By Don Dafoe
“I think this is the end of a beautiful friendship” paraphrased from Casablanca.
I’m mourning the demise of the movie theater and the communal experience of movie watching. Recently, I paid 17 bucks for a nearly private screening of a big movie, Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning.
The likable and talented Tom Cruise, his head 30 feet tall on the screen, thanked me and a few devotees in the audience for being there — not even enough people to warm up the freezing theater.
During the many, many previews, I calculated movie theater expenses: two popcorn and nachos server guys, a ticket tearer, electricity bill, building rental, film licensing fees and clean-up crew. (Leaving trash and spilling popcorn on the floor is an essential part of the movie going experience along with huge buckets of popcorn and fountain drinks three times bladder capacity.) This particular movie cost $400 million to make, roughly the gross national product of South Africa. That’s a lot of Junior Mints sales to cover expenses. It’s simple math. Movie theaters are going the way of the dodo bird.
A perfect storm — to use an overused phrase — of streaming, the pandemic and a glut of superhero movies has killed movie going. Superhero GCI movies offer unintelligibly complex plots about ancient lands, dark forces, and secret rings all culminating in bearded, old men pontificating about the meaning of life. The 3-hour extravaganzas conclude with wisdom from screenwriters attempting to end on a profound note then playing the music they liked in college as the credits roll.
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A handful of musty theaters with threadbare seats continue to fight the action movie trend with thought-provoking, independent movies. On the other hand, why would we want to watch a dysfunctional family drama or coming-of-age teen flick when we can watch explosions and car wrecks?
Streaming services like Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu and Apple TV have paralyzing amounts of “content.” After finally gambling on a movie choice, we can settle in and watch at home, only to be interrupted by phone calls, kids demanding help with homework, trips to the refrigerator, or changing movies.
Where are the moments of communal laughter (Was I supposed to laugh there? I must’ve missed it,) emotion and catharsis? What a terrific, collective relief the seven of us felt when Tom Cruise (spoiler alert but not really) climbed into the cockpit after hanging onto a biplane wing for hours despite barrel rolls and steep dives. Not for one minute did I live under the illusion that the “final” in the title was final … not for Tom dangling from the wing or the Mission Impossible franchise.
I expect to see a sequel, possibly titled Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning and We Really Mean It This Time.
Dr. Don Dafoe, a transplant surgeon who lives in Highland Park, didn’t say whether his brother, Willem, a four-time Oscar nominee and sometimes Spider-Man villain, shares his views on superhero movies.
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