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Opening weekend of an officially declared COVID-19 pandemic
When the moviegoing experience — as opposed to anything on the screen — left me fearing for my life
Our critic takes a moment to translate Gibberish into the English for, “Purchase tickets at concession stand.”
A stanchion sign in the entranceway to the Reading Grossmont greeted customers with the request, “Please Purchase Tickets At The Concession Stand.” After years spent logging an average of eight movies a month in La Mesa’s munificent multiplex, this was a first. Sure enough, the outside ticket window and the lobby concierge desk were vacant. Such a combination of sales operations is ordinarily a cost-cutting, multi-tasking endeavor to save money by not employing a box office person during off-peak hours. But this was a Friday afternoon, and the first day for a trio of hotly-anticipated new releases. It was also the opening weekend of an officially declared pandemic.
Possessed with a religionist’s faith in the healing power of cinema, I naturally anticipated a crowd. After all, where else are people to turn when just about every other form of entertainment has been put on hold until the virus is no longer considered a public-health threat? And yet: ticket sales fell to their lowest level in two decades. (To help defray losses, theatre chains might want to consider hawking Charmin at the concession stand.) Employees in the lobby outnumbered the patrons. Six feet of social distance? Try sixty. The ten patrons gathered inside the cavernous Grossmont #1, eager to see Bloodshot, sat strategically spaced apart.
Before handing me my bucket of golden kernels and a bottle of Dasani, the rubber-gloved usher ripped my ticket, and I headed to the washroom for a twenty-second surgical scrub of my mitts. Once inside the theatre, I muted the Screenvision adverts, choosing to spend the pre-show minutes jotting down the few times in my life when the moviegoing experience — as opposed to anything on the screen — left me fearing for my life. Four brown shirts, sporting swastika arm bands and seated in the back row of Chicago’s 3 Penny Cinema, cheering on Hitler’s every word during a rare public screening of Leni Riefenstahl’s cogent Nazi-bankrolled documentary, Triumph of the Will. Then there were the armed guards stationed in all four corners of the Biograph theatre looking to diffuse a bomb threat phoned in just hours prior to the opening day presentation of The Last Temptation of Christ. And who could forget that Easter Sunday screening of Vincere in the big Hillcrest, during which a foundation-rocking earthquake hit? I was the only one to remain seated, figuring, What better place for a guy like me to check out than inside a movie theatre?
This morning, Monday, March 16, theatres in New York and Los Angeles were placed on lockdown for the length of the outbreak. Regal Cinemas has closed their theatres nationwide. By the time you read this, the same orders to close may apply to San Diego movie screens. Two of our town’s premiere cinematic events — the San Diego Latino Film Festival and the San Diego Asian Film Festival’s Spring Showcase — have already been postponed. So far, according to their websites, Reading Cinemas and AMC Theatres are continuing to operate their movie theatres. Rest assured that if it’s in the best interests of their valued patrons, each is prepared to shut their doors. For now, both chains are following the guidelines set by the Center for Disease Control. New and enhanced procedures have been put in place to help prevent the spread of COVID-19. What are being referred to as “high-touch point areas” (kiosks, counter tops, bathrooms, glass, handrails, doorknobs, etc.) will be sanitized on the hour. Cashless transactions are preferred. Patrons, while encouraged to maintain a physical distance, won’t be asked to sit four chairs apart from friends and family members.
This just in: what began with theatres capping the normal seating capacity of each screen to 50% has now been reduced to 50 seats. Even the indies are pushing back release dates. A24 has decided to relaunch Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow later in the year. If theatres do shutter for the duration, and we’re forced into hibernation, check this space for reviews of home video sensations. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. I sure do love going to the movies.
[Editor’s note: word has just come in that Landmark Theatres is suspending all operations until further notice.]
Here's something you might be interested in.
Opening weekend of an officially declared COVID-19 pandemic
When the moviegoing experience — as opposed to anything on the screen — left me fearing for my life
Opening weekend of an officially declared COVID-19 pandemic
When the moviegoing experience — as opposed to anything on the screen — left me fearing for my life
Our critic takes a moment to translate Gibberish into the English for, “Purchase tickets at concession stand.”
A stanchion sign in the entranceway to the Reading Grossmont greeted customers with the request, “Please Purchase Tickets At The Concession Stand.” After years spent logging an average of eight movies a month in La Mesa’s munificent multiplex, this was a first. Sure enough, the outside ticket window and the lobby concierge desk were vacant. Such a combination of sales operations is ordinarily a cost-cutting, multi-tasking endeavor to save money by not employing a box office person during off-peak hours. But this was a Friday afternoon, and the first day for a trio of hotly-anticipated new releases. It was also the opening weekend of an officially declared pandemic.
Possessed with a religionist’s faith in the healing power of cinema, I naturally anticipated a crowd. After all, where else are people to turn when just about every other form of entertainment has been put on hold until the virus is no longer considered a public-health threat? And yet: ticket sales fell to their lowest level in two decades. (To help defray losses, theatre chains might want to consider hawking Charmin at the concession stand.) Employees in the lobby outnumbered the patrons. Six feet of social distance? Try sixty. The ten patrons gathered inside the cavernous Grossmont #1, eager to see Bloodshot, sat strategically spaced apart.
Before handing me my bucket of golden kernels and a bottle of Dasani, the rubber-gloved usher ripped my ticket, and I headed to the washroom for a twenty-second surgical scrub of my mitts. Once inside the theatre, I muted the Screenvision adverts, choosing to spend the pre-show minutes jotting down the few times in my life when the moviegoing experience — as opposed to anything on the screen — left me fearing for my life. Four brown shirts, sporting swastika arm bands and seated in the back row of Chicago’s 3 Penny Cinema, cheering on Hitler’s every word during a rare public screening of Leni Riefenstahl’s cogent Nazi-bankrolled documentary, Triumph of the Will. Then there were the armed guards stationed in all four corners of the Biograph theatre looking to diffuse a bomb threat phoned in just hours prior to the opening day presentation of The Last Temptation of Christ. And who could forget that Easter Sunday screening of Vincere in the big Hillcrest, during which a foundation-rocking earthquake hit? I was the only one to remain seated, figuring, What better place for a guy like me to check out than inside a movie theatre?
This morning, Monday, March 16, theatres in New York and Los Angeles were placed on lockdown for the length of the outbreak. Regal Cinemas has closed their theatres nationwide. By the time you read this, the same orders to close may apply to San Diego movie screens. Two of our town’s premiere cinematic events — the San Diego Latino Film Festival and the San Diego Asian Film Festival’s Spring Showcase — have already been postponed. So far, according to their websites, Reading Cinemas and AMC Theatres are continuing to operate their movie theatres. Rest assured that if it’s in the best interests of their valued patrons, each is prepared to shut their doors. For now, both chains are following the guidelines set by the Center for Disease Control. New and enhanced procedures have been put in place to help prevent the spread of COVID-19. What are being referred to as “high-touch point areas” (kiosks, counter tops, bathrooms, glass, handrails, doorknobs, etc.) will be sanitized on the hour. Cashless transactions are preferred. Patrons, while encouraged to maintain a physical distance, won’t be asked to sit four chairs apart from friends and family members.
This just in: what began with theatres capping the normal seating capacity of each screen to 50% has now been reduced to 50 seats. Even the indies are pushing back release dates. A24 has decided to relaunch Kelly Reichardt’s First Cow later in the year. If theatres do shutter for the duration, and we’re forced into hibernation, check this space for reviews of home video sensations. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that. I sure do love going to the movies.
[Editor’s note: word has just come in that Landmark Theatres is suspending all operations until further notice.]
Commentstraye
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March 19, 2020
vulmasodro
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March 20, 2020