Rodent Drama

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.

Underwater Singing—And Other Screening Catastrophes

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…