Historically and scientifically absurd, but I’d still like to adopt a minion


Transcript below the fold.


Let me take a moment to talk about my local movie theater and my role in it, and why I’m making videos about the movies I see.

The Morris movie theater is an old institution in my town. It was built in the 1930s, and I know some of you are laughing at the idea of calling a 90 year old theater old theater “OLD”, but keep in mind that this town has only existed for about 150 years, and was incorporated in 1902. It was little more than a whistle-stop to serve a few grain elevators and a community of farmers for a long time. It’s mark of distinction was a Catholic Indian school built in the 1880s, which fortunately later evolved into a liberal arts college that employs me. This theater was an important center for entertainment in the area, and flourished during the early days of Hollywood and the development of the movie entertainment culture in America.

It had fallen on hard times, though. The entertainment industry was reliant on these small town movie houses, but the revenue has been shrinking, in part because of contract clauses that required showings, no matter whether the movie stank or not. This is why multiplexes are all over the place — because they spread the gamble out, one stinker doesn’t dominate your revenue for weeks. So one of the big steps the Morris theater had to take was to remodel and add a second theater. The main theater holds over 250 people, and the additional micro theater holds only 18, but it’s a way to dump a contractual obligation. Although…the micro theater is nice and cozy, and I actually prefer to watch movies there.

Keep in mind, though, that that was a major expense for a business with only a small revenue stream. We have a theater board that makes decisions about investments to improve the theater, and putting in a second theater was a costly one. We’re also looking at essential maintenance, like repairing the roof, and quality of life improvements, like completely remodeling the two bathrooms. We also have to be prepared for emergencies, like what if a projector dies on us? We’re also dealing with a lot of obsolete equipment. Like, would you believe the computer that controls the projector is running Windows 7? I’m always surprised by how slow that thing is.

Running a small town theater is a marginal enterprise. The only thing keeping us viable is a clever little trick: we don’t pay the staff. We’re all of us, every one, volunteers. Every one working there is invested in keeping the theater running.

So we’ve got volunteers to staff the concessions, making popcorn and running the cash register. We’ve got a volunteer accountant keeping the books for us. We have a couple of incredibly dedicated people who handle programming the scheduler and fixing things when they break down. A couple of volunteers recently came in and completely repainted the lobby, and it looks stunning now. I’m one of several projectionists: I come in once or twice a week for a three hour shift, turning everything on and counting the money in the cash box, helping out with concessions, and at the end sweeping up spilled popcorn and shutting everything down. Many hands make light work, and I’m willing to put in a few hours to help keep everything running.

All of the profits from this theater are poured back into maintenance and capital improvements. It’s a wonderful example of mutual aid and community cooperation.

Clearly, people value having a movie theater in town, even in this age of streaming services and home theaters. I assure you, if you want to focus on the movie, the theater is not the best way to optimize your finely tuned cinematic experience. The theater is a community event: we get families coming in, when we show those horrible PureFlix movies church congregations will show up, certain movies will draw in special interest groups who will bond over a shared experience. Me, I personally like the familiar surroundings and memories of past theater gatherings, the smell of popcorn, the people settling in around me. It’s worth it to me and a lot of other people.

I guess the question is…why? Why are so many people willing to sacrifice time and effort for an old theater? I don’t have a good answer, other than that we’ve adopted movies as a significant element of our secular culture, which shouldn’t be surprising, since plays predate movie technology, and story-telling with dance and masks and music and drama and comedy are human universals. I think Morris would be a poorer place without a theater.

And, after saying all that stuff about human universals and communal effort, I have to tell you that the movie this week is Minions & Monsters, the 7th in a series of animated movies featuring these strange little yellow guys who speak in incomprehensible lingo. I’ve found them kind of annoying, one of those weird cultural memes that sort of sail past my understanding, but I must confess…this movie clicked with me. There are a couple of reasons for that.

One, I just told you a bit of the history of the theater in Morris, and the plot of this movie (it actually has a plot, and a good one) revolves around film making in the 1920s … and also splices in references to movies from the 1950s and elsewhere.

Two, it included a mini-Cthulhu. The minions are trying to make a monster movie, so they use an old book to summon a monster to star, and they got this cute adorable little green tentacled thing. But they still remain true to the mythos: while he might be cute, he’s still planning to destroy the world.

Third, it is a kids movie, but it still includes enough references to classic adult movies from this era and beyond to amuse me.

And fourth, it’s a good moneymaker. Our theater relies on blockbusters to bring in the crowds to buy our popcorn (concessions are the real money-maker for the theater), and this movie sold tickets. We had lots of families come in for the show, and families buy treats to keep the kids in line.

The bad news, though, is that we were making bank at the concessions, and I had to help because we had a long line in the lobby, so I missed the first 45 minutes of the movie. It’s OK, though, because I recognized all the tropes and could fill in the blanks.

I come from a big extended family, so I had lots of brothers and sisters and swarms of cousins, and in my childhood we’d take turns staying with my grandmother and my Uncle Ed, who probably shaped my tastes in entertainment more than I am aware of. We’d go to the corner drug store and buy a bunch of comic books — which was far more feasible in an era when they cost 15 cents each — and we’d soak in the superhero milieu for a while. Then we’d go to a matinee, which would consist of Japanese kaiju or old horror movies starring Boris Karloff or Bela Lugosi, and sometimes slapstick like the Three Stooges. We’d go home and watch Soupy Sales on the TV (if you don’t remember him, it would be an hour of pies thrown in faces), and later we’d watch Batman — the one with Adam West — or The Avengers — the one with Diana Rigg, rawr — and stay up late for the creature features, when Uncle Ed would usually fall asleep.

It was paradise. It also rotted our brains, so you can blame the content of current popular cinema on what Boomers grew up on. Sorry.

Anyway, the Minions & Monsters movie was all of that mixed up in a lumpy smoothie of slapstick and cheesy old horror movies, so it resonated. The audience also made me feel good about what I was doing.

There was a little girl who came up with a ten dollar bill clutched in her hand to order popcorn and candy. She was all alone and shy and very, very serious about her mission. I was impressed — she was taking her first steps towards independence and learning how to deal with the world. I hope I wasn’t too scary.

There was a little boy who was maybe getting a bit overstimulated by the movie, so he’d discharge a little energy by running up the aisle to the lobby, where we had this big poster on the wall. He’d stand in front of the poster, flex his arms, and babble at it in incomprehensible toddler-speak, which is about as comprehensible as minionese, before scampering back down the aisle to his family.

Obviously, the audience was having a good time. That’s why I’m in show business, after all!

I can’t say much about the details of the movie, because I was swamped with scooping up popcorn and filling pop orders, but I am volunteering at another showing tonight. I’m torn between hoping we get another big crowd that’ll bring in good money, and having light attendance that let’s me sneak away to actually see more of the movie.

If you want to learn more, a webcomic I’ve been subscribed to for a great many years is the Unspeakable Vault (Of Doom), at goominet.com/unspeakable-vault/, and the creator is employed by Illumination, the animation company behind all the minions movies, and he gives some of the inside story on how it was made. It’s how the uncanny valley between cosmic horror and children’s movies was populated and pacified and made safe for mass market audiences.

I recommend this movie if you have a childish heart or if you have children.

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