Those Lazy Days of Summer

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.

Snowstorms and Cancellations

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

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.