Why Can't Theaters Nix Commercials?
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
Oct. 20, 2000
IT'S TIME FOR a brief rant session, kids.
A disturbing trend is quickly invading glitter-domed theater palaces all over the Bay Area: commercials.
Yes, those annoying dispatches from TV-land have finally slithered their way to the big screen. Now we can all watch a larger-than-life group of smirking twentysomethings cruise around in their Volkswagen Cabrio under the stars.
And you thought that ad was bad enough on a 19-inch Zenith.
I expect more protection from my $7.50 theater ticket. Sadly, there is none on the horizon.
During a recent trip to Blackhawk cinemas in Danville, four straight ads flickered before my stunned orbs before the first preview rolled. By the time the film started -- 20 minutes later -- my feet had fallen asleep, I was mumbling to myself and I had briefly forgotten the title of the movie I had paid to see.
It's all part of a distressing movement, really.
For instance, my grandmother fondly recalls hearing a live organist perform while she took her seat in an ornate movie palace bedecked by velvet curtains and Renaissance art.
Today, I get a Las Vegas-themed fun house of neon lights, a tar pit of Raisinets on the floor and a Charles Schwab ad crammed in my mug.
But it's the latter image that really makes my blood boil. Part of the reason I go to the movies in the first place is to escape the endless stream of asinine Gap and Bud spots that dominate my TV set.
Of course, the gradual phasing out of a theater's style and integrity can always be attributed to The Angry Dollar. That is, management's strategy to improve profit flow by any means necessary, save clubbing a consumer with a Klondike bar and snatching his or her wallet.
See, the large theater chains that litter the nation are struggling, despite charging roughly $20 for a king-sized Snickers. Theater behemoths keep building 21-screen domes at a blistering pace -- but the number of moviegoers are not matching that expansion.
In addition, to attract consistently large crowds, the chains are pulling blockbuster films faster than you can say "Italian director Roberto Benigni should be heavily fined each time he approaches any podium."
So they are pulling films after shorter runs to accommodate the new blockbuster waiting on the assembly line. Which is bad for business.
Chains generally split profits with studios on a sliding scale, which means the longer a film hangs around, the larger the pie slice for theater brass.
To offset some of their self-imposed financial woes, they have turned to paid commercials. Which is like hammering a theatergoer with an Oh! Henry bar.
I propose this: Fight back. Try your best to not buy a box of stale Whoppers. Also, show up to your local theater at least 10 minutes late to avoid a dizzying assortment of ads.
And if you're feeling particularly rebellious, write a letter to your local theater's general manager and ask for him or her to issue an apology for not only screening "Father of the Bride Part II," but for shamelessly collecting truckloads of cash to air commercials.
"Mystery, Alaska" is bad enough. But "Mystery, Alaska" plus Charles Schwab -- now that's a tragic double-header.
Contra Costa Newspapers
Oct. 20, 2000
IT'S TIME FOR a brief rant session, kids.
A disturbing trend is quickly invading glitter-domed theater palaces all over the Bay Area: commercials.
Yes, those annoying dispatches from TV-land have finally slithered their way to the big screen. Now we can all watch a larger-than-life group of smirking twentysomethings cruise around in their Volkswagen Cabrio under the stars.
And you thought that ad was bad enough on a 19-inch Zenith.
I expect more protection from my $7.50 theater ticket. Sadly, there is none on the horizon.
During a recent trip to Blackhawk cinemas in Danville, four straight ads flickered before my stunned orbs before the first preview rolled. By the time the film started -- 20 minutes later -- my feet had fallen asleep, I was mumbling to myself and I had briefly forgotten the title of the movie I had paid to see.
It's all part of a distressing movement, really.
For instance, my grandmother fondly recalls hearing a live organist perform while she took her seat in an ornate movie palace bedecked by velvet curtains and Renaissance art.
Today, I get a Las Vegas-themed fun house of neon lights, a tar pit of Raisinets on the floor and a Charles Schwab ad crammed in my mug.
But it's the latter image that really makes my blood boil. Part of the reason I go to the movies in the first place is to escape the endless stream of asinine Gap and Bud spots that dominate my TV set.
Of course, the gradual phasing out of a theater's style and integrity can always be attributed to The Angry Dollar. That is, management's strategy to improve profit flow by any means necessary, save clubbing a consumer with a Klondike bar and snatching his or her wallet.
See, the large theater chains that litter the nation are struggling, despite charging roughly $20 for a king-sized Snickers. Theater behemoths keep building 21-screen domes at a blistering pace -- but the number of moviegoers are not matching that expansion.
In addition, to attract consistently large crowds, the chains are pulling blockbuster films faster than you can say "Italian director Roberto Benigni should be heavily fined each time he approaches any podium."
So they are pulling films after shorter runs to accommodate the new blockbuster waiting on the assembly line. Which is bad for business.
Chains generally split profits with studios on a sliding scale, which means the longer a film hangs around, the larger the pie slice for theater brass.
To offset some of their self-imposed financial woes, they have turned to paid commercials. Which is like hammering a theatergoer with an Oh! Henry bar.
I propose this: Fight back. Try your best to not buy a box of stale Whoppers. Also, show up to your local theater at least 10 minutes late to avoid a dizzying assortment of ads.
And if you're feeling particularly rebellious, write a letter to your local theater's general manager and ask for him or her to issue an apology for not only screening "Father of the Bride Part II," but for shamelessly collecting truckloads of cash to air commercials.
"Mystery, Alaska" is bad enough. But "Mystery, Alaska" plus Charles Schwab -- now that's a tragic double-header.
posted by Corey at 10:58 PM
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