The ecstasy and the agony...
I can remember when a quarter would buy you an afternoon of cinema ecstasy... two major films, 15 minutes of "previews" (or dreams of future heaven), a cartoon, and a newsreel or two. We're talking an entire afternoon or evening, absolutely cram-packed with entertainment! You went in "loaded for bear," with a bag full of sweet sustenance, not preventing you at all from heading straight for the refreshment booth for your popcorn starter course. Thus armed, it was a grand rush for the best seat, hopefully near the front of the theater for unobstructed viewing (bladder be damned...), all the time keeping one eye out for that pesky uniformed authoritarian bully with a flashlight and anal code of behavior... the usher. The usher could kill the keenest and most enjoyable experience faster than Shane could unholster his six shooter.
Nothing was worse than missing a film because you were sick, your parents scheduled a vacation, or, disappointment of the century... it didn't come to your theater! There was no second chance and no reason to believe it would ever come around again. If you didn’t catch it when it was at your favorite theater you were just out of luck. Sob…
Fortunately, films weren't cranked out so fast as they are now, by anyone with the money or interest to do it. You got to see pretty nearly everything that came down the pike. There were no ratings or codes to interfere and we kids got some real education in those days. Of course there wasn't any nudity but films managed to be pretty racy in spite of it. There was no raw language factor…unless the hero said something ‘bad’ like…“damn!” And we kids uttered a collective “ooooooh,” even though our dads and uncles uttered worse than that when fixing the family automobile. Nobody worried about the violence scarring you for life. After all, it was life. We were scarred far more by missing seeing a film than we were by what we saw in the film.
It's funny how those film experiences shaped your life and persist in your memory, even after you get old enough to forget what happened yesterday or this morning... It's great to be able to buy the DVDs and revisit those times. We collect those films and watch them over and over again, so as not to lose those experiences and yet, if we were to be honest, we'd have to admit that sometimes those films were pretty darned dumb to begin with. Escapism! That's the ticket... then and even now. Better than drugs, better than alcohol, better than an army of psychologists trying to rearrange the warped data of our inadequate brains into a nice little plastic model of tranquility.
Oh sure... it's great to get out a video or a DVD, settle into a comfortable chair and let loose. If you get hungry or the phone rings or the bladder threatens mutiny, you freeze the frame and get back to it as soon as you can. But there's something about the excitement of anticipation and the smell of real butter waiting to be drizzled on your popcorn, picking out the 'right' seat, and the air of threat from the ever vigilant, fun squelching usher that nudges your psyche and makes you wish you were back in front of that magical giant screen riding the adventure for the first time...
Nothing was worse than missing a film because you were sick, your parents scheduled a vacation, or, disappointment of the century... it didn't come to your theater! There was no second chance and no reason to believe it would ever come around again. If you didn’t catch it when it was at your favorite theater you were just out of luck. Sob…
Fortunately, films weren't cranked out so fast as they are now, by anyone with the money or interest to do it. You got to see pretty nearly everything that came down the pike. There were no ratings or codes to interfere and we kids got some real education in those days. Of course there wasn't any nudity but films managed to be pretty racy in spite of it. There was no raw language factor…unless the hero said something ‘bad’ like…“damn!” And we kids uttered a collective “ooooooh,” even though our dads and uncles uttered worse than that when fixing the family automobile. Nobody worried about the violence scarring you for life. After all, it was life. We were scarred far more by missing seeing a film than we were by what we saw in the film.
It's funny how those film experiences shaped your life and persist in your memory, even after you get old enough to forget what happened yesterday or this morning... It's great to be able to buy the DVDs and revisit those times. We collect those films and watch them over and over again, so as not to lose those experiences and yet, if we were to be honest, we'd have to admit that sometimes those films were pretty darned dumb to begin with. Escapism! That's the ticket... then and even now. Better than drugs, better than alcohol, better than an army of psychologists trying to rearrange the warped data of our inadequate brains into a nice little plastic model of tranquility.
Oh sure... it's great to get out a video or a DVD, settle into a comfortable chair and let loose. If you get hungry or the phone rings or the bladder threatens mutiny, you freeze the frame and get back to it as soon as you can. But there's something about the excitement of anticipation and the smell of real butter waiting to be drizzled on your popcorn, picking out the 'right' seat, and the air of threat from the ever vigilant, fun squelching usher that nudges your psyche and makes you wish you were back in front of that magical giant screen riding the adventure for the first time...
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