Topic: Film…

Author: Chris Dunn

Watching the latest supers movie on my 4K Ultra HD, extra-chewy flat screen, I found myself wondering why I didn’t do this more often. The film was only a month out of the theaters and, rather than paying upwards of $50 – what with popcorns and drinks – why not just sit here in the comfort of my home and enjoy the picture with as many people as are around for a mere $5. I can get drinks out of my fridge, and my popcorn doesn’t cost $10 a bucket. The picture quality with and HD download is nearly exact, and the sound bar delivers everything but the chest-battering bass of good theater surround. Why do I waste the money? Why do I insist on buying the expensive concessions, when I can plainly see I’m being ripped off. “Oh, only a dollar more for a large, and it comes with a free refill I’ll never use. Well, I’d be a fool to pass that up.”

Long gone are the days when my mother would smuggle popcorn and sodas in her purse. We’d pop it ahead of time and then divvy it out in little baggies once the lights had dimmed. Wait until the loud music starts over the swirling-color intro to open the can of soda. Mom was really worried some of our seat neighbors would call the cinema police on us. Nowadays, I justify paying the exorbitant prices as supporting the venue. If you like the reclining seats and the wall high screens, pony up for the shake-on popcorn seasoning. Otherwise this place will fail like so many before it. And really, the price of the beer they now provide is on par with what you’d pay at a bar.

Further back, we would all pile in the car and drive the mile or so to the Mount Healthy Drive-in theater. That was an event! We would load up Debby, our ’65 Ford Mustang with the trunk painted white (another story), with all manner of snacks and sodas, find a working speaker to clip onto the window and crane our necks from the back seat for a double feature. “This time I’m going to stay up for both shows!” I’d declare, certain this time I was old enough for it to be true. Some people brought lawn chairs. Some people ran around outside their cars. I found out later, that some people just came to movie to make out! The worst thing was when the sodas would fill your bladder and you had to wander through the lot to the concession stand and use what amounted to a trough to relieve yourself, getting chastised for not going before the movie by whichever parent had to escort me, the random sights and foul smells, the choke of idling cars and the bite of the cool night air, all the while trying to follow the movie from the hushed snippets coming from other’s speakers as you passed. So many times, I fought as the cobwebs covered my eyes and the droning dialogue of whatever “adult” movie numbed my attention. What are they talking about now? Is it spies or divorce? I feigned interest. I fought sleep. But inevitably, I’d wake in my father’s arms being carried to bed, curse at being foiled yet again by the blandness of movies for parents – What the hell were they thinking?! – and then let my eyes fall again. Next time…

By the time I was old enough to stay awake through two whole movies, the drive-in was no longer a thing. We’d still have movie nights, but they involved schlepping out to Showcase Cinemas Springdale. The Northgate Mall movie plex had fallen out of favor, and only served as a place to dump us kids while mom shopped. She’d give us enough money for tickets and one large soda we had to share. The movies is where I learned to order my coke without ice. “It’s already cold enough and this way you get even more.” Sometimes things would get contentious with the cashiers who insisted they had to put ice in the cups, but it was always worth it to ask. Or better yet, get Bridgid to ask, she handled confrontation so much better than I did. Eventually, she would want to see different movies than Marty and I, but we’d make it work.

The drive in, the Hollywood, the Movies downtown, so many of the places I used to go are gone, replaced by mega complexes with better sound, bigger, clearer screens, and yet somehow the same old “butter-flavored” topping. Still, I go, once, maybe twice a month. I pony up the extra cash for 3D and IMAX. I shell out whatever they’re charging for popcorn with a rueful laugh, as if to say, “Is this what it takes to maintain these places?” Now every minivan is a rolling drive in. I can arrange devices around my living room for a slightly out of sync surround sound experience. I can DVR, and stream, and binge watch until the Fast and Furious cars fill my home theater with exhaust fumes. But, it’s not the same. And even though the mega complexes aren’t the same either, they’re still close. So I go. I pay up. And I almost never fall asleep.