—especially since the last thing I need is another screener on top of the pile of nine that I still need to watch—but when you get used to running to the door once or twice a day to see what bounty the delivery guy has bestowed upon you, it sucks just a little bit when you have a day without a single delivery.

Fortunately, though, I got a visit from the UPS guy today, while I was grabbing some lunch. He didn’t deliver an award screener, mind you—but it was a DVD nonetheless. Add that to the pile….

Next week, things start to pick up a little bit. Everybody’s psyched for Tuesday, when we get to see I Am Legend—which we’ve pretty much been looking forward to seeing since September. We’re all pretty excited for There Will Be Blood, too, which screens later in the week. After that comes Sweeney Todd (which I’ve been looking forward to seeing since about March) and a pile of others. So I’m hoping we’ll have some good screenings between now and Christmas. Ho ho ho!

2 Weeks 1 Entry

2007-11-30T14:31:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
I’m Not There
Hitman
August Rush
Enchanted
The Mist
No Country for Old Men

It appears as though I forgot that last Friday was actually a Friday. I’m going to blame it on the turkey. But, really, there wasn’t a heck of a lot to write about last week. It was gloriously quiet—except for Monday, when I had to be everywhere at once.

Mondays, as you probably already know, from my regular bitching and moaning, are not convenient days for screenings. I send out a newsletter to my contributors every Monday morning, so that takes some time—and then there’s all kinds of stuff that I need to catch up on from the weekend. I try not to work over the weekend (or at least not at my desk), so there’s usually plenty of email that needs my attention. Also, I will have inevitably watched a couple of DVDs and maybe finished a book or played a game over the weekend—so there’s stuff to review. If I have to take off and head to a screening, that just puts me that much farther behind.

On the Monday before Thanksgiving, however, I had the choice. I could (a) go to a screening and get it over with or (b) wait until Tuesday night. As much as I treasure those Monday mornings at the office, I ended up choosing option (a)—because going with (b) would mean being out for some reason or another Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Also, my husband needed to head into the office—and since, with his broken arm, he’s still not allowed to drive for a few weeks, I had to bring him. Of course, that meant that I had a whole hour (if even that) to work in the morning before driving him out to the office. He had a meeting at 10, so I had plenty of time before the screening. I stopped at Tim Horton’s on the way to the screening to pick up a bagel, and I was still early—so I took the time to start drafting a book review. I also took some time to listen to the projectionist and the security guards chatting about the best ways to pirate movies.

The screening was for Hitman, which was totally ridiculous—though, fortunately, short. It meant that I had time to get home and inhale some form of lunch before my appointment at the doctor’s office at 2. I was told to block out an hour for the appointment—in which I was taking The Great Asthma Test (which, as it turns out, could possibly be the hardest test I have ever taken)—but it ended up taking until 4. This was bad, since I was supposed to be at my knitting group at 4. So I ran back to the house, picked up my knitting, and hit the road. I made it to knitting a half hour or so late, and, of course, it was the one week when my favorite regular kid showed up on time. Of course. But we had a fabulous time knitting until 6, when I jumped in the car, pulled out the dinner I’d packed for myself (a Slim-Fast bar) and headed to the theater for a 7:00 screening of Enchanted. And then, after all that, I got to go home. (Once there, I discovered that my husband, who had gotten a ride home from work with a coworker, had forgotten his keys. He had also forgotten his cell phone that day, which made things pretty complicated. Fortunately, though, he did manage to get inside—and he didn’t have to sit on the front steps for three hours.)

So anyway…that was it for screenings last week. My favorite day of the whole week was Wednesday, when, apparently, all the agencies decided to take the day off. I didn’t get a single press release all day—and it was glorious. I got stuff done. And then, just like that, the week was pretty much over. David and I celebrated by taking our spouses out for dinner and Spamalot.

But don’t you worry. I had plenty to keep me busy over the weekend—since we’ve been getting the awards screeners by the boatload. So I got to rewatch Hairspray, and I managed to stay awake through Into the Wild.

This week was actually more of the same. If you check IMDb, you’ll notice that pretty much nothing opens this weekend—other than Awake, which, for some strange reason, the press weren’t allowed to see. That meant that we only had one screening on the schedule for this week—on Tuesday morning. But it gave us enough fun for the whole freakin’ week.

It all started innocently enough, with some coffee and scones and some chatter about award screeners. We made our way into the theater and took our seats. Then, not long into the film, some guy wandered down the aisle, carrying what appeared to be a bunch of electrical cords. Huh, I thought to myself. And I forgot about the movie for a while as I watched the little man with curiosity as he walked to the front of the theater and through the front exit (which, it turns out, is actually just a curtain). And that’s when the pounding began. And possibly some drilling. And it lasted through the rest of the movie.

So, if you ask me, I’m pretty sure that Sleuth stars Michael Caine, Jude Law, and a noisy little man with a hammer.

Just because there was just one screening this week, it doesn’t mean that I was off the hook. I was scheduled to appear on Fat Guys at the Movies this week, and, due to the lack of any new releases to talk about, we decided to talk about screeners. That meant I had to catch Margot at the Wedding on Monday night. And on Tuesday night, while my husband was away on business, I settled in for a little Tuesday Night Porno in the form of Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution. As it turned out, that whole Lust, Caution thing was just a little guest-host joke that Kevin and Neil played on me (called: Let’s Make the Guest Host Watch Boring Chinese Porn), since they said we’d be discussing it—but then they decided that they weren’t actually going to watch it.

So anyway, last night, we were scheduled to start recording at 9. Or at least Neil and I intended to start at 9. Kevin showed up…whenever. And then he’d forgotten the extra mic, so he had to go back and get it—but only after surfing the ‘net with Richard the Producer for obscene videos of 2 Girls and 1 Something-or-other. Neil and I refused to join in, but we did see some chick online who threw up after watching whatever it was they were watching. So it’s probably best that Neil and I didn’t join in, since I totally hate throwing up.

Finally, after Kevin and Richard’s weekly porn search—during which Neil and I made it part of the way through another viewing of Juno—we got started. That was probably about 11. The show, however, was a total blast. I’m not entirely sure what we talked about for all that time, but I do know that I won’t be sending my mother over to listen to the online version. She’s already concerned enough about me. No need to put myself on the Naughty list so close to Christmas.

Now, as another week comes to a close, we’re once again facing a strangely quiet week. Last year at this time, we had seven screenings scheduled (or at least seven that we could technically make it to, without being two places at once), plus a Saturday morning. This year, we have five plus a Saturday, two of which we already have screeners for. Last year, the second week of December was our nine-screening week. This year, we have six. Don’t get me wrong—six is plenty. It just seems strange, after the insanity of last year. Perhaps it’s just because we’re getting screeners of so much stuff. Or maybe it’s just because nothing’s opening in December. Or maybe it’s because everything’s scheduled for the week before Christmas—11 screenings fit into three time slots. In other words, unless one of us figures out how to travel in time (or unless someone starts scheduling morning screenings), we’re all pretty much screwed. For instance, if I want to see Walk Hard, I’ll have to choose to skip one of the following: Charlie Wilson’s War, National Treasure, or Sweeney Todd. Looks like I’ll be missing Walk Hard…

Pre-December Warm-Ups

2007-11-16T17:21:00.000-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium
Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead

With Thanksgiving right around the corner, things got a little crazy for the members of the Central Ohio Film Critics Association this week, reminding us that December is breathing down our necks.

When we started the week, we had six screenings already scheduled—most of which I was really looking forward to, for a change. So when it was time to get started on Monday morning, I packed my favorite travel mug and headed to our screening of I’m Not There, the marvelously artistic yet totally perplexing film about Bob Dylan.

By that point on Monday morning, I was just happy to get out of the house for a while, for any reason other than to drive to the pharmacy to pick up more gauze or to find something called Betadine. It had been a long weekend for my poor, one-armed husband, and neither of us had gotten much sleep—which is no way to start a hectic week like this one. But despite the recent overabundance of award season disappointments, I was ridiculously upbeat about the week’s offerings. Perhaps I’d just mistaken my husband’s pain meds for my morning multivitamin.

As we walked out of I’m Not There, comparing notes and trying to piece it all together, we were told that we had back-to-back screenings scheduled for Tuesday—one at 11 and another at 1. That took the weekly tally up to seven. And although it was Monday—and I was already exhausted—I briefly considered going to both, as well as the evening screening of Love in the Time of Cholera. But, eventually, I came to my senses.

Also on Monday, a very tragic event occurred. After I rinsed out my favorite travel mug, it fell off the counter, and the handle broke off. I was devastated. I’d asked for the mug last Christmas, after realizing that December would be so much easier to deal with if I had a nice big travel coffee mug. And now, with December right around the corner, I once again found myself mugless. I began to panic—until my one-armed husband studied the bottom of the mug and noticed that it had a lifetime guarantee. I sent the company an email about it, and they offered to replace it. So I would like to thank the kind people at Aladdin who are, at this moment, working to make my December livable.

On Tuesday morning, I dropped my husband off at his office so he could show his face for a while during my 11:00 screening of Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. Apparently, I was the only one who was actually looking forward to the movie (and I had been ever since I found out that it was written and directed by Zach Helm, who wrote Stranger Than Fiction). But, in the end, I was right. Only John (who will, from this point forward, be known as Scrooge) pulled his nose up at it. And he continued to do so as he and Clay and I walked across the street from the theater for a quick smoothie break. Of course, as I told John, I wasn’t really surprised that he hated Magorium (which, incidentally, he dubbed “Dumborium”), since he tends to prefer slow movies that go nowhere—like Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. But he continued to get more and more adamant as we sipped our smoothies. From now on, John is cut off from ginseng smoothies.

On Tuesday night, I had every intention of seeing Cholera, despite the fact that it didn’t seem to be a popular choice among critics in general (John said it was a film for us “refined critics”—this coming from a guy who once called me “trash”). Although I really wanted to see it—and although I really wanted to be considered a refined critic, it suddenly occurred to me that I just didn’t have the time to go. I had a game that needed to be reviewed and a feature article that needed to be written—and when I stopped by the mailbox, I found two DVDs that needed my attention. So I stayed home, maintaining my reputation as “trash”—a reputation that was probably only confirmed by the excitement I felt on Wednesday morning, when I showed up for the screening of Stephen King’s latest, The Mist.

On Wednesday night, though, I redeemed myself by choosing the Coen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men over the 3D version of Beowulf. Then again, perhaps I would have appeared more refined if I’d chosen the animated version of classic literature. I guess I’ll have to check with John on that to be sure. But, either way, I went with the Coen Brothers.

The screening was at The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up. That meant that the guy ahead of me refused to turn off his cell phone (as did numerous others throughout the theater) and the pair behind us felt the need to comment on everything that was happening on-screen. And the people who’d decided to sit in the middle of our aisle decided to get into heavy debate before choosing to get up and climb over top of the rest of us mid-movie. And No Country is clearly not a brainless movie. It requires concentration that I was not allowed. So, despite the fact that I loved most of it, by the end, I was angry and confused. And I was pretty tempted to grab the cell phone out of the hands of the guy ahead of me, throw it down on the floor, and stomp on it. And I was pretty tempted to smack the people behind me around a bit. But perhaps I’m just tired and cranky.

I could, however, relate to the frustration felt by some random man at the front of the theater—who, upon seeing the screen go black, yelled, “Aw, hells to tha no!” Personally, I thought that it was just a theater screw-up (which, for this theater, wouldn’t have been anything new), and they’d just lost the last reel—but then the credits started rolling. And I was perplexed. I’m still trying to figure it all out, and I’m eagerly awaiting the award screener, so I can watch it again.

On Thursday morning, we actually had the morning off. It was strange—so strange, in fact, that I found myself panicking when I got up, thinking I had to rush to get everything done before the latest screening. Boy, was I relieved when I remembered that I had nowhere to be until 7.

After spending the day trying to get my head above water, I headed over to Neil’s place at 6—because we’d decided to carpool to The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up, since it’s also The Theater That Has No Parking. Really, it was a tough call, deciding whether or not to go. After all, Juno doesn’t come out for another few weeks—and it had been a crazy week already. So I had to decide whether I wanted to tack one more screening onto this week’s list or hold off until one of the later screenings, in December, which is likely to be even more insane. But Jason and Neil were going, so I figure I’d go, too. And there, at The Theater Where Nobody Shuts Up, I ended up seated behind some kid with the biggest hair ever. He also had good posture. So I’m not quite sure what happened at the bottom part of the screening, but the rest of it was fun. And I got a free T-shirt out of the deal—and for once, it’s one that I’ll actually wear (unlike those creepy T-shirts that some geeks gave me at last year’s board game convention).

The rep warned me weeks ago that they were doing some serious promo for this one, and it’s worth checking out. So if you want to see it for free, check out FoxSearchlight.com to find free screenings near you.

After a four-day screening marathon, I had today free. It was glorious. But it also meant that I got to my computer this morning to groggily stare down an inbox crammed full with super-urgent emails. And, from its spot beside my computer, a ridiculously long to-do list called to me. Fortunately, though, my husband’s convalescence means that I’ll most likely have plenty of time to play catch-up over the weekend (except when I have to drive him to get a haircut). And, other than a pair of screenings on Monday, the week is free and clear. There’s also turkey and stuffing and all kinds of spare screener-viewing time involved, so I’m looking forward to it.

Writer on Strike

2007-11-09T17:18:00.001-05:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Fred Claus
American Gangster

Okay...so I’m not really on strike. But it seemed like a good excuse, considering the circumstances.

The truth, however, is that I’ve spent more time at home this week, playing nurse, than I have going to screenings. Despite the fact that I make my husband promise that he’ll come home in one piece every time he plays hockey or heads to the mountain biking trails, he apparently forgot his promise over the weekend. While he was biking, he flipped his bike and broke his arm. After three days of visits to various urgent care facilities, doctors’ offices, and hospital labs, we were told that he needed surgery. And that, my friends, has been my week.

I did make it to two screenings, though. Fred Claus was Tuesday night. We had the pleasure of sitting behind the most obnoxious family I’ve ever encountered in a theater. There were two kids—probably ages 2 and 5. And their mom and grandparents saw absolutely no reason to try to get them to shut up. Or sit down. In fact, they thought it was cute. So they just talked right back.

Then, this morning, I got back to work for Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. Even though I only really missed a day of screenings, I felt like I’d been away forever—so it was wonderful to see everyone again. I kept my phone on vibrate, in case of any medical emergencies at home—but we made it through without incident. Then again, considering the movie, I actually wouldn’t have been too upset if I’d had to walk out.

I know it may sound just a little bit selfish of me, but I’m relieved that we got this whole surgery thing over with when we did. Since it was on Wednesday, it meant that I only missed two screenings on Thursday. Had the surgery been scheduled for next week, I would have had to miss so much more. Next week is a busy six-screening week. I’m sure I’ll have all kinds of stories by next Friday.

Pay Off

2007-11-02T16:56:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Martian Child
Reservation Road

For weeks, the COFCA regulars have been buzzing about American Gangster. Despite the whole A Good Year mess last year (which, from this time forward, I shall stop mentioning when talking about Russell Crowe and Ridley Scott), we were all pretty psyched to see the two of them together—with the added Denzel Washington bonus. Colin saw it before the rest of us, and he was thrilled, which only added to our general excitement. And finally, on Tuesday night, it was time for the screening.

The big dilemma of the week was the fact that the only screening of American Gangster was playing at the same time as the only screening of Bee Movie, which meant we had to choose between the two. For me, it wasn’t much of a decision—but it was disappointing that, in a week as slow as this one, we couldn’t actually see both. But sometimes, them’s the breaks.

When my husband and I arrived at the theater, 40 minutes or so before the screening, there was already a line wrapped around the building. At times like these, I’m so very glad that I’m press. Because, in case I haven’t mentioned before, our unofficial motto is: We Don’t Wait in Lines. We hung out in the lobby for a few minutes before Neil came down the stairs and whisked us away to…the Dreaded Balcony.

Despite the insanity and frustration that usually results from a few hours in The Balcony, we keep going back. We can’t help it. The seats are cushy and leather, and the lower seats are just too close to the screen. So the balcony it was. A gigantic crowd of us showed up for the screening, so we pretty much took up an entire row, which helped to ensure that, for the most part, the most obnoxious people in the balcony this time were the critics. Granted, there were a few people who were a little too excited to be there—and whose excitement spilled out into the beginning of the movie—but they were actually relatively well-behaved this time around. Sure, they got a little loud during the usual giveaway, shouting out demands for equal swag rights for the balcony. But that’s a given.

I must say, it’s nice to be sitting in those comfy balcony seats when the movie is more than two and a half hours long. But, fortunately, American Gangster didn’t feel that long. And even though I always worry a bit when I’m a little too excited to see a movie—for fear that it will end up being a huge disappointment, as so many others have—this time, I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, it was one of those movies that, the more I thought about it afterwards, the more I liked it.

It was definitely a late night, though. Thanks to the outrageous number of trailers, the 7:30 movie didn’t actually get started until about 7:50. So we didn’t get to the car until almost 10:30. Then we had to wait in line for another 20 minutes or so to get out of the parking garage. Another few minutes, and we would have been over our four-hour parking validation limit. Ah, the joys of hanging out in the city.

Since Wednesday was Halloween, we didn’t have an evening screening—and this week was strangely void of daytime screenings. So we didn’t have another screening until Thursday night.

Thursday was one of those crazy days. I got to work at the usual 8:30—at which time my computer decided it didn’t feel like waking up yet. I spent an hour trying to get it to do something, and then I gave up and restarted it. So it was after 9:30 by the time I finally got to work on the weekly newsletter. Fortunately, I didn’t have too many extras to add, so I managed to get it sent out by 11 or so. After that, I had to rush to get things done. I needed to work on my American Gangster review—which, for some reason, was a really hard one to write. But I needed to work on it—because I needed to have a few thoughts fresh in my mind at night, when I was scheduled to make my debut on Fat Guys at the Movies. I also needed to recall my thoughts on Martian Child. And, in general, I needed to psych myself up a bit.

You see, Fat Guys is completely different from the radio I’m used to. When I get to sit in on It’s Movie Time, we only have five minutes—so everything is carefully planned out. There isn’t a lot of time for spontaneity, so we get our reviews written up ahead of time—and then we play around with a few interjections and things later. I get 130 words per movie, and that’s it. Fat Guys, on the other hand, is a much longer show. There aren’t any scripts, so everything is totally spontaneous and off-the-cuff. And, as it turns out, spontaneity totally freaks me out. This is why I’m a writer. I like to be able to edit and delete and cut and paste.

So anyway, I managed to sneak in a quick non-working lunch break—during which I ran out to Target to pick up some post-Halloween half-price goodies. Sadly, there was very little Halloween candy left, which made me very angry. I did get some candy corn, though—one bag for home, one bag for the evening’s recording session. And some M&Ms. And a small plastic gargoyle, which I hope to put in the yard somewhere, to ward off evil spirits…and evil neighbor children. I was tempted to buy myself a crazy Halloween wig while I was at it, too—but I decided against it. Then I rushed back to finish up a few last-minute things.

At about 5:20, I quickly rushed off to make dinner, which I inhaled in about 5 minutes. I got ready to head out, and I said good-bye to my husband, who was coming home just as I was leaving for the August Rush screening at 6. I drove over to the theater and saved a bunch of seats for the rest of the gang.

Before the movie, we had plenty of time to chat. David filled us in on how much he hated Bee Movie, and we spent a lot of time discussing what the looming Hollywood strikes could mean for us. With all the studios rushing to get any old movie green-lit and into production before everyone goes on strike, who knows what could be coming. David mentioned that, during an earlier strike, it meant that quirky, more imaginative movies were green-lit, and it was actually a good thing. But we’re a little worried that it means we’ll be subjected to a giant pile of crap—and, perhaps, a pretty slow summer.

Since August Rush isn’t coming out for a couple of weeks yet, I can’t say much about it right now. So…let’s move right along.

After the screening, I headed out to the great Fat Guys studio, where we got everything ready for the show. Kevin hadn’t gone to the screening, so we had to wait for him to show up. Neil didn’t seem to have much hope of seeing him for the next hour or so—since, he says, Kevin often says he’s heading right over, and then he ends up stopping by the gym on the way over. After all, Kevin is quite concerned about keeping his girlish figure. But, surprisingly, he bypassed the gym and headed right over.

The Fat Guys have quite an impressive set-up—lots of microphones and cables and headsets and things, and a nice big screen that reminded us of the time. And, just for the record, there was no pizza or beer—which you might expect to find in a studio where you record a show called “Fat Guys at the Movies.” It was all a little bit overwhelming, to tell you the truth. But, somehow, I made it through. It took a while for me to get up to speed—since, well, the guys have had 36 shows to figure out how all this stuff works, and I had about 36 minutes. Believe me—they make it look easy. By the end, though, I was getting the hang of it—and, despite my whole fear-of-spontaneity thing, and the occasional presence of noxious fumes, I had a great time. The guys told me I’m actually allowed to come back—and I’m looking forward to it.

After we finished recording the show and playing back some of the funnier parts (particular the parts when Kevin burps and when he confuses the rest of us by talking about something called a “shatchel”), we wrapped up a few things, and I hit the road—and I finally made it home by about 1:30. If I do the math in my somewhat cloudy brain, that adds up to a 17-hour day. And that, my friends, is one long day.

It looks like things are starting to pick up a bit toward the end of next week. I suppose it could be that pre-Thanksgiving rush, hurrying to cram in the screenings before we have a couple of days off (after which things get really crazy). We’ve only got two evening screenings again this week, but the daytime screenings are starting to pop up on the schedule again—and we’ll end the week with screenings on Thursday morning, Thursday night, and Friday morning. It’ll be a good pre-December warm-up.

It’s All About the Kids

2007-10-26T15:27:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Lars and the Real Girl
Wristcutters: A Love Story
The Darjeeling Limited
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

This week was reserved for movies about kids: one about a kid from another planet and one about a dead little boy (As David said, “Are there any movies anymore that don’t have dead little kids in them?”). But first things first: let’s talk about Dane Cook.

The Stop Dane Cook campaign is well under way. Kevin recently published an article on FilmSchoolRejects.com to discuss the campaign—and he’s gotten some hilarious response. Personally, I’ve been highly amused by the angry responses from people who have absolutely no sense of humor. But that’s just me. People with no sense of humor totally crack me up. In the article, though, Kevin also explains how you, too, can get your very own Stop Dane Cook ribbon. So drop him a line and start supporting the campaign—and tell him I sent you.

So…back to the week’s screenings.

After a couple of frantic, screening-packed weeks, the studios slammed on the brakes this week. I kept waiting for more screenings to show up on the schedule, but none did. So we only had three screenings scheduled for this week. And the first one wasn’t until Wednesday night.

Having spent practically every day and night with the gang for a couple of weeks, I actually felt lost without them this week. Three whole days without seeing the COFCA gang… I felt like something was missing—like that ever-present feeling of panic. I had three whole days in which I didn’t have to rush out of the office to a screening…before rushing back to write up the review before racing out that night to see another one. My to-do list got much shorter, and I was able to do a bunch of things that I’d been putting off for weeks. But, as it turns out, I get a lot more done when I’m totally stressed out and under pressure. Go figure.

So I was thrilled to head out on Wednesday night to see Martian Child. For one thing, I hadn’t seen most of the guys in over a week. For another thing, I was sponsoring the screening—so a bunch of the people there were there because of me. So that was pretty cool.

I got there at the usual time, and Jennifer, our good and faithful rep, let Bill and me in to save our usual seats. John was already there, so I got to catch up with him. He’d been to see his son in LA, and, as always, he had plenty of stories to tell. Then I headed up to get caught up with the rest of the posse. I was still running around, talking to random people throughout the theater when the lights went down, sending me racing back to my seat.

The problem with family-friendly movies is that, well, people bring their families. In general, I tend to like kids. Heck, I hang out and knit with them every week. But I don’t particularly like them when they’re sitting behind me in a movie theater—especially not when they have a severe case of ADHD, as was the case with the kid behind me for Martian Child. It started out before the movie even started—with the noises. And the tap-dancing. It then continued through the movie with the constant tap-dancing on the back of my seat. And the occasional grabbing at the back of my seat, pulling me back, and then letting go, sending me flying forward. I came painfully close to turning around and strangling the child. But, for the sake of the family movie and its spirit of love and patience, I refrained. But it was close.

Fortunately, though, there was booze after the movie, and I was able to drink that obnoxious child away. I headed to the restaurant next door with John, Neil, Kevin, Chris, and Chris’s new girlfriend-type-person for some junk food and drinks. Neil and I ordered a ginormous platter of fried food, for which John berated me—and I responded by forcing him to watch me take a big, huge bite of fried something-or-other. A good time was had by all. We also had a good view of the Red Sox game, and I was sure to keep everyone updated as to how badly the Rockies were getting trounced. (Go Sox!) The next thing I knew, it was 11:00, and it was well past my curfew. But it was a wonderful night. We haven’t gone out for drinks in ages—not since Bill got his new job—and we were long overdue.

Despite the fact that I got home late and went straight back to my computer to get a few things done before turning in, I still had to get up on time on Thursday morning—because I had a newsletter to send out before heading off to another screening. Thursday morning’s screening was Reservation Road, the aforementioned dead-little-boy movie, which was sure to brighten all of our spirits.

Perhaps I’m just turning into a bitter, cynical film critic, but Reservation Road didn’t actually depress me—or at least not for the reasons it should have. I didn’t cry through the movie—though I do realize that dead little boys are very sad things indeed. Just not in this movie. I couldn’t help but snicker through parts of the movie—the parts that were just that bad. My personal favorite moment in the whole movie is when a 10-year-old boy (one who’s still alive) announces that he called one of his school friends “a no-good coward.” This, for the record, was supposed to have been said in 2004. Not 1954. Whoever wrote that apparently hasn’t talked to a 10-year-old boy since the ‘50s.

I was supposed to go to another screening on Thursday night, since I’d missed all the earlier screenings of Dan in Real Life (to which I was going to wear my Stop Dane Cook ribbon), but then something came up. My dear husband called on Wednesday afternoon to check if skipping Thursday night’s screening—since he’d just gotten his hands on a pair of box seats for the Blue Jackets game. Hmmmm…let me think a minute…. Box seats for the Blue Jackets game…or a screening of a Dane Cook movie? Box seats it is.

I think I made the right choice. The game was incredible—the fourth shut-out of the season. Nash scored an amazing goal from between his legs, and the third goal…we’re still not entirely sure what happened with that. I can’t believe this season—I’m not used to watching the Blue Jackets win. This 5-3-1 record is unbelievable. It was a great game—and we had an incredible time.

Today David really wanted me to go see Saw IV with him—just so he wouldn’t have to sit through it by himself. I was tempted, but (a) I haven’t seen the other three, (b) if I were to actually pay to see it, wouldn’t that just be encouraging them to make more?, and (c) considering how behind I am in general, the last thing I needed was another movie that I’d have to review. So I regretfully declined. Instead, David and I grabbed lunch before the movie and talked about how very weird are jobs are (though David’s pretty sure that it’s even weirder to be the people who actually write the screenplays for some of the movies we have to see). And then I returned to the office, where I continued to find anything to do besides writing music reviews. And that’s where I am right now.

In other news this week, we were all surprised and somewhat amused to get a visit from the FedEx guy this week—requiring our signature for our for-your-consideration award-screener copy of Knocked Up. Now, I liked Knocked Up and all—but Best Picture material? I’m not so sure.

Then again, with all the bad award hopefuls coming out this year, Knocked Up could just have a fighting chance…

Next week is another eerily slow week (which makes us start to worry that we’re going to be bombarded once again come December—we should probably get extra sleep now, while we can). At this point, we only have two screenings scheduled—Tuesday and Thursday (since, of course, you can’t schedule screenings on Halloween—or all the critics in town would get their houses egged). Unfortunately, the screenings for Bee Movie and American Gangster are being held at the same time—which means that David will probably be all by himself at the Bee Movie screening. Sorry Jerry, but Russell and Denzel win.

Alone in the Dark with Strangers

2007-10-19T16:26:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Gone Baby Gone
Elizabeth: The Golden Age

Before I begin with the usual, I’d like to note that NightsAndWeekends.com is sponsoring a screening of Martian Child this coming Wednesday (the 24th) at the AMC Lennox in Columbus—and we’ve got free passes. If you’re in the Columbus area and you want to see a movie for free, just visit N&W.com for details.

Okay…let’s get on with it then.

This week was one crazy week. Thanks to our ridiculously damp and musty hotel room in Dallas, I was one sick puppy by Friday afternoon. Fortunately, I did get some work done, but not a ton—and I probably wasn’t much fun on Saturday, our one day to wander around the city.

So when we got home on Sunday night, I was beat. Unfortunately, I had one crazy week ahead of me—and I didn’t have time to curl up in a ball and just be sick for a couple of days. I had stuff to do—the most important of which was preparing for another radio appearance on Wednesday morning, to fill in for Clay, who was recovering quite nicely from the surgery he’d had on Friday. As it turned out, the morning that I drove to the wrong theater for the Into the Wild screening came back to bite me in the butt. I also missed the Darjeeling Limited screening while I was in Dallas. So that meant I had some catch-up to play.

Despite the fact that I usually hate Monday morning screenings—especially on Monday mornings after I’ve just gotten back from being out of town—I was relieved to find out that there was a screening of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford scheduled for Monday morning. That meant that I could check out Jesse James in the morning—and come back to write up my review in the afternoon. Theoretically.

Of course, it didn’t occur to me at the time that Jesse James was a ridiculous two hours and forty minutes long (something that I’ve been generally bitching about all week—so I’ll refrain from continuing my rant here). Fortunately, I had some good drugs, which kept me from hacking up a lung during the movie. But, despite the fact that it was the Non-Drowsy variety, it didn’t really help all that much when it came to keeping me awake. I think I managed to stay awake through the whole thing, but it was a battle. Kevin admitted afterwards that he slept through parts. He also got up at one point to get his coat (because it was freezing in the theater—which probably helped to keep me awake). Then he wandered around for a while…stopped in the bathroom…wandered around the parking lot…and came back. Chris, who was sitting next to him, leaned over to try to tell him what he missed, and Kevin replied, “You know what? I don’t even care.”

At one point, David raced out to the bathroom, too. See? That’s the problem with movies like this one. You need the coffee to get through them, but they’re so long that you can’t have the coffee—or else you won’t get to see the whole thing. It’s a Catch-22. Anyway…David came back in and asked Jason and me if he’d missed anything, and we just sighed and said, “Nope.” Probably, he just missed more long, lingering shots of snow on the prairie.

After Jesse James, I had planned on catching screenings on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. But that didn’t happen. Monday night was Rendition. And, well, I just didn’t feel like sitting through it. And I had an excuse—I was sick. So I stayed home and went to bed early instead.

On Tuesday, I had three options: Into the Wild, Things We Lost in the Fire, and 30 Days of Night (which I’d been planning on seeing). But, once again, I skipped. I played the Sick card again—especially since I had to be up by 6:30 on Wednesday morning, so I could get to the studio by 8:30.

Fortunately, though, I was prepared on Wednesday morning. I managed to crank out some reviews, and I was heavily drugged. I couldn’t guarantee that I was going to make it cough-free through the whole recording, but I hoped I would. The last thing I needed was to sniffle through the show. I packed my bag with Kleenex and cough drops, just in case.

Despite the crazy rush-hour traffic, I made it to the station at 8:30—just before John. We walked in together, found our usual spot in the back of the building, and did a little rehearsing. At around 9, we hit the studio. We were eventually joined by Clay, our director, who had accidentally over-slept (but I’ll let it slide this time, since he just had surgery and all…).

Since the last time I was in the studio, there’s been a software change—so it took a little while to get everything set up. Then it was time for the recording to begin. After a couple of false starts, our final recording went rather smoothly—except for the part when John suddenly realized he’d lost some of his notes. It resulted in a little bit of paper-rustling (to be cut out later), during which time I was able to get in a few good, solid coughs. So I’m glad John lost his notes—because it helped me make it through the show.

Due to the whole new-software issue, this week’s recording session took longer than usual. Typically, we’re there from 8:30 to about 10. This time, it was closer to 11:30. During that time I found myself either squinting at the computer with John or laughing with Clay while John continued to squint at the computer by himself. But we finally get everything figured out—and we have a show: WCBE.org.

After we were finished in the studio, I went home and crashed on the couch for a while. But I couldn’t rest for too long—because I had a screening that night. Wednesday night was Lars and the Real Girl—and a flurry of emails in the afternoon showed that I was, most likely, the only one going. Not even my husband was joining me—since Wednesday is Hockey Night.

Despite the fact that it’s my job to watch movies—to go to the theater, take my seat, and take it all in with a critical eye, paying attention to writing and performances and things like that—it’s still strange to go to a movie alone. Before I started going to screenings, I used to do it every once in a while, when my husband was out of town. But it felt strange. And it still does. Even now, when I go to a screening, there’s always someone else there. My colleagues are my friends—and there are a bunch of them—so there’s always someone to sit with, someone to talk to before the movie starts, someone to whisper snide comments to during the movie, someone to share the experience with. But on Wednesday, it was just me. I hung out in the lobby by myself. I walked into the theater and took a seat near the back (so I could run out in case of one of those coughing fits I’d been having lately) by myself. As the crowd made their way in and climbed over me, the noise levels rose. And I pulled out my planner and wrote some notes, studied my schedule, copied my to-do list.

When you think about it, going to a movie shouldn’t really be a social thing. You sit there in the dark, paying attention to what’s going on on-screen. You’re not talking to the people around you. It should be something you do by yourself, don’t you think? But it isn’t, usually. People like to have friends around them as they wait. And people like to have someone to share the experience with. Even though we’re not conversing together in the dark, we’re communing.

This time, it was just me. Alone. In the dark. With strangers.

The screening was at the old theater in the rich part of town—the one with the chatty old moviegoers. Lots of pepperpots. And this time was no different from the others. Even when the movie started playing, the crowd chattered on, barely noticing. And there were frequent exclamations pop-corning up throughout the theater during the movie. And I didn’t have anyone to snicker about it with me. But, hey… Sometimes that just goes with the job. And though it was a little strange, don’t worry…I did okay. I didn’t feel sad or lonely. I didn’t cry. And I actually enjoyed the movie. So it was all good.

On Thursday morning, I was back to the theater for a last-minute morning screening of Wristcutters: A Love Story. We’d found out late on Wednesday afternoon. I almost didn’t go—but I figured it was my penance for skipping two evening screenings that week. And besides, it fit into my schedule. And, most importantly, it was short. So I went.

It was quiet at the theater on Thursday morning. I was the second one there, and only two showed up after I did. Oh, well. More cookies for me, I guess. Though it doesn’t feel quite as strange sitting by myself for morning screenings, I was glad to have Jason there with me. Because after Wednesday night, it was nice to have someone to talk shop with—and someone to giggle with during the movie. It made me feel better.

On Thursday night, it was another almost-lonely night at the movies. This time, my husband went along—but everyone else seemed to have some excuse. Most of them had already seen The Darjeeling Limited while we were in Dallas. And those who hadn’t were at home watching baseball. So it was another strange night. Usually, for evening screenings, we reserve our row. There are usually at least a few of us there. So showing up for a screening with just the two of us—and having to find seats for just the two of us—was weird. It’s not that I don’t like hanging out with my husband or anything, but I haven’t seen the rest of the guys in ages, and I actually kinda miss them a little bit.

Not only that, but I was also eager to wish the guys a Happy Awards Season. On Thursday afternoon, the first of the award screeners showed up in my mailbox—followed closely by another one today. This means that the insanity has officially begun. It’s time to set aside the remaining screeners from last awards season—the few that I didn’t get the time to see, though I really did intend to—to make way for this season’s screeners. Hopefully, something good is on its way—because our top-ten lists are still pretty sparse.

Howdy, Ya’ll!

2007-10-12T10:15:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
We Own the Night
The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
Michael Clayton
The Heartbreak Kid

Word has it that the weather back home is cold and nasty—but here in The Big D, it couldn’t be more beautiful. The sun is shining off the hotel pool, and it’s warm enough for shorts. If it weren’t for the giant mutant grasshoppers around here (and the fact that if I stayed too long, I’d become morbidly obese from all the great food), I may never leave.

So we’ve been in Dallas since Wednesday night—when my husband had to fly in for a couple of days of meetings. That means that there wasn’t a lot of time for screenings (though I’ve been scheduling regular screenings in my hotel room, complete with muffins and coffee). In fact, the only screening that I was able to make it to this week was on Tuesday night, when I went to see Elizabeth: The Golden Age. Despite all the nasty things that have been said about the movie, I didn’t hate it—though I did almost hate Clive Owen (by way of his two-timing jerk of a character) by the time it was over, and that’s no good. But Cate Blanchett is brilliant, so that makes up for it.

Since I don’t have a lot to report in the critic world, though, how about I tell you about my experience in Dallas?

We got here on Wednesday night—in time to get ourselves into our rental car, check into our not-as-nice-as-the-pictures hotel, and head out for dinner. We went to a place called Pappa’s Bar-B-Q, where I was served what appeared to be a flock of chickens drenched in sauce, served with two sides (I chose macaroni salad and pea salad) and bread. I also got an approximately half-gallon glass of lemonade, and we ordered a slice of carrot cake the size of my head. I felt like I was six again—or like I’d somehow shrunk on the flight. They’re not kidding when they say that everything in Texas is big. And that goes double for the insects. The giant mutant grasshopper managed to find its way onto my lap while I was eating, and it scared the living crap out of me.

Yesterday, I dropped my husband off at his office before fighting my way through rush-hour traffic and finding my way back to the hotel. I will say one thing for the hotel—they do a good breakfast. That, and they have free wireless, which makes my life easier. After I got back, I decided to head down to the breakfast room to do some work while allowing the housekeeping staff some time to clean my room. I was there for about two hours and went back to find that my room hadn’t been cleaned yet. So I hung out in the room for a bit, called my mom, and decided that I’d allow the cleaning staff more time by going out to the pool. There, I was ogled by the grounds keeping staff, who apparently had never seen a female at the pool before. I sat there feeling awkward for as long as I possibly could without completely frying, and then I figured it was safe to return to my room. The cleaning staff had still not been to my room, though they were hovering in the general vicinity. So I quickly took a shower, got a few things done, and headed down to the breakfast room again—to scribble out some reviews while watching CNN. There, I found myself in the middle of a very uncomfortable employee disciplinary meeting with some member of the staff who apparently wasn’t up to par.

After the meeting was over, and I felt I could safely return to my room (after about an hour and a half or so), I stopped by the vending machines for a Coke and some Bugles to go with the yogurt I’d snagged from the breakfast room. Great lunch, no?

The problem, however, was that I got up to my room, and it was still not clean. The maid was across the hall, though, so I figured I’d give her a little while longer—so I went back to the lobby, where I read for a while and ate my Bugles. Then I crossed my fingers and returned to my room.

When I got out of the elevator, there was no sign of a maid’s cart in the hallway, so I took that as a good sign. My room would be clean, right? Wrong. No maid in sight, and my room was still not clean. By this time, it was nearly 3, and I’d been wandering around the halls, exploring the laundry rooms and scoping out vending machines. I’d hung out by the pool, been ogled by the staff, gotten a little more burnt than I should have, and spent so much time in front of the TV in the breakfast room that I’d seen every single news story on CNN at least 12 times. I was tempted to give up and forget about getting my room cleaned, but the place was horrible. The shower leaked, so there was water all over the bathroom floor, and if nothing else, the place just needed a good airing out. For some reason, the air was on, but it just felt cold and humid in the room.

So I went down to the front desk. “Excuse me…would you happen to know when my room will be cleaned?” I asked, trying to keep from ripping the head off the poor girl behind the counter, since it clearly wasn’t her fault. She replied with a totally shocked look.

“Your room hasn’t been cleaned?” she asked.

“Nope.”

So she promised to get someone right up—and I returned to the breakfast room. Once again, I wasn’t alone. This time, there was an excitable guy with a laptop and a cell phone. Though I tried to give him space, I couldn’t avoid hearing some of his conversations—because he was very excitable. Apparently, he was trying to hire someone to start working full-time in Dallas on Monday on the show, Prison Break. Neat, huh? I don’t think he was hiring talent, though, so I figured I’d refrain from offering my services as a professionally trained actress (right, Clay?).

Finally, though, I got my room cleaned. It was then nearly 4—and I had a lot of work to catch up on. And my room was still as comfortable as a bog in August.

I had about two hours to work until I went to pick my husband up. We then went out to another Pappa’s restaurant—this time, Pappasito’s Cantina, where we had guacamole made right at our table (which reminded me of our honeymoon—and this amazing restaurant in Puerto Vallarta called Pipis). And I ate the best chicken enchiladas I have ever had, in my entire life. They were amazing. If you ever go there, you must have the salsa verde. It’s incredible.

When we waddled back in from dinner, I finally managed to get into the room (since our key-cards only occasionally work), and we found that one whole side of our room was power-less. That meant both bedside lights and the alarm clock. We called the front desk (twice) and were told that they’d get the maintenance guy to come out and fix it. By 10:30, we were exhausted, and we’d heard nothing from the maintenance guy (and we still had no power), so we gave up and went to bed.

So when we got up this morning (awakened by the alarm clock, which we’d had to move to the far side of the room), we still had no power in half our room, and we soon discovered that it was Cold Shower Day. And our room is getting more and more humid and bog-like by the hour. So right now, I’ve got the door ajar, and I’ve decided not to worry about the cleaning staff for a while. I’ve got stuff to do.

This afternoon, I’m planning to hold another screening. Last night, we had an evening screening, consisting of Bacardi Breezers and Planet Terror. Today, I’m thinking Whataburger takeout and Poltergeist. Feel free to join me. The screening starts at 2 pm Central time. Press sign-in will be required.

Cutting Out…And Catching Up

2007-10-05T14:08:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Seeker: The Dark is Rising
Across the Universe
The Jane Austen Book Club

This week, I ended up skipping more screenings than I attended.

Of course, that wasn’t my intention. I fully intended to go to all kinds of screenings this week—especially since I’ll be out of town for a couple of days, and I need to keep my schedule nice and full. But, well, sometimes other things happen.

The first screening of the week (to continue our Morning Screening Marathon) was on Monday morning: Rocket Science. I fully intended to see it. Really. But it was Monday morning—and Mondays are always crazy-busy for me. And I really, really, really didn’t want to leave the office. So, at 10:00, as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready to leave, I talked myself out of going. You don’t need this to fill your schedule, I told myself. The rest of the week was filled with either award hopefuls or big weekend releases—and, I’m afraid, in the craziness of this week’s schedule, the little-known indie lost out. Usually, I’m a big fan of indies—and I do all I can to help promote them a bit—but I just didn’t have the time this week.

Instead, I stayed in the office and edited an entire week’s worth of book reviews. I also finished a couple of reviews. And as I worked, the emails kept pouring in, scheduling more screenings for the week. In fact, by the time the day was over, we had the entire week packed with morning screenings. So I didn’t feel too bad about skipping one.

And when I got an email from David, telling me that Jason had hated the movie so much that he refused to write a review, I was ecstatic. Ha! I could have been sitting in a theater for most of the day, wasting my time—but I stayed back and actually got stuff done instead. Yea for me!

Tuesday morning, I headed to campus to see The Seeker: The Dark is Rising. Despite the scoffing of the various fanboys in our midst, I actually kinda liked it. Or at least I liked it enough that I didn’t regret showing up.

Afterwards, John and I went across the street to our new favorite smoothie place. John got some random juice that involved celery and beets (this coming from the guy who, last time we were there, was so afraid of ordering orange/carrot juice, that he asked the girl behind the counter if anyone had ever thrown up). I, on the other hand, got the best smoothie ever—strawberry, orange, peach, and watermelon. My only mistake was the extra boost of ginseng that I had them add—which almost killed me later that afternoon. (Note to self: no more ginseng smoothies.)

Wednesday, however, was not such a good day. Wednesday was a bonehead day. On Wednesday, there was a morning screening of Into the Wild on the schedule—it was one that was scheduled on Monday afternoon. I was totally excited to see it—mostly because some of my favorite musicians used to perform a song about Christopher McCandless.

Despite it being another busy morning, I made my way across town. I got a parking spot (yea!), though I was a little worried to see that I didn’t recognize any other cars there. I got inside and found the door locked—and no one was hanging out in the café next door, either. Needless to say, that freaked me out just a little bit. After a while, I ran into another critic, who was just as confused as I was. We stood around for a while and finally left in a huff, thinking that the screening had been cancelled and no one had bothered to let us know.

But I had a bad feeling about it. I checked my planner again—as I had before I left the office—and it told me that I was where I was supposed to be. Of course, there was one other possibility—which turned out to be the case. Apparently, I’d been so flustered on Monday afternoon that I’d failed to write down the correct location of the screening. So while everyone else was sitting at the theater on campus, enjoying the movie (or not, as I later discovered from Jason—who ended up sending emails through most of the screening), I was driving around the city in a very foul mood.

In all of my crankiness, I returned to my office, determined to make up for the missed screening. And I cranked out a movie review and two book reviews that afternoon. And I felt a little bit better.

That night, there was another screening on the schedule. Actually, two—both for The Heartbreak Kid. One (the one that Bill and I had passes for) was downtown. The other was at our very favorite, much-closer-to-home theater. So Bill and I decided to get into our favorite theater by acting like we knew exactly what we were doing. And it worked. I got there as the crowd was still waiting, and the reps sent me right in. They told me that Bill was already there, but as I walked into the gigantic theater—which was still in full darkness—I couldn’t see anybody in the theater. But then I saw a head pop up from our usual part of the theater. Bill.

I took my seat, and we got caught up on all the latest critic gossip. I told him about my bonehead move of the morning, though he really didn’t feel too bad for me, since his day job keeps him from morning screenings. But he assured me that he’s not too worried about missing them—and I shouldn’t be, either—because with award season warming up, that means that the “For Your Consideration” screeners will start showing up any day now. Hopefully that means we’ll get to watch the screeners of all the stuff we’ve been missing.

After enduring Dane Cook’s Good Luck Chuck a couple of weeks ago, Bill and I were a little bit nervous about the Farrelly Brothers’ latest. But, actually, The Heartbreak Kid made me laugh. In fact, I laughed so much that I felt a little bit guilty. I actually stopped at one point and thought, Hold on…this is actually really funny! And that’s probably when I jinxed it. After that, Ben Stiller turned back into Crazy Ben Stiller, and the story completely drove off the rails. But, hey. It was nice while it lasted.

On Thursday morning, I actually showed up at the right place, at the right time, for the screening of Michael Clayton. In fact, I was just driving around the neighborhood, trying to find a parking space (since the lot was empty) when I got a call from David.

“I’m in the right place, right?” he asked. Apparently, my recent mental breakdown—and the fact that he got to the screening before John did—made him a little nervous. But I assured him that I was in the area—and as soon as I made the mile-long walk from my car, I’d be there.

As the usual gang gathered for the screening, the big topic of the morning was, “So…are you going to the screening tomorrow?” The Friday morning screening this week was Lust, Caution, Ang Lee’s porno-art film. Earlier in the week, I was totally planning to go—just out of curiosity. But then I found out that it’s 2 hours and 40 minutes long—and I changed my mind. But I wasn’t the only one. It turned out that only Neil was determined to show up. The rest of us were going with the old, “I’ll watch it when we get the screener” excuse.

After Thursday morning’s so-so movie, a bunch of us stood around and had the discussion that we critics tend to start having an awful lot around this time of the year: the year-end discussion. It started as we were all discussing how underwhelmed we were by Michael Clayton (I, for one, had to fight to stay awake—though it could have something to do with the fact that I hadn’t had any caffeine, since I was trying to detox, following the Ginseng Smoothie Debacle). That’s when David pointed out, “You know, I don’t even have enough to come up with a decent top 10 list for this year.”

“Well,” Jason pointed out, “your top 10 is your top 10.”

“Yeah, but there’s stuff on there that I don’t feel deserves to be on there,” David explained.

And with that, we all started discussing the movies of worth that have come out so far this year. The list was pretty slim. So far, we agreed on The King of Kong and Hot Fuzz. Jason mentioned The Kingdom, and our resident fanboy Neil mentioned Transformers, which made the rest of us laugh just a little bit. After that, it was pretty thin. Of course, we’ve still got almost three months until the end of the year, but it’s not looking good right now. None of the movies getting the biggest Oscar hype have really blown us away. There are 12 more Fridays to go before the end of the year. There could be something mind-blowing in there. I hope so.

I had another screening planned for Thursday night: Dan in Real Life. But, to be perfectly honest, despite the fact that I’d been skipping/missing screenings left and right all week, I had to agree with Jason. I was feeling burnt out. And as I scarfed down another dinner and rushed toward the door, my husband (who is brilliant) stopped me and said, “Are you sure you really want to go tonight? You look kinda frantic.”

And he was right. What I really needed was a night to sit on my butt and watch TV. I needed to go for a walk and enjoy Al Gore’s Global Warming. I needed to crack open a Woodchuck and drink to America’s Next Top Model. And that’s exactly what I did.

So far, next week is a quiet week. The only morning screening on the schedule is on Thursday—when I’ll be out of town. The only thing I’ll be in town for is on Tuesday night. But, then again, it’s only 2:00. That leaves plenty of time for the reps to schedule screenings for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning—and it wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Everybody Needs a Cause

2007-09-28T16:55:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Kingdom
Eastern Promises
Good Luck Chuck
In the Valley of Elah

It seems like there are a million causes out there to support—each with its own color-coordinated ribbon.

Well, now there’s one more.

Last week, after we all saw Good Luck Chuck, we all needed some serious recovery time. In fact, many of us skipped the Thursday night screening of Resident Evil just to stay home and try to drink away the memories of the things we saw on screen on Wednesday night. Kevin went so far as to call for an end to Dane Cook movies in his review: “Please Hollywood, do us a favor. No more Dane Cook! I think I’ll make a ribbon for this cause and start wearing it.”

After reading Kevin’s review, I decided that his anti-Dane Cook cause was one that I could definitely get behind, so I emailed him to tell him that I, too, would support his cause. Because nothing terrifies me more than the thought of having to sit through another Dane Cook movie. It’s almost as scary as the thought of having to sit through another M. Night Shyamalan movie.

So after a bit of discussion, we agreed that on a nice poop-brown color for the ribbons. Not only is poop-brown underused in cause ribbons, but we also figured it would be a nice color to represent our cause.

At Thursday’s screening of Gone Baby Gone, Kevin arrived with a fresh supply of poop-brown Stop Dane Cook ribbons to hand out. I immediately pinned mine to my sweatshirt. And I will wear it with pride.

Soon, you, too, will be able to get your very own poop-brown Stop Dane Cook ribbon. As soon as I find out how, I’ll be sure to let you know.

So anyway…on to the rest of the week’s adventures.

I only went to one evening screening this week—because we had so many morning screenings popping up. I had actually planned on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday night screenings—but then we ended up with Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning screenings, and I changed my mind. Sadly, The Rock’s new movie was dropped from my plans because of it. I may have to catch that one on DVD.

Tuesday night was The Kingdom. There was a screening about a month ago, but that was in the middle of the whole fallen tree / site outage / in-laws coming for the weekend fiasco, so I skipped it. The general reaction from the critics in the area was pretty positive, though, so I was looking forward to it—despite the fact that it was yet another movie about the Middle East.

The screening of The Kingdom took place back at the theater with the balcony. We don’t really get there all that often (the last time was for The Bourne Ultimatum), but it’s probably best that way—since the Balcony Brigade can get pretty crazy. Of course, that never stops us from sitting in the balcony anyway. And really, why should it? The seats are nice and cushy in the balcony. They’re roomy, and they’re leather. How could you not love that? So we’re usually willing to deal with a few annoyances in exchange for big, cushy seats.

This time, we walked in just as the previous movie was ending. And guess what it was. If you guessed Good Luck Chuck, you’d be correct. And, since the last part of Good Luck Chuck is some of the worst stuff in the whole horrible movie, it started our evening out on a very bad, very sickening foot. It did, however, help to promote Kevin’s new Stop Dane Cook movement.

For some reason, whenever we’re in the theater with the balcony, there’s some sort of a giveaway. Of course, these happen often at evening screenings—but usually, the people doing the giveaway don’t have a balcony full of people to consider. If you don’t give cheap, ugly one-size-fits-none T-shirts to the people in the balcony, they’ll get very angry. And if you do try to accommodate the Balcony Brigade, it means either having a really good throwing arm or the patience for the winners to walk all the way down from the balcony to claim their prize. Unfortunately, the people who do these giveaways have neither—so it always makes for an interesting evening.

Pre-screening giveaways always make us a little nervous—because giving people free movie tickets and free crappy T-shirts before the movie starts is like giving a five-year-old a bag of jellybeans before bedtime. Not a good idea. But, surprisingly, the Balcony Brigade calmed down by the time the movie started.

Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that we had to sit through almost a half hour of trailers before the movie could begin. I guess those trailers are good for something after all—besides seeing which movies Meryl Streep is releasing this year. Really—from the trailers we saw, you’d think that Meryl Streep was in 40% of all movies made. The other 60% go to Dane Cook. [Please…make it stop!]

So anyway, after one evening screening this week, the endless procession of daytime screenings began. Now, this is a good thing and a bad thing. On one hand, I don’t have to worry about scarfing down dinner and spending a whole ten minutes with my husband before rushing out to screenings every night of the week. It also means that we can watch in the comfort of our very own theater, with a cup of coffee—and without all those people who make loud, stupid comments in the middle of the movie. And at least we all turn off our cell phones. On the other hand, it means that I have to get my butt in gear in the morning to get a few things done before leaving at 10:15ish. Then I get back to the office at 1:30ish. Now, it’s cool to be able to hang out with the rest of the COFCA crew, but that’s three hours of normal catching-up-on-reviews-and-stuff time that I spend driving to the other side of town and watching some movie. So I guess what it all comes down to is that I actually need to work 13-hour days just to get everything done.

On Wednesday, I arrived for The Jane Austen Book Club—the first screening in our Morning Screening Marathon. There weren’t many of us there for that one. Go figure. Perhaps because there aren’t a lot of chick film critics. But Lori was there, and Joyce was there, and Margaret was there, and I was there. And I, for one, liked it, thank you very much.

What I didn’t like, however, was the fact that they’d removed the booths at the theater. We knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still didn’t make me happy. I loved pulling in each morning and sliding into my booth to chat and eat my cookie before the screening. I miss my booths.

On Thursday, we returned (and the crowd grew—and increased in testosterone levels) for Gone Baby Gone. There was a bit of confusion Thursday morning, though, since it was absolutely pouring on Thursday morning (to the point that people were driving 25 on the highway, which caused us all to reminisce about the time we all attended the Norbit screening despite the blizzard that had hit that day). And since the theater is pretty old, there was some leakage. Through the walls, actually. So we had to move from our regular theater—and not to the second largest theater, but to the teeniest, tiniest theater I’ve ever seen. There were—and I’m not even exaggerating here—six rows. And the screen was approximately the size of the screen that we had in our apartment, back when we used to have a projector for a TV. It was definitely the tiniest theater I’ve ever been in. But, well, it was just us, so I guess it didn’t really matter. It was just weird.

The crowd grew even larger for today’s screening of We Own the Night—which made for a fun Friday morning screening. We were even back into our old theater—which, I’m guessing, was cleared of its worst water damage.

The funny thing about today’s screening, though, was that there was a security guard. It always cracks me up when they have guards at press-only screenings. Do they honestly think that we’re going to be stupid enough to try to pirate movies at press screenings? But, hey, as today’s guard was quick to point out, we’re clearly used to the metal detectors. We know what he needs to check and what he needs to know. We know our cell phones have to be turned off.

After the screening, though, we still had one adventure left before calling it a week. This weekend is Oktoberfest here in C-town—and, according to tradition, if there’s a fest of some sort, John, Clay, and I head there for lunch on Friday. So today we walked to town to get ourselves German beer and some tasty cabbage and noodles (which, the surly German man assured us, was, in fact, German food). It was an absolutely gorgeous day for the walk—sunny and 70s. And I’ve gotta tell you—after a bowl of cabbage, half a cream puff, and a beer (all enjoyed at a nice sunny table in the middle of a beautiful, grassy park), it’s pretty tough to get back to work. But alas, I’ve gone to lots of screenings this week—so many, in fact, that I’ve barely had time to write about them. In fact, I still haven’t finished my review of yesterday’s movie. So it’s time to get to work.

It looks like next week will be more of the same. So far, we have daytime screenings on Monday and Tuesday (yes, that makes five in a row). And I just got an email that another one is in the works. And I’ve already got a couple of evening screenings planned. You’d think it was December or something….

Movie Reviewing Can Be Hazardous to Your Health

2007-09-21T11:57:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Sydney White
2 Days in Paris
The Brave One

There are some weeks when I love my job. And then there are other weeks, when I realize just how much of a pathetic loser I am. This week was the latter.

This week’s light screening load started on Tuesday morning. I rushed to the theater—running behind as always—realizing that I was absolutely starving already. That’s never a good sign, since morning screenings run well past lunchtime, and I was already starving at 10:30. That meant that I ended up sitting through a very long screening of Paul Haggis’s In the Valley of Elah, trying to muffle the sound of my growling stomach. I was unsuccessful.

Afterwards, I walked down the street with Clay to grab some lunch. And over a delicious salad (I know…I ate a salad, and John wasn’t even there to witness it!), we actually had the following exchange:

Clay: So what do you have planned for this fall?
Kristin: Well…nothing really beyond Thursday.
Clay: What’s Thursday?
Kristin: Um…we have a screening.
Clay: So that’s the extent of your life, huh?
Kristin: Pretty much.

Okay, so maybe that’s not the whole extent of my life. Looking ahead, I’m going to a hockey game in October. And I have tickets to see Spamalot in November. I also have approximately 10 screenings on my schedule so far—and there will be many, many more to come. So you can probably imagine that those little buggers tend to outnumber everything else.

So anyway…that night, we had another screening. It was an early one, so I had to gulp down dinner and race out the door. I wasn’t even out of the neighborhood before the fuel light went on in my car. I tried to decide if I’d have enough gas to make it to the theater, but then I realized it would just mean trying to find a gas station after the screening, when, most likely, I’d just want to go home and crash. So I decided to take a couple extra minutes to stop on the way. The problem, however, was that getting gas on the way meant that I couldn’t take my extra-speedy back roads—and after my tank was full and my car was happy, I pulled out into bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Realizing that I could possibly show up at the theater after they’d let in the riff-raff, I called David (who wasn’t actually going to the screening) to ask him to call Jason (who was) for me and ask him to save me a seat. While we were talking, David told me to put in the comedy CD he’d handed me that morning. And I’m so glad I did. By the time I got to the theater, I wasn’t quite so angry anymore.

But then, just as I was walking through the parking lot to the theater, it hit me: I’m a grown woman, and I’m walking into a movie theater by myself on a beautiful Tuesday night—to see an Amanda Bynes movie. How pathetic am I?

Of course, it could have been worse. I could have been one of the grown men who joined me at the theater that night. And, fortunately, Sydney White was actually quite entertaining. So that made me feel better.

On Wednesday night, however, we all sunk to the deepest depths of pathetic-ness. By 6:45, I was once again back at the theater—this time, to see Good Luck Chuck. When I got there, there was already a line of people waiting to get in. That’s nothing new, really. There’s usually a line. But this time, the line was huge.

“Do all those people realize which movie’s playing tonight?” I asked. “I mean, it’s Dane Cook.”

And it got even crazier. We were in one of the hugest theaters available, and it was absolutely packed. The security guard kept coming in to tell everyone to squish into the middle of the row, to allow as many people as possible to get in. The rep even came up and made us move over, saying, “If the press aren’t already here, they’re just not getting a seat.” Yikes! Then again, I wouldn’t have wanted to show up late and have to fight the crowd that was actually gathered in the front of the theater, looking pathetic and begging for seats.

Really. I’m not kidding. People were that desperate to see Good Luck Chuck. I was tempted to tell one of those poor schmucks that I’d be willing to give up my seat for a price—and then I could have gone home and done something less pathetic with my evening. But alas. I stayed.

Before we could even see the movie, we had to endure the usual pre-screening giveaway. This time, they had a million T-shirts to give away, and people were flinging them all over the place. One of them bounced off my seat, just inches from smacking me in the head—so I decided I should probably pay a little more attention. I felt like I was at some crazy baseball game—one played with about 15 different balls, all at the same time, and if you didn’t pay attention, one could come from any direction and give you a concussion.

Finally, the lights dimmed, and the trailers rolled. We actually sat through a trailer for a movie called (and no, I’m not even kidding—look it up) Midnight Meat Train. That’s got to be the best movie title since Snakes on a Plane. And when I saw it, I laughed so hard, I almost fell out of my seat. Midnight Meat Train? Seriously?

All I can say is that I hope they screen that one at a theater that’s within walking distance of a bar with a good happy hour.

Unfortunately, the Midnight Meat Train trailer was probably the highlight of the entire night. Because the movie was astonishingly bad. In those 96 minutes, I saw things that I never, ever, in a million years, needed to see. Things involving Dan Fogler and a grapefruit. And I am forever traumatized. I never once had to cover my eyes during the screening of Apocalypto last December. I even watched those guys have their still-beating hearts cut out of their bodies. But I covered my eyes repeatedly throughout Good Luck Chuck. And if I could have simultaneously plugged my ears, I would have done that, too. When it was all over, one of the guys looked at me and said, “You look stunned.” And stunned I was. Stunned at the sheer badness of it all.

And after it was over, I went home and drank half a bottle of Pepto to try to calm that horrible feeling in my stomach. But I don’t know if Pepto is all that effective in curing disgust and revulsion.

So anyway…there were actually a couple of screenings scheduled for Thursday night, too—one was the new Resident Evil movie, and the other was that new movie starring The Rock. But after sitting through Good Luck Chuck on Wednesday, I decided that I really deserved a break. So I chose to stay home and watch bad reality TV instead—and it made me feel much better.

Underwater Singing—And Other Screening Catastrophes

2007-09-14T17:38:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The 11th Hour
In the Shadow of the Moon
The Brothers Solomon
Shoot ‘Em Up

This week was another slow screening week—but it was far from uneventful.

It all started right away on Monday. My husband was once again gone for a few days this week (Dallas this time), so I started the week on my own again. This is not a good thing, but it definitely makes me appreciate my husband even more—because it shows me what a mess my life would be if I didn’t have my structured engineer-type husband to keep things in order. But more on that later.

Anyway, we had a screening of The Brave One scheduled for Monday night. In my planner, I had it written down as 7:30—which meant that I’d be able to go to my kids’ knitting group in the afternoon and still have time to grab dinner at Wendy’s or something and get a little bit of work done before the screening. It’s a good thing that I checked my pass when I left the group at 6, though—because the pass said that the screening was at 7 instead of 7:30. So I dug a smushed SlimFast bar out of my bag (I keep them there for emergencies such as these—which reminds me…I need to restock) and called it dinner. I ate it in the car on the way to the theater, while talking on the phone to my mom…and then my husband…and then my mom… I swear I’m going to get myself killed doing that. But, fortunately, I made it through this week without incident.

I made it to the theater just as Bill was making his way through the parking lot (and right after our pal, Hazel, had made her way inside). Bill had just spent the weekend setting up his new computer—one that we’re all quite sure could launch missiles. I’ll be sure to be extra-nice to him from now on.

You never know what kind of a crowd you’re going to get when you go to a screening. Sometimes, they’re just fine. Sometimes, they’re filled with babies and people who can’t shut up—like Monday’s screening. Personally, I would think that if you’d gotten a free pass to a movie, you might be able to spring for a babysitter for your toddler (And hello! A movie about a woman who goes vigilante and starts shooting people? It’s not exactly a Disney movie, people.). But maybe that’s just me. Still, there were a bunch of babies at the screening—one or two of whom were gone before the first Michael Clayton trailer started (we got to see the trailer twice—but it still didn’t make any of us any more excited to see the movie).

So we were still left with a couple of babies—and one loud, crazy man who was sitting right behind the rather substantial row of critics. The guy felt it was his duty to add his own sound effects and shout out totally random comments at inappropriate times throughout the movie. At first, it was funny. A little bit. And then it just got irritating. At one point, after one totally random outburst, Jason looked at me and said, “Jeez, does this guy have Tourettes, or what?”

Finally, Kevin (who was way down on the other end of the row) had enough. And after yet another random outburst, he responded with, “Dude. You’re not funny.” Fortunately, that shut the guy up—though I was totally waiting for a brawl to break out. And I didn’t walk out into the parking lot with Kevin, either. Just in case.

On Tuesday, I’d been planning on heading to an evening screening of The Game Plan—but it had mysteriously disappeared from our schedule. There weren’t any other screenings scheduled for that night (no screenings on a Tuesday night—very strange). So I was left with a free night. A whole night free. I’m not used to those, and I really had no idea what I’d do with myself. Since my husband was still gone, I ended up working until 7. I would have worked later, actually, but I was getting hungry. (Did I even eat lunch on Tuesday afternoon? I have a feeling Tuesday’s lunch consisted of a cup of coffee…) So I ordered myself a giant bag of Chinese takeout and threw myself down on the couch, got out my chopsticks, and picked out one of the DVDs from the pile on the coffee table. After I finished my General Tso’s chicken and crab rangoons, I went back into the kitchen and cracked open a bottle of wine.

Now, I realize that my night was, by comparison, totally lame. I realize that most women, when faced with a husband-free night, would call up the girls and head to a bar. But (a) all my girls have babies. And (b) I was just too lazy to leave the house (other than to pick up my General Tso’s). I also realize that it’s pretty pathetic that I technically spent my night working. But just wait—it gets worse.

So after I finished my first DVD, I realized that it was only a little after 9. I picked up another screening from my pile and noticed it was only 96 minutes long. So I refilled my wine glass and settled in for a double feature.

Yes, I do realize that I’ve lost my mind.

I was interrupted once by a phone call from my husband in Dallas, after which I got out some ice cream and a spoon and had dessert while watching the end of Movie #2. By the time it ended, it was after 11, so I figured I’d call it a night. Although I usually stay up late and sleep in when I’m home alone, I knew that I needed to get up at the crack of dawn on Thursday—because I needed to be downtown at the station to record the radio show at 8:30—so I figured I’d better stick to a somewhat normal schedule.

The problem, however, was that I couldn’t sleep. Apparently, my brain isn’t used to sitting on the couch all night and then going to bed. It’s used to rushing through dinner, to the theater, through the screening, and then heading back home to take a few notes before hurrying off to bed and willing myself to sleep right now. My brain isn’t used to spending a whole night chilling out. Eventually, I stopped trying. I just got up and worked on a review until 2 and decided to try again. So much for getting to bed early.

Wednesday was, strangely, another free night—one that I once again spent attempting to get to bed on time, to no avail. I must say that Thursday morning’s 6:30 wake-up call came much to early. But I had a show to do, so I got my ass out of bed and grabbed a Coke for the road. The rush hour gods were smiling on me, and I even got to the studio early. I was all crazy and jittery and sleep-deprived, but I somehow made it through our recording. And you can listen to this week’s show at WCBE.org.

We made it out of the studio by about 10 and headed straight for the theater for our 11:00 screening. We had more than enough time to grab a cookie and a much-needed coffee. And as we sat and recapped the show, we found out that there was a bit of a glitch with the screening. Apparently, Eastern Promises is at some random aspect ratio that the theater didn’t actually have. Now, you’d think that a movie theater would be able to accommodate all the aspect ratios out there, but I guess you’d be wrong. We were told that they had to use a different lens, and they had to tape it off. So if the heads were cut off a bit, that wasn’t the director’s fault.

Lovely.

To add to the strange aspect-ratio thing, at one point, about a half hour or so into the movie (just when Viggo Mortensen and Vincent Cassel are hitting the brothel), it just cut out. And the lights went up. I started having flashbacks, back to last December, when about 2/3 of the way through The Pursuit of Happyness, the print was suddenly backwards and upside-down. After about an hour or so of sitting around, we got to watch the last part. Fortunately, though, we didn’t have to wait a whole hour this time—but we did get to sit and chat for a while before seeing the rest of the movie.

And it was more of the same today. When I was on the way to the screening, I got a call from David, who told me that the parking lot was already full, and he was driving around the streets, trying to find a spot. Now, it’s bad enough when there aren’t any spots left in the lot, but that happens often, since there are only about 20 spots to begin with. But now they’re doing work on the streets around the theater, too, so the street spots aren’t available, either. It means that we have to walk three or four blocks from our car to the theater. I’m all for exercise and all (and I realize that I should probably get a little more of it), but I really don’t want it forced upon me—especially not when I was running a bit behind to begin with, and it’s only ten minutes until the screening’s supposed to start. It’s a good thing morning screenings never start on time—because I still had enough time to down a cookie and grab some coffee before the screening started.

Today was Across the Universe, the Julie Taymor movie with all the Beatles songs. Now, if you were to think of the worst thing that could go wrong during a screening of a musical, what would that be? If you guessed “sound problems,” you’d be right—and that’s exactly what we got. At one point, most likely at the beginning of a new reel, the sound went all weird. Remember back in the days of cassette tapes, when the sound would go all wonky right before the player ate the tape? That’s what it sounded like—for about a third of the movie. Once the first wonky song began, Jason quipped, “Are they singing under water?” But that’s exactly what it sounded like. One of the guys even got up to complain, but it didn’t do any good. It was seriously annoying—and it caused much grumbling from the crowd of critics. For me, the worst of it was that it destroyed Bono’s song. And I love Bono. Screwing with Bono is just not right.

Okay. So clearly this week wasn’t the best of weeks for screenings. But hey—you win some, you lose some. I’m just going to cross my fingers and hope that next week is good enough to make up for this week.

Stay tuned to find out…

What Day Is It, Anyway?

2007-09-07T16:03:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
3:10 to Yuma

This whole holiday weekend thing always throws me off—and I’ve spent the whole week trying to figure out what day it is. But my planner tells me it’s Friday, so I’ll run with that.

This week was a short one, but we still managed to squeeze in three screenings. Tuesday night was another late-night screening. Those 9:00 screenings tend to be ridiculously exhausting, but what can I do? There was no other way to see Shoot ‘Em Up, and I absolutely love Clive Owen, so there was no way in heck I was skipping it.

Then again, my husband was away on business this week, which means that my schedule was way off anyway. I worked until 6:30, at which time I ran to the grocery store to pick up some husband’s-out-of-town necessities (microwave dinners and a pint of coffee Haagen-Dazs) before inhaling a Lean Cuisine pizza and some ice cream in front of the TV before racing out to the screening at 8.

I didn’t know what to expect from Shoot ‘Em Up, since Colin (a.k.a. McLovin) told me a few weeks ago that he didn’t like it. And that says a lot, coming from a guy who will admit to having a man crush on Clive Owen. But, having seen it, I have no idea what Colin didn’t like about it. In fact, it seems like it’s right up his alley—but hey, what do I know?

From the first shot of the movie—the close-up of dark, serious, tough-guy Owen…taking a big ol’ bite out of a carrot—I couldn’t help but love it. Sure, it’s unnecessarily violent, but that’s just part of the fun—that, and its all-out B-movie campiness. As I pointed out after the screening, it was like Crank—only good. It was definitely worth the late-night screening.

As soon as I got in the car, I scribbled down some notes. When I got home, I mixed myself a drink and prepared to write my review. Sure, it was late, but my husband was gone, so I had no reason to get to bed on time—because no one would be pulling my ass out of bed at 7. I had the best of intentions. I was going to crank out a draft and head to bed. But I ended up staring at my computer screen for an hour or two before giving up and calling it a night.

Though I’d set my alarm for 8:30, I woke up at 7:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep. So much for getting my 7 hours. For a while, I refused to get up. It wasn’t fair. But I couldn’t sleep, so I crawled out of bed, took a shower, and started brewing up the coffee.

I spent most of my day staring at my Shoot ‘Em Up review (or at least a blank screen that was supposed to be my Shoot ‘Em Up review (I did, however, have the movie’s title neatly typed in at the top of the page). There was, however, one nice thing about not being able to write my Shoot ‘Em Up review—while I was unable to write that particular review, I did manage to finish a book review that I’d been unable to write for the past week. So there’s that.

By the time I had to leave for Wednesday night’s screening, I still had little more than a few scribbles.

Wednesday night’s screening was The Brothers Solomon—a movie that we knew would be best after a few drinks. Fortunately, the movie was screening on campus, so we decided to meet up for happy hour before the screening. We were supposed to show up at 5:30, but I figured I’d leave a little early, so I could get a good table on the balcony. It’s a good thing I left as early as I did, though, because I ended up stuck in traffic. Why is it that people always decide to have accidents during rush hour? According to the sign on the highway, the accident was, conveniently, right at the exit I needed to take. So I ended up taking advantage of the fact that everyone was merging over to the left to avoid the lane closures, and I took an earlier exit. Of course, this was an exit I’d never taken before, so I’d have to figure out where I was and somehow make my way to campus.

On the bright side, I don’t live in Boston anymore. If that had happened in Boston, I would have been screwed. But this is Columbus. Columbus is based on the convenient Grid System. So if you know the direction you need to be in—and, better yet, if you know a few street names—you’re good to go.

God bless Columbus.

So I was late, but not verylate. When I got there, Jason was leisurely sipping his Coke and perusing the menu. And as soon as the waitress showed up, I wasted no time in ordering my $2 Long Island pitcher. It was hotter than Hades in a heatwave on Wednesday, but we sat outside anyway. It’s probably best that way—because it means we were alone, which means we couldn’t irritate any other customers. We could drink our pitchers in peace while trying to think of some movie—any movie—that we’re looking forward to seeing this fall. I came up with Sweeney Todd and…Sweeney Todd.

Kevin arrived after I did, but he still managed to suck down three pitchers of Long Island before we had to high tail it over to the theater. Since I had somehow forgotten to eat lunch that day, I figured one was enough for me (though I did help him out just a tiny bit with pitcher #3).

Sadly, however, no amount of alcohol could have prepared us for The Brothers Solomon. By about halfway through, I was begging Jason to kill me. By three-quarters through, I was curled up in my seat, begging the characters to shut up. Meanwhile, the guys ahead of us were busting a gut. They were laughing and stomping their feet. Clearly, they were way drunker than I was. But that’s just plain sad. Wanna know what else is sad? As Jason and I were walking into the parking garage, we heard a group of people talking about what we can only hope was some other movie. One of them said, “I’m so glad we went! So many people missed out because they thought it would be bad.”

Jason and I just looked at each other and shook our heads. It’s pretty sad that people are so starved for humor that they’ll even laugh at The Brothers Solomon. And, to name another fine example, Norbit.

Somebody did, however, get hit by a bus, so Kevin vowed to give it an extra star just for that.

There was, however, one [other] good thing about The Brothers Solomon. It was short. So I was home by about 9—early enough to take some notes before hitting the couch to watch Top Chef. Then I headed back to the office to stare at my Shoot ‘Em Up review before giving up and going to bed.

As of Thursday morning, I was officially Way Behind. My Shoot ‘Em Up review was halted at three paragraphs, and my Brothers Solomon review was nothing but notes. But I had to head out to see The 11th Hour at (you guessed it) 11. By that point in the week, I was pretty much staying alive via caffeine drip—but even that wasn’t enough to keep me coherent through Leo DiCaprio’s new Inconvenient Truth. I did manage to stay awake, but let me tell you—Leo didn’t make it easy for me. And that’s saying a lot, coming from someone who managed to stay awake through an entire semester of college astronomy.

After the screening, John and I took a walk down the road to Cosi for lunch. Since I figured I’d probably end up having nothing but coffee for lunch again on Thursday, it was a nice change. And it was the perfect day to sit outside and eat a salad.

After lunch, I spent the rest of the day in an unsuccessful attempt to finish anything. By the time I gave up at 7:30, I had a whole pile of unfinished reviews sitting on my computer. But I had laundry to do, and I was starving, so I just called it a day and went to watch a DVD or two instead.

Finally, last night, I figured out what I’m doing next week. For a while, I was planning to head to Toronto for the film festival. Then, for a while, I was thinking about ditching Toronto and heading to Dallas with my husband for a few days. Now, however, it looks like I’m going to be sticking around here, catching a bunch of screenings and getting up early on Thursday to head to the radio station.

Perhaps it was all of the indecision that was keeping me blocked—because I got up this morning, made myself some coffee, and got to work on finishing those three unfinished reviews, much to my great relief. I was tempted to take the rest of the day and just goof off to celebrate, but I still have seven others on my list of reviews that I was supposed to finish this week. Since it’s 4:00 now, I suppose I should get to work…

Everybody Loves a Holiday. Especially Me.

2007-09-04T15:13:00.000-04:00

New Reviews at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Exiled (Fong Juk)
Death Sentence
El Cantante
Balls of Fury
September Dawn
Resurrecting the Champ

After a wonderful long weekend on the beach, I’m tanned and happy and ready to face a new week. But first, let’s talk about last week, shall we?

We started the week with a Monday night screening—which meant I got to have a Slim Fast Bar dinner in the car, as I drove from my kids’ knitting group to the theater. We were all in rare form for a Monday, though. Or maybe we were all just excited about seeing Christopher Walken. But we were laughing to the point of tears before the movie even began. It could have had something to do with the attendance of both of our favorite regulars. Hazel is the crazy old lady who claims to be press—even though no one knows her. Somehow, though, she’s figured out how to get passes to all kinds of screenings—and then she shows up early with her very own made-up press badge, to harass the reps. There’s also Chester, the homeless guy—though we’re pretty sure he’s secretly a multi-millionaire, and his scruffy look is just a cover-up. But our giddiness on Monday night also had something to do with an absolutely brilliant idea that popped into our heads as we were waiting for the movie to begin. I can’t talk about it right now, but I’ll just say it’s brilliant. Really. Just trust me on this one.

After all the giggling before the movie, we couldn’t help but giggle through the movie—even though it wasn’t nearly as funny as some of us had hoped it would be. I, however, went into it with very low expectations (I expected nothing but a little bit of Christopher Walken hilarity). So I wasn’t disappointed.

We topped off a fun night with a post-screening outing to Champp’s (a restaurant that annoys John to no end, due to the extraneous P in its name). Since I didn’t have dinner, I inhaled some chicken fingers and a beer as we celebrated Bill’s new (and much better) job. The food was good and the beer was, too, but the company was the best of all.

After Monday’s screening, we had Tuesday off. Then came Wednesday, when we once again headed to the theater to see In the Shadow of the Moon. This time, we actually got to see it—and I’ve been recommending it to pretty much everyone ever since.

Thursday was the big day of controversy—but not because of the morning’s screening. We all knew we were going to see The King of Kong. There was just no skipping the documentary about competitive arcade gaming, as it relates to the arcade classic Donkey Kong. We’d all heard great things about it—and all those great things were right. It’s pretty troubling to see how important video game championships are to the guys in the movie—but the result is absolutely hilarious (in a totally sad but really, really funny way).

Thursday night, as you may recall from last week, was the night of the Great Back-to-Back Screening Challenge. As of Monday night, Kevin, Neil, and I were still talking about doing the double-header. I told Kevin that if he could procure a getaway vehicle to pick us up at the first theater and take us to the second, I’d be in. But no such vehicle was found—and Kevin decided to do his own kind of double feature, by going to the 9:00 screening of Death Sentence before catching the midnight showing of Halloween. The rest of us decided that Kevin has clearly picked up a crack habit, and we ended up choosing one or the other.

Since I wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rob Zombie’s remake of Halloween (which was screening at 7), I opted, along with David and Neil, for the 9:00 Death Sentence screening. I read a few of the guys’ reviews of Halloween today, and it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t miss anything there—but the payoff wasn’t all that great. Instead of skipping a really bad movie for a really good movie, I ended up skipping a really bad movie for a stupid movie. I got to see Kevin Bacon running like Mr. Bean. I got to see a totally unbelievable story and some painfully bad acting. On the bright side, I did not get to see Kevin Bacon’s butt. And I got to laugh quite a little bit. But when it was over, I just looked at David and said, “I am way too dedicated to my job.”

After the screening, we decided that we, the members of COFCA, really do need to get matching flasks, engraved with our logo. Does anybody know where we can get good (and cheap) customized flasks? Anybody?

Fortunately, there weren’t any screenings scheduled for Friday morning—because I had more than enough to keep me busy. Though I had every intention of staying up on Thursday night to crank out my review, it was nearly midnight by the time I got home, and I was tired, darnit. So I got up on Friday morning to write two movie reviews and edit a few book reviews (all of which had to be done before I left—because they were scheduled for publication over the weekend) before throwing some shorts and T-shirts and swimsuits into a bag and heading out the door for my parents’ cottage.

The weekend away was just what I needed. It was hot and sunny, and I spent the weekend either (a) eating, (b) in a chair on the beach, my face in a book, or (c) eating some more.

Fortunately, this week’s screening schedule isn’t an especially demanding one—so I may stay somewhat relaxed for part of the week. We do, however, have another 9:00 screening tonight, so I’d better load up on caffeinated beverages. And, while I’m at it, I think I’ll do a little flask shopping…

Racing Against the Clock

2007-08-31T12:02:00.000-04:00

I've been trying to fit everything in this morning -- two reviews to write, a few more to edit, lots of emails to send out, this week's blog entry to write -- before heading off to my parents' cottage for a few days. But it looks like time is running out -- so I'll have to post this week's entry when I get back.

Have a great holiday!

When It Rains…

2007-08-24T14:19:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Nanny Diaries
Death at a Funeral

You know how the old saying goes…. Well, it definitely poured here this week.

It started insanely enough, on Sunday, with a mad, frantic dash to furnish our basement with a futon (“a good futon,” said my husband) before the in-laws show up this weekend. But that part is a very, very long story, and this week’s story is long enough already. So anyway…just when we finally worked out a deal with the salesguy, snagging us a [good] futon with a few scratches and dents in the wood for a decent price…just as we were about to load it up in the car and take it home…that’s when the rain started.

Immediately following, we did a little more rushing—this time, over to The Cheap Theater to see Ocean’s Thirteen. We came racing in at the last minute (after lugging the futon through the house and dumping the parts in the basement), and I was a little worried that we might have to sit in the front row (as we did for Ocean’s Twelve), but, for some strange reason, when we walked into the getting-full theater, there were two wonderful back-row seats, just waiting for us. It was lovely. And when I sat down, I couldn’t believe my butt! The Cheap Theater got new seats! I was in cheap movie heaven! I only paid a buck to see the movie, and I even got a padded seat!

I’d have to say, though, that the padded seat was the highlight of the whole week. After that, it was all downhill.

So here’s what happened on Monday afternoon:

At around 2:30 or 3:00, things started to get really dark. Really, really dark. There was thunder and lightning. And there was a whole lot of wind. And then I heard this noise—a noise that sounded like a garbage can had fallen off the front steps of the house. Now, we don’t have a garbage can on our front steps, so I was starting to wonder if the Evil Neighbor Kids had dumped off something earlier in the day, while they were playing with their obnoxious BB guns in my front yard (seriously, I’m going to throttle the Evil Neighbor Kids someday). Curious, I walked to the living room and found that our tree had fallen down. Okay, so not the whole tree—but half of it, at least. A really big branch. Huge. And it was all over our yard—and in our neighbor’s driveway. So I called my husband and told him, and he said, “I’m on a call right now. Can I call you back?”

(Hello? Did I just mention that our tree just fell down? Am I not freaking out enough?)

So after he called back, he decided that it might be a good idea to come home an hour early. So while he packed up and drove home, I went through our paperwork, looking for our homeowner’s insurance policy and the phone number of our tree guy. By then, it had started raining.

So we called the tree guy, who said they’d be there around 6. I’m not sure which 6 they were talking about—on which day—because they never showed up. And my poor husband ended up braving the hurricane conditions and hacking up the tree enough for our neighbor to get in and out of her garage. Meanwhile, I went and got groceries, all the while thinking about buying a condo.

But wait. There’s more. While I was digging through paperwork and staring at the tree that was lying in our yard, I stopped to check my email and discovered that the site was down. Well, not down exactly. The hosting company had said that they were upgrading their software, so we might have some database problems for a while on Monday. Now, I’d already had those database problems on Monday morning, and I figured it was over. But here they were again. You could get to the site. You could see the skeleton, but you couldn’t get to any articles. I figured it would come back eventually (“Fifteen minutes!” the hosting company promised. They lied.). But it didn’t. In fact, it was down all night. When we tried to contact customer service, they said they had “specialists” who were “looking into it”—but it could be another 24 to 48 hours.

Brilliant.

So on Tuesday morning, I had a giant tree in my front yard and a site with no content. And I was pretty much ready to curl up in a ball and die. But, instead, I went to the screening of 3:10 to Yuma. When all else fails, go see a western, I guess.

Since the site was down, I thought about taking myself out for lunch afterwards, since I just didn’t want to look at that poor, naked site any longer. But I headed back—which is a good thing, since my husband’s network had gone down at work (I know…really weird, huh?), and he had set up shop in his office at home. He said the tree guys had been around, and they said the whole tree needed to go. He also called some other tree guy, who said he could take it down Wednesday morning at 7:30.

As for the site, nuthin’.

So, with a naked site and a tree still in our front yard, we figured we might as well just go to a movie. This time, Resurrecting the Champ. When we got there, I was a little surprised to find that no one was there. There was one other critic waiting to get in, and there were two people in line. Two. Usually, when I get to the screening, about 30-45 minutes before it starts, there’s a big, loud, angry mob, ready to throw things at me for not waiting in line. This time, there were two people.

Two.

When the rep let us in, there were seven of us in the film critic row, and that was about it. By 7:30, there were a couple more critics, and then there were about 10 other people. It was weird. As Jason said, they could have screened the movie in the break room at Wal-Mart, and we would have had plenty of room (and, as I pointed out, we could have gotten Sam’s Choice sodas for a quarter—maybe even a dime!).

So apparently, no one promoted the screening. Either that, or no one wanted to see it—even for free. Still, though, despite the empty theater, when one couple came in, they stopped in front of our row and stood there for a few minutes while they glared at the “Reserved for Press” signs on some of the seats. Really, people. There are 5,000 other seats in here—and you’re mad that you can’t have those two?

Fortunately, though, the movie wasn’t bad at all. And it helped me forget about my naked site and giant dying tree for just a couple of hours.

On Wednesday morning, 7:30 came and went, and there were no tree guys. But, on the bright side, my dear, sweet husband was able to figure out how to make some programming changes to get the site back up—or at least parts of it. So that was a start.

The tree guys finally showed up at around 3, and I was a little bit nervous when I noticed that one of the guys had a hook for an arm. I kid you not. There was a hook. And this was one of the guys who was going to be using a chainsaw in my front yard. Clearly, he’s not so good with a chainsaw. Why would I want him giving it another shot in my yard? So I went into the basement, where I wouldn’t have to see the blood.

Fortunately, though, there was no blood and no screaming. And, a couple of hours later, there was no tree. It looks really weird. And it’s ridiculously bright in our living room—so I’ve taken to keeping the curtains closed.

So anyway…we still had one little problem: the site. Try as we might, we couldn’t get the thing fixed, which meant another long, frustrating conversation with a clueless customer service rep. Let’s do the math here. The site was completely naked for 43 hours. Then it was partially naked for another 11 hours. That makes 54 hours without a fully functioning site. Now, I’m not going to go into the numbers here, but what it boils down it is a pretty serious loss in readers. (So if you were driven away earlier this week by a shamefully naked site, please go back. We’re fully clothed now, and we really want you to come back. Please. Thank you.) But it was Wednesday night, and we were finally working again.

Then came Thursday. I got up on Thursday morning, and the tree was gone, and the site was working. All was good and happy and sparkly in the world. And then I got to my computer, checked my email, and started getting to work, only to discover that my Internet connection had just gone and disconnected itself. This led to an hour of finagling, accompanied by a fair amount of bad words. And then, for no apparent reason, it just came back.

Just like that.

So I got back to work, putting together this week’s massive newsletter. I got everything ready to go, and I sent a test email to myself. And what happened?

Nothing.

I tried again.

Nothing.

I tried five times, and nothing ever showed up in my inbox. So I called my poor husband/webmaster in a panic, asking him if he could think of any possible reason why our mailing function would be broken. He couldn’t think of one reason. Not one. But since he couldn’t do anything about it, he said maybe I should just skip this week’s newsletter—an idea that I instantly rejected, since the site had been naked all week, and I desperately needed to tell people that we were still here. So then he told me that I might have to take my newsletter document and translate it into normal email format.

And that’s when I started to sob.

You see, my newsletter document is 17 pages of HTML code. I keep the format every week, and I update the information and send it out. That way, it doesn’t take a lot of work. I keep up with the links during the week, and it takes me an hour or so on Thursday morning to do all the audio links and the trailers and contests and things. I didn’t even know where to begin reformatting it—and even if I did, it would have taken me until next Feaselday. So I continued to sob.

That’s when my husband took pity on me and said he’d come and try to fix it if I would make him lunch. So I wandered off to make lunch.

Anyway…that whole thing brought about another hour’s worth of headaches—during which time I had to cut out a part of the newsletter because it was making the mailing function pissy, for some reason or another. But eventually, I got it sent out—and only 2 ½ hours late. Yea.

By this point, I had told myself not to even think that things couldn’t go any worse. Because they always can. Just ask Murphy.

Also by this point, I had decided that there was just no way I’d be going to the screening of The Kingdom. It’s too bad, since I was looking forward to seeing a movie so far in advance that I’d have time to actually put some thought into my review. But, if you recall, the in-laws were scheduled to arrive on Friday afternoon, and that meant that I needed to clean toilets and scrub floors and bake brownies for my bro-in-law.

I also needed a good stiff drink. Or three. My intention was to drink myself to sleep. Of course, that’s not what happened. What happened was I spent the night cleaning bathrooms and washing towels and things in preparation for guests. And I watched a couple of episodes of The Muppet Show. And I went to bed early.

When I got up this morning, I was really, really looking forward to this morning’s screening. It’s not that I was totally psyched about the movie or anything, it being a documentary. But I just couldn’t wait to get out of the house. Just to get out for a while and talk to someone else—someone who could talk to me about something other than hosting glitches and trees—would be wonderful. And, fortunately, the first person I saw when I walked up was John. And John is always happy to hang out and chat. To make things even better, he had brought his lovely friends from Washington.

On the downside, there was no screening. The print hadn’t shown up yet, and it wouldn’t be there for another hour. And it would be another half hour after that before the screening could start. So we ended up rescheduling the screening for next week—which was really no big deal, since the movie isn’t coming out for a few weeks anyway. And that left me with plenty of time to grab lunch with John & Co., which was absolutely wonderful (both the food and the company). It also means that I have one less movie review to write this afternoon, which gives me the time for one more music review. So it all works out in the end.

Next week is another relatively quiet week, screening-wise (or at least it’s supposed to be). We’ve got Wednesday and Thursday morning and Monday and Thursday night. The problem, though, is Thursday night. On Thursday night, we have two screenings scheduled. Instead of scheduling them for the same time, the reps scheduled one for 7 and the other for 9—giving us the illusion that we could actually do both. There are, however, two problems:

1) The first movie is 110 minutes long.
2) The screenings are at two different theaters.

While some of us see this as an impossibility—and have resigned themselves to seeing either one movie or the other—others of us see this as a challenge. So here’s the scenario that Kevin has set up for us:

Okay, so we get out of the one movie at 8:50. Since the parking situation at that theater is a nightmare, and we’d never even be able to get out of the garage by 9, we’d have to have someone pick us up. In a van. And bring us to the second screening at the second theater. We might be a little bit late, of course, so we’d have to talk the rep into telling the crowd that the print was late, and that the movie will be starting just 15 minutes late. And that’s how we could make it work.

Personally, I love a good challenge. And if someone has a van and a willing driver, I’d be all over that plan. I’ve done the two-theater back-to-back double-feature before. And though it was totally insane then, too (in fact, I think it may have been last Labor Day weekend, too—since I’m pretty sure I had to get up the next morning and drive the six hours to my parents’ cottage…), I’d definitely do it again. So find me a getaway van, and I’m in. Else, I guess I’ll just have to pick one or the other.

Tune in next week to see what happens…

Shhhh…!

2007-08-17T12:12:00.000-04:00

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Superbad
Stardust

Don’t tell, but I’m skipping a screening right now, as I write this. Clearly, the hot, humid weather of the last few weeks (not to mention the fact that it’s August—and very little of note comes out in August) has left me feeling a bit sluggish. Lazy. Indifferent, even. And maybe just the tiniest bit burnt out. And I just couldn’t force myself to leave the office this morning to go and see something heavy and dramatic.

Actually, I’m starting to understand why studios release nothing but bad comedies in August—because, really, that’s all I feel like watching right now. I don’t feel like watching something long and dramatic. Just hook me up with something light and silly (and preferably short), and I’m good. And, fortunately, that’s what I got this week.

It all started on Tuesday morning, with the press screening of The Nanny Diaries.

As you might recall, I was a bit concerned last week about our pal, Kevin Carr, who left for Comic-Con and never came back. Fortunately, though, he arrived at the screening on Tuesday morning—all in one piece and sans prison tattoo. He was, however, very, very tan, having just returned from a cruise. He had to explain the whole thing to us, since most of us are completely unfamiliar with the concept of “vacation.”

To celebrate Kevin’s safe return, we decided that a special happy hour was in order. Since several of us were planning on heading to a screening of Superbad on Tuesday evening—and since that screening just happened to be taking place on campus, which, of course, is saturated with college bars—we figured that we’d head to the screening a bit early.

By the time my husband and I showed up (admittedly quite late), Bill and Kevin had secured a table on the bar’s upper patio. Bill had a glass and a pitcher of beer in front of him (he informed us it was his second pitcher). And Kevin had a pitcher of Long Island Iced Tea with a straw in it.

“Look!” Kevin exclaimed as we sat down. “Two-dollar pitchers of Long Island! And they just bring it out with a straw!”

Since we were seeing Superbad that night, I figured it would probably be best if I drank as much as possible in the short amount of time remaining before the screening, so I immediately ordered my very own two-dollar pitcher (with a straw) and a couple of plates of appetizers.

Before we left the bar, Kevin managed to down a second pitcher (which, I swear, he drank in approximately 20 seconds). Then we carefully made our way down the stairs and across the sidewalk to the theater. Having just finished whole pitchers of drinks, we made a pitstop before heading into the theater and attempting to climb up the ridiculously uneven stairs to the seats that Jason and his girlfriend had saved for us.

As it turned out, I found myself wishing I’d had a second pitcher before the movie. Because while some of it was quite funny (especially anything involving McLovin), I wasn’t nearly drunk enough (and probably not nearly male enough) to find it absolutely, positively hilarious. The guy sitting next to my husband, on the other hand, was laughing so hard that, looking back, I wonder if, perhaps, he wasn’t laughing at all. Perhaps it was a seizure. Maybe we should have called 911.

Wednesday night’s screening, however, was more my style—and I hadn’t even been drinking. But Frank Oz’s new movie, Death at a Funeral is hilarious. And, clearly, it’s funny for viewers of all ages—because the senior citizens that made up the crowd at the screening seemed to love it just as much as I did.

Wednesday’s screening was held at a theater that rarely hosts evening screenings. And it’s probably just best that way. The last time I was there for an evening screening was back in December. It was my last screening of the month before leaving town for the holidays, and I made my way into a lobby that was packed with Red Hat Ladies, who multiplied by the minute, and who had obviously never been taught that (a) it’s not polite to shove people out of the way and (b) when you go inside the theater, it’s not polite to yell at your friends, who are seated on the other side of the theater.

This week’s screening wasn’t packed with Red Hat Ladies, though—or at least if they were Red Hat Ladies, they were incognito. But since the theater is in an older, wealthier part of town, the crowd was old. Very old. But if they were rich, they clearly weren’t refined, well-mannered, rich old people. They were loud. And pushy. And when they were let into the theater and took their seats around Neil, Kevin, and I, they got even louder. And pushier. And once the movie started, they seemed to get louder still.

We were clearly surrounded by Pepperpots. They reacted (loudly) to everything that took place in the trailers and in the movie. When the opening credits began, one woman behind us announced, for the whole theater to hear, “This is our movie now. It’s not another preview.”

They were, however, absolutely fascinated by the opening credits, which consist of a simple animation of a coffin traveling along a map. Occasionally, it would make a wrong turn, and it would then turn around and go back. It also went around roundabouts. To the Pepperpots, this was all wildly entertaining.

“They could have just done the whole movie this way, and these people would have loved it,” Neil pointed out to me.

As the movie continued, not only did we have to endure the constant chatter of the Pepper Pots (which, admittedly, gave us a near fatal case of the giggles), but I can’t even tell you how many times we were interrupted by the ringing of cell phones (if only those big guys with the night-vision goggles had been there!). There was also the guy behind us, who had some horrible illness, and who spent the majority of the film honking his schnozz into what sounded like a paper bag. All in all, it was so loud in that theater that I missed large portions of the dialogue. But the audience seemed to find it absolutely hilarious, so it must have been funny, right?

Really, you’d think that such a refined part of town would make for a refined crowd. But when it all comes down to it, I rank them second on the Obnoxious Scale—because they’re still slightly less obnoxious than the Balcony Brigade.

Other than this morning’s screening, that was it for the week. Things have been eerily quiet lately. We’ve had a few screenings—but lately, all the biggest releases haven’t been screening. This week, for instance, we saw Superbad and Death at a Funeral, but we didn’t get to see The Invasion or The Last Legion. If this continues, we may have to start doing what Kevin and Neil did on their show right before Kevin went on vacation: psychic reviews. We’re just going to have to start writing our reviews based on what we guess the movie is going to be like. Just for the record, I psychically give The Invasion a D+. And The Last Legion gets…a C+ (mostly just because Colin Firth is in it).

Next week is another ridiculously slow week. Apparently, there’s a screening on Tuesday—because I got a pass for it, even though it isn’t on any of our schedules. There’s also a screening on Thursday night—for a movie that doesn’t come out until late next month. And there’s an obscure documentary (I think that’s what it is) screening on Friday. But I guess that’s okay. It’ll give me time to catch up on the pile of DVDs that showed up yesterday morning…