Last week I saw Star Wars at the Ziegfeld at the pinnacle of the movie-going experience. I was in one of the largest, most plush theaters in the country, often the home of world premiers. A thousand enthusiastic, rapt fans surrounded me, many with light sabers, contributing to the communal buzz. In New York, that is as good as it gets. Normally it is much worse.
After remembering to MovieFone your tickets at least a few hours in advance, arriving at least 30 minutes early, you get to shell out $12 to watch a half an hour of commercials, and then watch the movie, often with unsolicited commentary from the local flavor. At home I have 6.1 surround sound, my own private bathroom, snacks, drinks, and the ? of the couch that Ildi is not sprawled on.
I get unlimited movies from Netflix, or if I was less lazy, I could download (steal) them using BitTorrent. I can drink beer. Eventually, I will get a digital projector and turn my apartment into a personal screening room. Did I mention the beer and the private bathroom? Will Netflix, cheap home sound systems, and digital projectors end the movies, as in a place you go to?
I still like the feel of the big screen when the lights drop and the crowd hushes, the music of the production company intro rumbles, and my hand heads south, but there are a few more things the theaters could do to keep my business:
– Beer
– Bouncers who rudely deal with hecklers and cell phones
– Assigned seats, no La-Z-Boys. With personal coolers and massage vibrations.
– Preview go-go girls
– Whiskey, which is not the same as beer
– The two old guys from the Muppets
Some people ask why. I ask why not.
My Tiki god
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Sites of the Day: From the A’s, Kristen sends a college kid burning his face and Matt sends the lion and the little people, wonderfulk although it is fake.