One Crazy Night

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…

Pre-December Warm-Ups

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.