When getting ready to go out, some people deliberate on outfits or restaurants. In our house hours are spent trying to decide what movie to go see.
There are many things to consider: some movies are meant for the big screen, with their long action sequences or cutting-edge special effects. Though if they weren’t reviewed positively (as Alexander was not), the movie loses must-see-on-big-screen points.
Then there are movies that are “Oscar-worthy” (such as Ray). Sure, you could wait to see them on video, but you want to see them while the buzz is still hot (as I did with Fahrenheit 911).
Then there are the well-reviewed independent and foreign flicks (Motorcycle Diaries, Maria Full of Grace). Women would go with their women friends in a second to see them, but any woman in a heterosexual couple who has fallen into the rut of seeing movies solely with their significant other has to wait to see these on video, as these films have neither the special effects, battle scenes, nor or the buzz factor, and they typically play in charming-but-old theaters where there’s no Surround Sound and the seats don’t rock. These films tend to end up 50th in the Netflix cue (you put them up at the top, but they were somehow displaced by the man sharing your account, who placed films such as Hellboy and Highlander III in their place.
Then there are those date movies probably not worth a movie ticket, but they don’t offend anyone or make inappropriate innuendos of what may be expected to happen after the film. They are not emotionally moving enough to induce uncontrollable tears or anything that might embarrass anyone once the lights come on. They are not so evocative as to cause heated discussion in the car. They are sweet and forgettable and only memorable if the relationship with the person who took you to the film blossoms into something more; then it is cast in a sepia-tinged fondness beyond its due.
Then there are those special occasions when other couples/singles/youth/mixed company are involved and the result is seeing a movie that is middling in all areas but considered the least of the evils. For example, I was out on the East Coast recently visiting my sister and brother-in-law and in the local Blockbuster looking for that elusive film that fulfils everyone. They had already seen the hit new releases; so I picked a quirky indie release, Saved. My brother-in-law thought it was too sleepy for him and opted for a forgettable action flick, to my sister’s disapproval. We settled on a movie that we’d all heard of that had some action and some historical intrigue, Van Helsing, and we all suffered.
Another example: I recently took a teenaged girl that I’ve known since her childhood out to see a movie (I figured I’d never get her into a bar). In the past I’d taken her to G-rated films that I’d secretly wanted to see (Monsters Inc., Harry Potter, etc.), but now she was at an age where there simply was no crossover; i.e.: She wanted to see Seed of Chucky. Thinking I had found a middle ground, I took her to see Polar Express (I didn’t know what it was about, but it had Tom Hanks in it, so it had to be good). Minutes into the film I could see that I’d grossly miscalculated. Sure, the animation effects were kind of neat, but unless your teen has some issues believing in Santa that you want to adjust, it’s not quite up their alley.
From a monetary perspective, we didn’t suffer as much renting the wrong movie as we did going to a theater to see the wrong movie—we suffered 75% less, to be exact. And that’s what makes movie nights in our house seem like an exercise in options trading—the analysis of risk vs. reward. Looking at movie picking this way I wonder why movie studios haven’t caught on to how their customers choose to spend their money and adjust accordingly.
Stay tuned for Jory’s unproven and, perhaps, erroneous business model for the movie studios (offered for free) in the next installment.
Comments