Elegy for the Silver Screen
It has now been a year since we lost the dark sanctuary of the movie theatre. I am one those who crave the thrill of the BIG screen as the images and sound surround me with their overwhelming power. The unique social atmosphere of cinema-going over the years has been one of life’s great pleasures. The thrilling anticipation of the ticket booth, the smell of the popcorn, the dimly lit reverence of waiting in your seat for the trailers to begin. These are the rituals of a devoted movie lover. Rarely has the atmosphere of a working cinema been accurately captured on film.
The first great movie to do so was in 1957 with The Smallest Show on Earth. Virginia McKenna and Bill Travers (Born Free), star as a young couple who inherit a modest movie theatre and the unique characters who work there, including the always hilarious Peter Sellers (The Pink Panther) as the drunk projectionist. With its whimsical cast of British types, this charming comedy celebrates the transportive medium of film through the humour and humanity of the eccentric employees and their equally peculiar customers.
Starting in the 1950s in the U.S. and Canada, drive-in cinemas started to catch on with the public, particularly for families and teenagers. Currently, watching a movie isolated in your car has made a comeback due to the enforced closure of the multiplexes. In 1976 the film Drive-In perfectly recreated the heady and horny hijinks of being a teenager in Texas while watching a film from the backseat of you father’s automobile. The movie playing at this drive-in is a clever parody of the Airport, Towering Inferno and Jaws films but it’s the adolescent angst and sexual excitement of the drive-in theatre experience that was the legacy for generations of kids.
The 1980s was the flourishing era of the art house cinema, a uniquely urban theatre that programmed mostly foreign language films. Cinema Paradiso (1988) from Italy tells the poignant story of 8-year-old Salvatore (Salvatore Cascio), whose passion for movies, and friendship with his hometown cinema projectionist have a profound effect on his life and loves as he becomes an adult. Writer-Director Giuseppe Tornatore imbues this paean to movies with a breathtaking romanticism for the sacrament of film-going, where the local theatre doubles as the church, thus providing both religious and emotional nourishment to the town.
By the 1990s, cinema attendance was still on the rise largely due to the proliferation of action film stars such as Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. The Last Action Hero (1993), was an attempt to satirize this genre, creating a meta-fantasy where Arnold plays both himself and his on-screen alter ego Jack Slater. Beginning at a slightly rundown movie palace, we are introduced to teenage film fan Danny Madigan (Austin O’Brien) who is given a golden ticket by the elderly owner that miraculously hurls him right up onto the silver screen and into the films of Jack Slater. By physically entering the world of his hero, Danny fulfills his greatest desire to truly experience the magic of movies, including the hair-raising car chases, violent gunplay and daredevil stunts, that are loved by boys of his age. Opening in the summer opposite the seminal CGI special effects of Jurassic Park, The Last Action Hero was ironically a failure at the box office with the same 13-year-old boys represented by its young protagonist.
Digital projection became the industry standard by the early 2010s. Gradually, the event of film-going became less pleasurable, especially for older viewers unaccustomed to the barrage of car ads designed to distract impolite audiences as they chat or fiddle on their cell phones during the show. Many who no longer “go the movies” didn’t even miss them when they were forced to close last year. Being a hopeful cinephile, I expect that ardent fans who cherish the value of enjoying films in the darkness with strangers will soon return to cinemas with renewed optimism for their popularity and cultural importance.
