westernredcedar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
westernredcedar) wrote2007-07-11 01:34 am
westernredcedar) wrote2007-07-11 01:34 am
Entry tags:
Don't cry for me, flist
I just returned home from the midnight showing of OotP, but there are no spoilers in this post, because, surprisingly, I have not seen the film. Hmmm...how could that be? Read on.
Dateline: Columbia City Cinema, Seattle. Midnight.
Adorable 15-year-old girls are dressed to the nines for Harry. Haggard dads are drinking large Cokes. This intrepid reporter is alone, but sits next to the only other people in the theater even close to my age, a group of very friendly mid-twenties kids with lots of beautiful tattoos (one of whom has a striking resemblance to my image of Bill Weasley, but let's not dwell). The room is warm in the cozy, independently run cinema, but yours truly feels good about the choice to attend the midnight show here, rather than at the corporate mega-plex downtown.
We sit in the stifling heat for an hour as the last tickets are purchased, seats acquired. Someone sits down nearby with terrible foot odor, but this reporter is not fazed. The row of squealing girls to the back provides constant entertainment ("You know when you are doing a math problem set, and all the boys you are working with just start singing, and then you can't get the song out of your head? Ugh! I hate that!" That's a direct quote.).
Finally, the lights dim. The preview for "Fred Claus" is disturbing at best. The film begins. The foot odor is a little distracting and I have to ask the woman texting on her cell right in front of me during the first scene to stop it, but otherwise, all is well in hand. Except there is the heat.
And then. And then, the woe. Just as the Order takes Harry to 12 GP, the screen goes dark. A cry erupts from the crowd. This cannot be happening, the assembled throng moans. We have been waiting for this for too long. It must be a little malfunction. Let's be patient.
Then, a sigh of relief, the film continues! We've missed about two minutes of the visuals, but we could hear the sound, so it's okay, it's still good right? Ahh. The 15-year-olds settle, I settle.
Oh no, ten minutes later, the screen goes dark again! The grumbling increases this time, but this is a very polite city, no one is storming mad, everyone waits patiently. Sure enough, two minutes later, the film is back. It's okay, right?
The third time, the pattern is clear. Two minutes of dark every ten minutes of film. This reporter is not amused, but willing to give it a go, see if maybe, magically, the problem will repair itself.
The fourth time, the lovely owner of the theater, looking like he is about to collapse into a puddle of misery on the floor, comes out to tell us they cannot figure out the problem, but the projector is overheating. *shock* They will offer refunds. He also offers to continue to show the film with the blank parts. Now the dilemna- to stay or go.
About a third of the audience chooses to go immediately. The tattooed neighbors comment that perhaps the exodus of that many people will reduce the heat and the projector will cool off. Hmmm, sounds reasonable to this reporter, I'll stick it out for a few more minutes.
It's black during Sirius's first scene. It's black during Draco's first scene. (We can hear the scenes, see, just not see them...) I'm starting to feel the grumpies.
Finally, this reporter thinks about the end of OotP, imagines watching it and imagines the screen going black anywhere near the Veil. As soon as this thought skims through my mind, I stand to retrieve my refund.
This reporter's heart is breaking for these people in this order: 1.The adorable teenagers whose big midnight movie memory of a lifetime was foiled. 2. The owners and employees of the wonderful little cinema, who will take a huge hit form this I'm sure, and then, well, 3. me.
I'm home now, cash refund burning a hole in my pocket, so I guess I'll have a go at seeing the thing tomorrow.
I must remember, I don't really like the movies that much.
And at least I'm away from the foot odor.
ETA: Gave in, went to giant multi-plex matinee, was punished with twenty minutes of ads and previews. That's what I get for ditching out on the independents. I'll save the movie review for another time.
Dateline: Columbia City Cinema, Seattle. Midnight.
Adorable 15-year-old girls are dressed to the nines for Harry. Haggard dads are drinking large Cokes. This intrepid reporter is alone, but sits next to the only other people in the theater even close to my age, a group of very friendly mid-twenties kids with lots of beautiful tattoos (one of whom has a striking resemblance to my image of Bill Weasley, but let's not dwell). The room is warm in the cozy, independently run cinema, but yours truly feels good about the choice to attend the midnight show here, rather than at the corporate mega-plex downtown.
We sit in the stifling heat for an hour as the last tickets are purchased, seats acquired. Someone sits down nearby with terrible foot odor, but this reporter is not fazed. The row of squealing girls to the back provides constant entertainment ("You know when you are doing a math problem set, and all the boys you are working with just start singing, and then you can't get the song out of your head? Ugh! I hate that!" That's a direct quote.).
Finally, the lights dim. The preview for "Fred Claus" is disturbing at best. The film begins. The foot odor is a little distracting and I have to ask the woman texting on her cell right in front of me during the first scene to stop it, but otherwise, all is well in hand. Except there is the heat.
And then. And then, the woe. Just as the Order takes Harry to 12 GP, the screen goes dark. A cry erupts from the crowd. This cannot be happening, the assembled throng moans. We have been waiting for this for too long. It must be a little malfunction. Let's be patient.
Then, a sigh of relief, the film continues! We've missed about two minutes of the visuals, but we could hear the sound, so it's okay, it's still good right? Ahh. The 15-year-olds settle, I settle.
Oh no, ten minutes later, the screen goes dark again! The grumbling increases this time, but this is a very polite city, no one is storming mad, everyone waits patiently. Sure enough, two minutes later, the film is back. It's okay, right?
The third time, the pattern is clear. Two minutes of dark every ten minutes of film. This reporter is not amused, but willing to give it a go, see if maybe, magically, the problem will repair itself.
The fourth time, the lovely owner of the theater, looking like he is about to collapse into a puddle of misery on the floor, comes out to tell us they cannot figure out the problem, but the projector is overheating. *shock* They will offer refunds. He also offers to continue to show the film with the blank parts. Now the dilemna- to stay or go.
About a third of the audience chooses to go immediately. The tattooed neighbors comment that perhaps the exodus of that many people will reduce the heat and the projector will cool off. Hmmm, sounds reasonable to this reporter, I'll stick it out for a few more minutes.
It's black during Sirius's first scene. It's black during Draco's first scene. (We can hear the scenes, see, just not see them...) I'm starting to feel the grumpies.
Finally, this reporter thinks about the end of OotP, imagines watching it and imagines the screen going black anywhere near the Veil. As soon as this thought skims through my mind, I stand to retrieve my refund.
This reporter's heart is breaking for these people in this order: 1.The adorable teenagers whose big midnight movie memory of a lifetime was foiled. 2. The owners and employees of the wonderful little cinema, who will take a huge hit form this I'm sure, and then, well, 3. me.
I'm home now, cash refund burning a hole in my pocket, so I guess I'll have a go at seeing the thing tomorrow.
I must remember, I don't really like the movies that much.
And at least I'm away from the foot odor.
ETA: Gave in, went to giant multi-plex matinee, was punished with twenty minutes of ads and previews. That's what I get for ditching out on the independents. I'll save the movie review for another time.
no subject
Eh, it's all fine. It's just the darn movie, after all. It's not like the book failed to show at midnight. *shudder*
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Good luck with the cowgirl outfit. *snort* You'll have to report about the party after it is over.
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It is supposed to be 96 degrees here today (it is never 96 degrees here) so I think many parts of this town will be having technical difficulties today. Nothing here is set up to deal with this heat, which seemed to be the problem last night.
Anyway, thanks for the sympathy. :-) It was just the movie though, at least it wasn't the *gasp* book that didn't show.
no subject
I'm not planning on seeing it till next week so I'm feeling very behind on my flist.
no subject
I wouldn't worry about feeling behind...after all, we all know what happens in the movie already, right? ;)