Feast or Famine

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

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…

Dreams and Nightmares

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.

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…

Running Four or Five Steps Behind

New at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Joshua
All the Boys Love Mandy Lane
I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry
Hairspray
Eagle Vs. Shark

Yikes! Is it Monday already? I am so ridiculously behind this week—and the week has only just begun.

Despite the plethora of screenings last week (all five of them), much of it was rather uneventful. So I’ll skip ahead to the good stuff.

On Thursday morning, I had to get up at the crack of 6:30 to get my butt over to the studio. John and Clay have recently decided to move their recording time from a totally acceptable 2:00 to a completely preposterous 9:00. If you ask me, I think they’re testing my dedication. To make matters worse, I opened my big mouth about having music to go along with our review of Hairspray, so that changed the time to 8:30. But I think I proved myself—not only by agreeing, without hesitation, to fill in when Clay went on vacation, but also by actually showing up at that ridiculous time of the morning.

So I had to get up extra early, try to find myself something other than cereal for breakfast (after all, milk is horrible for the vocal chords—and the last thing I needed was to be extra-phlegmy on the air), and head out to the studio sans coffee. It’s a good thing I left early, though—because with all the construction and the rush-hour traffic, it took me nearly 40 minutes to get into the city (which, in the end, made me not 10 minutes early as planned but about 2 minutes late—sorry, John!). But at least I’d been listening to the Hairspray soundtrack all the way there, belting out the lyrics and getting funny looks in the process. So at least I was awake. We managed to crank out the show without too many glitches (and most of those that we did encounter most likely had something to do with my mouth not being fully awake—guess I needed to do a little more singing on my way). But we managed to have a whole lot of fun at the same time. The result is over at WCBE.org. Feel free to check it out.

We finished at the station at around 10:15, and we headed right out to the theater for our Thursday morning screening of Talk to Me. We made it just in time to get ourselves coffee and a cookie and unwind a bit before it was time for the movie to start. No matter how tired I was though, I still had no problem paying attention. Don Cheadle is positively mesmerizing.

There had been some concern earlier in the week that we’d have to stick around on Thursday for two screenings—but, fortunately, Screening #2 was changed to Friday morning. So I got to head back to the office for a little while—not for long, though, since I had to screen Hot Rod at night. It was one crazy-ass day, and I couldn’t wait to get home and crash.

There was no sleeping in for me, though—because I had all kinds of catching up to do on Friday morning. Fortunately, the Hot Rod review was an easy one to write—and I was almost done by the time I headed out to see Becoming Jane on Friday morning. I made it to the theater on time and greeted the theater manager, who noted that we could probably all just move in, considering how often we’re there. Actually, I’m thinking about having my mail forwarded there. It makes sense, really. I could go through my mail while I’m waiting for the screening to begin, over my morning coffee. I’ll have to look into that…

So anyway, Becoming Jane was a Friday morning treat for me, since I was a female English major—and, thus, I have always been a huge Jane Austen fan. And then, if that weren’t enough of a treat for the day, after the screening, John and I headed downtown to partake of the Jazz and Ribs Festival.

Despite this being my third summer in Columbus, it was my first Jazz and Ribs Festival experience. During my first summer, I was working a part-time job—and I only found out about the festival while I was sitting at work on Saturday afternoon. I believe that was also the day that my husband spent in the emergency room. So there went that idea. And last summer, I was still in the early recovery stages after breaking a rib—and, well, I was much too drugged to appreciate ribs anyway. But John made sure I made it out this year—and it was really quite spectacular. We walked up and down, past all the huge booths, displaying dusty trophies and boasting of all their recognitions. We finally settled on Cowboys—John with his six ribs and me with a boneless rib sandwich, dripping in sauce. As we were standing there, waiting in line, though, we realized that Cowboys happened to be playing WCBE on their radio. So we decided to stick around and come back at 3:01, when we’d be on the air.

Those of you who have read about my Friday lunch adventures with my foodie pal, John, may be shocked to hear that I had him out there, eating ribs. To be honest, I was a bit amazed myself. But Jazz and Ribs is John’s favorite time of the year. And even John will partake of the piles and piles of saucy meat. He did, however, draw the line at the elephant ears that I suggested (Actually, when I mentioned it, he called me trash—so I figured I wouldn’t say anything about the deep-fried Twinkies. But I know that if Clay hadn’t been hiding away in some mountain retreat, that he would have been all over the deep-fried desserts with me.).

We made it back to Cowboys at about 2:55. The radio’s reception wasn’t the best, and John almost got himself pummeled by a very large man in a cowboy hat—so we decided we’d happily put up with a little static, in exchange for listening to our show in one piece. And then, after a few sleepy minutes of Garrison Keillor, it was time for “It’s Movie Time.” John and I were both quite impressed with ourselves, standing there in the middle of a huge crowd, listening to ourselves on the radio. Granted, we were the only ones paying attention to the show—except, perhaps, for the nice ladies at the lemonade stand, who seemed quite impressed to be in the company of such celebrity (though they didn’t ask for our autographs, strangely enough). But at least John and I were impressed. And, well, it’s a pretty cool feeling, listening to yourself on the radio in the middle of such a huge crowd (even if you're the only ones listening).

And with that, John and I wandered back, standing a little bit taller, our stride a tad more confident.

So now, here we are already—Monday night. I just barely made it to the screening this morning, after trying to get just one more thing done before leaving. And now I’m officially seven reviews behind. I suppose I should get back to work…

The Calm Before the Storm

New Reviews on NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
The Ex
Provoked
Black Book (Zwartboek)
Waitress
Lucky You

I know that the Summer Blockbuster Storm is coming. I can feel it. It’s like a shadow, hanging over my shoulder. I remember last summer. It was insane. And it’s looming in the not-so-distant future. But for the next couple of weeks…nothing. This week, there were four scheduled—though I only went to three. Next week, one. The week after that, we’ll have two (though only one has been scheduled so far). I figure I’ll try to take that opportunity to get nearly caught up on things. Wouldn’t that be fun?

This week started with a Monday noon screening. In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I hate Monday screenings. I’m busy on Monday. I always have a humdinger of a to-do list on Monday. And Monday screenings don’t help my stress levels. This week, we actually had two Monday screenings scheduled—one at noon, and another at 7. And I knew that there was no way I’d pull them both off. At least the noon screening gave me an extra hour in the morning, but screenings from 12-2 and 7-9? I don’t think so. That pretty much would have meant loading up my car at 11, going from the screening to a coffee shop for a while until I headed over to my afternoon kids’ knitting group from 4-6, and then eating a SlimFast bar for dinner in the car on the way to the other screening. So I just went to see The Ex at noon and called it a day.

For some reason, there were members of the public invited to our noon screening. Only about six actually came, two of whom sat right behind me. Halfway through the movie, the girl behind me couldn’t stay quiet any longer. I don’t know if she was having a one-sided conversation with her companion or if she decided to make a mid-movie emergency call to a friend, but at one point in her conversation, I heard her say—in the loudest whisper possible—“I can’t hear you!”

Um, but the whole theater can hear you, sweetheart. Take it outside.

Other than Chatty Cathy behind us, though, the movie was generally amusing. And it ended with a fabulous Kevin Carr Ending (meaning that someone—usually an irritating character—is blown up, hit by a bus, or subjected to something equally nasty), so we all walked out feeling cheery.

Speaking of Kevin Carr Endings, 28 Weeks Later couldn’t be more jam-packed with them. In fact, pretty much everyone in that movie comes to some kind of a Kevin Carr Ending—usually in the bloodiest, most gruesome of ways, involving eyeball poking and/or blood vomiting. And that’s what we saw on Tuesday night. After it was over, a group of us stood in the theater, discussing our reactions.

One of the guys said, “I’m not quite sure how I feel about that.”

My reaction: “I think I need to go home and throw up now.”

These are the difficult times for a film critic. 28 Weeks Later isn’t necessarily my kind of movie. I can handle a little gore—but a whole movie full of it can get to be a little much for me. There were times when I had to close my eyes for a couple of seconds, just to settle my stomach. So the Going-To-Movies-For-Fun me probably wouldn’t have been all that thrilled walking out of that movie. But the Film-Critic me had to take a step back and forget about my own personal tastes (and my own personal weak stomach) for a while—to appreciate that 28 Weeks Later, despite the unpleasant feeling it caused in my stomach, is actually pretty good. For the gory zombie flick that it is, it’s actually quite good. So while my stomach may not have liked it, my head thought it wasn’t all that bad.

But enough about zombies. Let’s talk about feisty old guys. On Thursday, I once again got to meet up with two of my favorite feisty old guys, John and Clay, and play guest critic on their radio show, It’s Movie Time. This week, though, I had to be there early—because they were taking promo photos for IMT and their upcoming show, Movie Time Classics, and they had graciously asked me to be a part of the picture, as an occasional part of their team.

Since I’m a girl, I spent the whole week fretting about what I’d wear. John is a tux kind of guy (though Clay told him he wasn’t allowed to pull out the tux this time), and Clay is not. I asked John what to wear, and he suggested, in great detail, an outfit involving a black pantsuit and a flowing white blouse. The thing is, I’m a film critic, and I work from home. Thus, my wardrobe does not include a pantsuit. Or even anything that could be referred to as a blouse. I went on a shopping trip on Wednesday and came back empty-handed and panicky, knowing that the black dress that John had approved would end up with Clay spending the next year harping about “Kristin and her fancy dress” right along with “John and his tux.” So, in the end, I brought my entire closet. I wore whatever I had on that morning, which ended up being white capris and the white tank I’d thrown on while doing my hair (a phrase that I use in the lightest sense, though it did involve pulling out the hairspray from the very back of my bathroom cupboard). And I packed a bag that included a blue T-shirt, for use during recording (since I know better than to expose any cleavage—again, a term I use in the loosest sense—for too long around Clay), the black dress, and a black button-down shirt, as I thought we were doing a black theme. I was wrong. We were doing no theme. As is often the case, I totally over-thought this one, and, in the end, was told, “Just wear what you’ve got on.” So I did, for better or for worse.

After the photo shoot (which produced a couple of great shots), we headed into the studio—so Clay could sit back and laugh his deep Santa-Claus laugh while John and I messed with each other on air. And good times were had by all. You can head over and give it a listen at WCBE.org.

While I wasn’t necessarily planning on going to this morning’s screening of Away From Her, John and Clay kept telling me how wonderful it was going to be. And I fell for it—despite the fact that watching a movie about someone progressing through the stages of Alzheimer’s isn’t exactly an easy thing for someone who watched a loved-one struggle with it for years. Not exactly a cheery way to spend a warm, sunny Friday morning—especially a warm, sunny Friday morning on which one has awoken with some nasty allergies. So when I got to the theater and saw that the tiny parking lot was full, I came close to seeing it as a sign. I almost turned around and drove back home. But I didn’t. I went. And it was a rough couple of hours—mostly because the movie is so real—but I made through. And I got to see an incredible performance by Julie Christie, so that was good, too.

And now, I get to take a little break from theaters. Next week is just Shrek. But, since we’ve all been dreading it for months, I’m sure it’ll be worth a few good stories on Friday…


This Week’s Film Critic Discussion Topics:

- Spider-Man, and how it totally didn’t deserve to make $150 million in one weekend. We’re all wondering how much those numbers will drop off this weekend, after people realize that it isn’t really that great. Jason, however, isn’t complaining, since it was his draft pick.

- Kevin was also quite proud to point out that the $2 million that Lucky You pulled in put him in second place in this season’s competition.

Fuzz and Film Festivals

New Reviews at NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Week:
Hot Fuzz
Everything’s Gone Green
Perfect Stranger

This week started with more of the confusion that’s become a pretty predictable part of our everyday lives. On Thursday, some (but not all) of us got an email about a Hot Fuzz screening on Monday morning. I hate Monday morning screenings, since Monday’s probably the busiest day of my week, but for Hot Fuzz, I was more than happy to drop everything and head over. The problem, however, was that I didn’t know where to head. Over the weekend, some (but not all) of us got another email, informing some (but not all) of us that the screening was at a different theater than the one indicated in the email that some (but not all) of us had gotten on Thursday. So no one really knew where we were supposed to be. Mark had to call the rep first thing on Monday morning to get the story straight—but even then, we weren’t quite sure. And John missed the usual pre-screening banter because he ended up at the wrong theater and had to rush to get to the right one.

There’s just nothing like a little mass confusion to get your week off and running, don’t you think?

Fortunately, though, Hot Fuzz was worth every minute of confusion. Edgar Wright may not have made it big with your average Joe Moviegoer yet, but many of my fellow COFCA critics (myself included) have been crazy with anticipation for months. Every time the trailer played before one of our screenings, we all giggled like schoolgirls trying on dresses for the prom. And we weren’t disappointed. It’s hilarious. After the screening, not a single one of us complained about having to drive out to a screening on Monday morning. We were all too busy basking in the afterglow.

On Tuesday, we gathered at our favorite theater for the screening of Anthony Hopkins’s latest, Fracture. Since we get there early to ensure that we all have good seats before the theater lets in the rest of the pass-holders, we usually have plenty of time to chat. Actually, many of us will admit that it’s often the best part of the whole evening. Sure, it’s cool that we get to see movies before they’re actually released. But sometimes the movies flat-out suck. Sometimes we would have much rather spent the evening at home, crashed out on the couch in front of the TV. But at least we have that time before the movie, when we can hang out with our fellow film geeks and discuss the movies we’ve seen, the movies we’re excited to see, and our box-office predictions. Sometimes, we even talk about non-movie stuff. Since our jobs often require us to sit in a dark theater just about every night of the week, those moments before and after screenings are the closest we often come to having a life.

So anyway, Tuesday was one of those days when the before-movie time was way better than the movie itself. Fracture was just one more in the long line of bland un-thrilling thrillers we’ve been subjected to of late. While watching it, I decided that I would definitely be skipping Wednesday night’s screening of Year of the Dog, the new Molly Shannon movie. If I’d liked Fracture maybe I would have been in a decent enough mood to deal with Molly Shannon’s same old crap. But Fracture drained me of my will to watch movies—and thus, a night with Molly Shannon probably would have made me violently angry. I know my limits.

After my Wednesday night off, though, I was back in full force on Thursday. This week, John and Clay asked me to make another guest appearance on their award-winning radio show “It’s Movie Time”—to add my two cents to this week’s review of In the Land of Women. Despite a few technical difficulties this week, it was yet another wild and crazy afternoon in the studio. I still remember how terrified I was the first time I went into the studio with the guys last summer—but now I love every minute of it. You wouldn’t believe how much work goes into that five-minute show (not the least of which is cutting a 550-word review down to 130 words or less), but I always look forward to my next chance to fight it out with the guys.

This week, the wonderful (and wonderfully patient) studio manager, Dan, pointed out how quickly I’ve managed to fit right in with John and Clay. I don’t think he necessarily meant that as a compliment, but I’m just going to take it as one anyway.

After we finished recording and producing the show, I had to rush back to the office to get a few things done before heading out again for opening night of the Deep Focus Film Festival. They have a reputation for getting some good stuff to screen on opening night (last year, they screened Brick)—and this year was no exception. The opener was Waitress, a light and tasty rom-com that satisfied even the tough guys in the crowd. After that, we headed down the street to the TBD Tavern, where the Grey Goose was flowing. John kept tracking down the waitresses, who brought by tray after tray of little tiny martini glasses (which, we soon discovered, spilled very, very easily), filled with various mixed beverages. It all brought back memories from Cleveland, when Mark, John, Clay, and I hit Hyde Park for the four-dollar-martini happy hour. John almost got himself into a film festival brawl after three martinis that night—so it’s a good thing that last night’s martini glasses were much tinier. Fortunately, there weren’t any brawls this time around.

But a good time was had by all. There was much drinking and much laughing and much spilled food. Film critics may be a messy crowd, but we definitely know how to have a good time.

The festival continues through the weekend, and I’ll be heading downtown to catch as much of it as possible. So if you happen to be in the Columbus area this weekend, be sure to head to the Arena Grand and check it out.


This Week’s Film Critic Discussion Topics:

1) The Grindhouse Split: Will it do any good to split the two parts and show them separately, or should the Weinsteins just accept the loss and move on?

2) Hot Fuzz: Will anyone actually see it in the theaters, or are we critics the only ones who know just how cool Edgar Wright is? And how long will it take before this one hits the discount theaters, so we can all see it over and over again?

3) The Fantasy Moguls Travesty: Will any of us still want to play next season if they change all the rules and take away all the fun?