Monday, August 24, 2009

The Brad Pitt Effect

Not too long ago I opened up the USA Today to the Life section to see an article about "Inglourious Basterds". Now, I hadn't seen the film at the time but it still managed to get me totally riled up- and gave me that much more motivation to go out and see it. It reported that more women have gone to see this particular film compared to previous works of Quentin Tarantino- 42% of the audience so far, actually. Obviously, that's not the part I had a problem with. I was pretty excited to hear that women are showing up in greater numbers to this than "Post Grad".

What really surprised me was the reason why. Or at least USA Today and Harvey Weinstein's reasons why. Two words: Brad Pitt. This actor, or his face rather, is attributed to the sole reason why women are seeing "Inglourious Basterds" more than other Tarantino movies. It literally states, "That tandem was all it took to lure female moviegoers". Okay, I'm no feminist but this is pretty insulting. As if placing a widely regarded attractive male actor in a lead role suddenly causes all us brainless females to finally leave the kitchen and buy a movie ticket. This is no surprise to the Weinstein Company, though, since recent trailers were cut to purposefully focus more on Brad Pitt and less on any violence. Right- because women would never be smart enough to attribute violence to a Tarantino flick.

And you know what? "Inglourius Basterds" has turned out to be one of my favorite movies of the year, so far.

The funny thing is, USA Today also grouped "Inglourious Basterds" into an article called, "Film Remakes Gone Wild". Really? That many people have seen the 1978 Italian work "Inglorious Bastards"? How many people who have seen or are planning to see Tarantino's movie even know it's a remake at all? I think it's ridiculous to lump this movie into the same category as "G.I. Joe: The Rise of the Cobra" and "Land of the Lost". The article also asserts that this is a "familiar" movie since it's about war...What? Here's the quote:

"Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds is another time warp, a historically egregious nod to war flicks, film noir."

Here's the link to the whole article, if you're curious:
http://www.usatoday.com/life/movies/news/2009-08-17-film-remakes_N.htm

Taking their formula, I'm not sure a totally original film exists. (Sounds like a good topic for a future post...)

But more importantly, what really sets this movie apart from other summer blockbusters we've seen dominating the box office lately is not only Tarantino's unique style but the traditional pacing of the film. Anything with fast, erratic cuts anymore is attributed to this "MTV generation" idea since the style emulates music videos more than it does a movie. Tarantino pushes his audience to sit back and actually watch an entire scene unfold... for a very long time. By doing this he builds a form of suspense that I don't think bombarding us with images so fast we might have a seizure can ever come close to. It is one of the most original as well as entertaining films I've seen in the theater in a while and I only hope more people (especially women) will agree... after they get past the shock that Brad Pitt's glorious mug isn't even actually on the screen very much.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

No, I haven't seen "Casablanca"

That's my confession.  I've never seen that movie.  Now you say, "But I thought you were a film major!"  It doesn't really matter what movie it is, from time to time I have to figure out a decent response to this accusation.  Usually, it's classic Hollywood movies from what many consider the golden era of film; although, once or twice it's been about some random 90's action flick (which is also the reason I lose points in Scene It).  Whether I studied it in film class or not, I haven't seen every movie...nor do I want to.      

There's a big difference between movies I think I should see and movies I want to see.  Looking through my Netflix queue I can see this problem represented right in front of me as certain movies seem to just float in the middle for months and months, never actually reaching the top but never being deleted either.  For a while J was giving me trouble for never watching "The Pianist" and I told him I just hadn't been in the mood for it.  To which he responded, "Abby, you're never going to be in the mood for the Holocaust!"  Touche.

So while I finally did get myself to watch "The Pianist", which was totally worth it by the way, some nights I just want to watch an entertaining movie that I know and love.  While on the one hand I get incredibly frustrated when films like "Transformers 2" and "G.I. Joe" dominate the box office, the need to just escape with a film isn't a totally foreign idea to me.  I just don't happen to do it through ridiculous toy-based action flicks.  

My cup of tea?  "Anchorman".  I have no idea how many times I've seen it but no matter what, it always makes me laugh.  I think there's an unspoken rule among film majors that no matter what, you DON'T admit you like "Anchorman".  It's much more acceptable to make pretentious jabs at man-children like Will Ferrell in front of the entire class- a slam that is always well received with jaded snickers.  Instead, we're supposed to say we enjoy watching Buster Keaton on a Friday night which makes us just die from laughter.  I don't find Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin particularly funny.  I can watch it, write about it, and appreciate the significance but that doesn't mean I'm going to run out and rent "Modern Times" when I want to laugh.  I'd go as far as to say that anyone born after 1965 is a total liar if they tell you otherwise.  Or, they just have a really crappy sense of humor.

So in an effort to combat the dreaded "I thought you were a film major!" accusation, I've started lying.  Because even though I haven't "seen" "Casablanca", I've SEEN "Casablanca".  I know the entire plot, the famous line, and the mix-up of that famous line.  And I've found it's much easier to flat out lie and reaffirm someone's idea my film expertise than to explain everything I just wrote to them.

Now if I could only get "Schindler's List" to the top of my queue...



At least he thinks he's funny.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Paper I Wrote on Hitchcock

So in an effort to show some more serious and formal writing I've done on film, here's a short paper I wrote for my Films of Alfred Hitchcock class.

Art is one of the many motifs Alfred Hitchcock uses in several of his films to reveal deeper themes that are important, but an average viewer may not notice at first.  In his 1929 film Blackmail, Hitchcock’s villain is an artist and his paintings are an important part of the film in what they represent.  The use of art as a motif in Blackmail reveals more about the characters, advances the plotline, foreshadows events, and symbolizes covert themes of the film.

            The painting of the jester is a reoccurring image in Blackmail that conveys several different ideas as the film progresses.  The first time the jester painting appears on screen is when Alice has gone up to and is exploring Mr. Crewe’s apartment.  When Alice comes across the painting she mimics the gesture of the pointing finger and laughs whole-heartedly at what she sees as a silly portrait.  By imitating the jester Alice is therefore identifying with him, as up until this point she has lived a carefree and jovial life where she can date a dependable police detective but also have fun with a spontaneous artist on the side.  The next time the jester painting shows up is right after Alice has tried to fend off and eventually stabbed Mr. Crewe and is about to leave his apartment.  This time Alice’s reaction to the piece of art is to be horrified rather than to laugh, and the outstretched finger of the jester is now accusatory as it blames Alice for what she has just done.  Her response is to lash out and stab through the canvas; an act that mirrors what Alice has just done to the artist of the work. 

The idea that after this horrendous incident Alice now sees the painting of the jester in a different way represents how Alice now sees the rest of the world in a different way.  Before that particular night, Alice’s world was one full of innocence and ease.  After the attempted rape and self-defense that resulted in murder on Alice’s part, her world is then tainted with scandal and she will never view it the same way again.  This is further reiterated by the next scene were Alice stumbles aimlessly through the city and everything reminds her of the event she has just gone through. The jester also is the first instance of the common motif of an outstretched hand seen throughout the film Blackmail, especially after the murder where Alice continually associates any outstretched hand with that of Mr. Crewe’s limp hand hanging out of the curtain.  The image of the jester seemingly catching Alice in her incriminating act also foreshadows the blackmailer, Tracy, who discovers what she has done and tries to make her suffer the consequences.  The blackmailer, like the jester, appears to take great joy in getting Alice in this position as he takes his time tormenting her at her parent’s breakfast table.

            The jester painting also plays into Frank’s storyline as well as the resolution, or lack there of, of the film.  The day after Alice has been at Mr. Crewe’s, Frank is in the same apartment investigating the murder of the artist with his coworkers.  While examining the crime scene, Frank finds one of Alice’s gloves and realizes that she had been in the apartment the night before and may have something to do with the murder.  Frank turns and sees the painting of the jester that is now laughing at him, as he is realizing his suspicions were right in that his girlfriend has not been faithful to him.  The jester laughing at him also means that Frank should have known and stopped the infidelity earlier, especially after he saw Alice and the artist together after Frank had dinner with Alice the night before.  The jester is lastly seen at the end of the film after Alice has tried to confess to the murder but Frank has made sure that all the blame is placed on the now deceased blackmailer, Tracy.  The painting of the jester is shown being taken into evidence and is now laughing once again at Alice, who is left to live with her guilt in an unhappy and controlling relationship with Frank.  This is particularly clear in the final scene of the film where Alice and Frank walk stoically out of the police station without holding hands. 

            The artist, Mr. Crewe, and the portrait of a nude figure he and Alice paint are both important symbols in Blackmail as well.  Alice’s life, as played out through the beginning of the film, is one of relative comfort and ease where she is used to getting what she wants.  This is best shown by her reaction when she meets Frank at the police station and immediately reprimands him for being late.  Because of her easy and predictable life, Alice sees Mr. Crewe, the artist, as an exciting form of escape especially compared to her boredom in her relationship with Frank.  She is clearly interested in Mr. Crewe’s profession, as she looks over his paintings at his apartment and asks him to help her hold a paint palette correctly.  Mr. Crewe, on the other hand, uses art and being an artist to his advantage in order to lure Alice to his apartment where he plans to take advantage of her.  He understands Alice’s desire for spontaneity and practically dares her to come up to his apartment with him. 

While looking through Mr. Crewe’s art supplies, Alice inadvertently makes a mark on his blank canvas that she then turns into a smiley face.  Mr. Crewe then guides her hand to finish the person and draws an outline of a naked woman, which represents the artist taking control over Alice in a sexual way.  After undressing Alice with his paintbrush, the artist will literally get her undressed and try to take advantage of her only moments later in the film.  When the painting is complete, Alice giggles and jokingly reprimands the artist for his work, but she is clearly still comfortable and thinking of it as a game.  Alice then signs her name at the bottom of the painting in bold, capital letters that further suggests she is the subject of the painting rather than the artist.  After Alice has defended herself from Mr. Crewe and killed him, she sees the nude painting again as she prepares to leave and is now disgusted to realize the true intentions of the artist from the beginning.  She quickly takes a paintbrush and crosses out the title, which also represents a blackening of her name as she has been robbed of her innocence.

In Blackmail, Hitchcock uses this theme to his advantage in several different ways, though especially in the central plotline of Alice turning from an innocent girl to a tarnished victim that defines the second half of the film.  Just as art is not only visually appealing, Hitchcock uses this motif in order to serve a deeper purpose with a clear point of view as well. 

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Why do I go to scary movies?

I should probably preface this post with the warning that I don't actually have an answer to this question.  Last week J got free passes to go see "Drag Me to Hell"...and I went.  I remember the nervous anticipation building that afternoon as I was waiting for 7:00 to come around.  It wasn't so much excitement, as dread.  And once I was actually in the seat at the theater, it only got worse.  I've found I have the same reaction to roller coasters after a night at a theme park in Minnesota- suddenly I was in the front row of "Steel Venom" about to be shot off at 872 mph (or something like that) and it was actually the last place I wanted to be.  I realize this is a fairly common reaction to fear, but I must say being seated around groups of pre-teens laughing and joking didn't exactly help my self-esteem.  So there I am, waiting to be dragged to hell and wishing I wasn't.  
One thing I've always found interesting is how people react to scary movies.  My own personal tactic is the duck and cover- something I've perfected just recently.  That's right- I don't scream, I don't just close my eyes, I literally get low in my seat and cover my head.  Like that helps.  "Gemorrah" was the first film where I noticed I do this- halfway through the Italian mob film I tried to take cover after a drive-by shooting exploded out of nowhere.  And that's not even a horror film.  I heard somewhere that when you feel you're in danger your instinct is to cover your heart.  Maybe I just have great survival instincts?
So while I'm spending most of the film in the cage of safety provided by my forearms (although I also use the more traditional covering my eyes tactic- usually while still peaking through the tiniest slits imaginable) my sister has her own way of dealing with it: she talks.  A lot.  I can remember in junior high when we got our hands on a copy of "House on Haunted Hill" and while I was focused on the creepy doctor giving a lobotomy while the dumb blonde stood and watched through the high-tech flip out screen on her Sony Handycam (terrifying at the time!) my sister started chattering on about anything and everything.  It seems it's not enough just to distract herself, but she has to pull everyone else's attention away as well to achieve her full effect of disconnecting from what's happening.  Even better than that is when after the film is over, in this case it was "Zodiac", she can't even begin to go to bed until we've had several more minutes of mindless chatter related to anything BUT the San Francisco masked murderer, or even Robert Downey Jr. as Paul Avery- no, we must be miles away from anything we just witnessed.  
So while she does everything she can to avoid watching anything scary, J seeks out only the greatest source of fear he can find in the form of movies.  Although, sometimes I'm not sure if he takes greater pleasure in the film or in how easy it is freak me out during and/or after.  One of his greatest triumphs happened when I took a bathroom break during "The Orphanage" at my apartment (that's right- I got so scared I literally had to pee).  The worst part was I was washing my hands, thinking about how he was probably going to scare me the second I came out and I even noticed a shadow blocking the light coming from under the door- classic horror movie stuff, right?  I still screamed.  However, what I didn't know was that his best friend had come over and was waiting in my closet.  Double scare.  So much worse since you've already let your guard down and had a good laugh about how ridiculously you reacted (with full recreations of the whole thing of course).  During "Drag Me to Hell" J couldn't stop laughing and smiling with complete and utter joy: though I'm not sure if he was reacting to the film or my cowering in the chair repeating, "No," to myself over and over.  I even managed to anticipate a few scares I remembered from the trailer to preemptively hide my eyes.
So why did I go?  Obviously, J is great but even my fondness for him couldn't be the only reason I sat in that seat- although, the fact the film was free probably contributed to it as well.  In 1895 Thomas Edison hired Alfred Clark to film a re-creation called "The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots" which is sometimes considered to be the first horror film.  Basically, they brought Mary out, revealed an executioner, switched Mary out for a dummy, chopped off her head, and the executioner showed it to the audience.  The end.  It was hugely popular.
I think we go to horror films for the same reason we go to any type of genre film- to feel a heightened emotion or emotions we don't normally get in our everyday life.  Most people didn't go to high school parties as incredibly well written as "Superbad".  Most couple's relationships don't reach the romantic pinnacle of "Pride and Prejudice".  And most people aren't bankers who refuse to give a lone to a crotchety old lady who freaks out and puts a curse on you only to make your life miserable where you're continually tormented by unseen monsters and flies go up your nose and nobody believes you and everyone thinks you're nuts all the while demons are trying to drag you to hell and even the crazy Mexican medium can't help you.  
I must say though, it was a pretty great movie...and I'm still having nightmares about it.

Monday, May 25, 2009

When Food Meets Film

Last night I was watching "Wonder Boys" with my boyfriend (who will be referred to as J from now on since I'm already tired of writing "my boyfriend") and also eating a donut.  Okay, donuts.  I was thinking about how much I love to eat when watching movies and how I hadn't even realized that I always grab a snack of some kind before hitting play.  My brother would say, the movie just happens to be a coincidence, I'm actually just always eating.  He's probably right.  But, I think food and film have always been connected.  Think back to the old drive-in ads we used to see, or get to keep seeing if you go to the Hi-Pointe (super hipster!), and the entire song and dance numbers devoted to encouraging us to get off our butts and get a hot dog before the movie begins.  Don't mind if I do!  
The most common thing being talked about in terms of food and the movies has to do with complaints over the price of popcorn and other concessions.  But have you really seen fewer people with their giant tubs filing into the theater- often after the movie starts which tells me they're even more adamant about their food than seeing the opening of the film?  I think just the aroma of the buttery goodness we're overwhelmed with when opening those front doors to the theater is often good enough for me.  I'll never forget the fact I'm in a movie theater.  I can't think of anywhere else I go that has such a strong aroma memory that comes back every time my ancient microwave struggles to pop every last kernel.  
But why have we limited ourselves to popcorn, soda, and giant boxes of candy?  A few years ago J and I went to SXSW in Austin over spring break.  Obviously, it was one of the best times of my life, being immersed in film in a way I'd never known before.  But on top of that, the theater we spent the most time in served a full menu during the film.  Alamo Drafthouse Theater is actually a chain of theaters throughout Texas and one in Virginia (?) that serves a full menu from appetizer to desert.  During the movie, waiters dressed in black scurry back and forth in a shallow aisle in front of your seat and underneath the long table that runs in front of them.  You write down something like, chocolate chip cookies, and low and behold in the middle of the film you smell something delicious.  That something delicious is four hot, gooey cookies sitting right in front of you.  For someone who gets antsy by just seeing someone lean over and talk to a person sitting next to them during a movie, I thought this would drive me crazy.  But the employees of the theater literally have this down to a science that only enhances the theater experience, without ever taking away from it.  God bless America.
So now that theaters are branching out with food, why shouldn't we think this through at home?  Is there anything better than slamming a couple beers while watching "Animal House"?  Or downing a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs during "The Godfather: Part II"?  I think someone should write an entire cookbook dedicated to great DVD and dinner pairings.  Oh wait, somebody already did.  
http://www.amazon.com/Movie-Menus-Recipes-Perfect-Favorite/dp/0812969928/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1243289573&sr=1-1
Geeze, and it even has movie trivia!  
Okay, but how about Netflix?  I bet if local Chinese and Pizza places paid for ads and coupons on the inside of that flap we all throw away (has anyone even tried the 1 free download ad that appears every month?) they would triple their business.  And that would just be from my apartment.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

It's Saturday night... so here's a paper I wrote!

I wrote this paper on "Five Easy Pieces" for my Hollywood in the 1970's class this past semester.  At first, I didn't really have much of an opinion on the film but this is definitely one of those examples of where after reading and listening to a class discussion about it, it finally came together for me.  I wrote a paper about how contrast is used to help characterize Bobby.  Wanna here it?  Here it goes!

Bob Rafelson’s non-traditional film Five Easy Pieces created a great reaction in 1970, and still continues to influence cinema today.  The non-traditionally formatted slice-of-life film was unlike anything else, and Jack Nicholson’s performance as Bobby helped make him a star.  While the plot, or lack there of, of the film is the main thing most people tend to focus on whether they love or hate it, the use of contrast is another element that contributes to the success of the film overall.  From environment, to characters, and even music the stark contrasts that Rafelson employs create interest and reveal even more about Bobby.             
Bobby’s environment is one aspect of the film that changes drastically halfway through.  When we are first introduced to Bobby we see him working out in the desolate oil fields, presumably of Texas.  The wide shots of the hot, dusty land elevate the warm, free feeling of the land.  When Bobby goes home to visit his family in Puget Sound, the environment is cool and rainy with mostly blue and gray tones.  Bobby’s family home is also shot with much tighter angles and physically Bobby is more enclosed, as the house is located on an island accessible only by boat.  Physically Bobby’s environment is very different in the Pacific Northwest as compared to Texas as well.  At home with Rayette, the flow of the house is open and Bobby travels throughout it with command.  Even when Rayette is upset with Bobby, her door is wide open to him.  When Bobby goes home to visit though, we see a very cold and formal house where doors are always closed: often closing on Bobby himself.  The contrast between these two places also help reiterate the theme of Bobby not being happy anywhere as both of these extremes do not seem to be right for him.             
The people who surround Bobby in his life are also elements of great contrast.  The women Bobby is sexually attracted to could not be any different in the film.  Originally, we see Bobby with Rayette, a southern, country girl working as a waitress at a diner.  Although Rayette often speaks her mind without thinking, she continually takes Bobby back despite his awful behavior.  She is constantly being affectionate towards Bobby despite his protests and even though he cannot even say he loves her, she appears to think they will be together forever.  Once Bobby goes home he meets and is soon infatuated with his brother’s fiancĂ©, Catherine.  A clearly well educated woman, Catherine is also a classically trained pianist and spends her free time riding horses.  At first, she is put off by Bobby but once she finally does accept him and they have slept together, she is very casual about it and asks him to leave her room soon after.  Their relationship continues in this style until Catherine ultimately rejects him, saying Bobby does not have love for anything in his life and therefore cannot ask for her love in return.  Even the types of music the women enjoy highlight their differences.  While Rayette listens to the same Tammy Wynette record constantly, Catherine is moved to tears after haring Chopin.  The fact that Bobby is followed by a woman he does not want and obsessed with a woman he cannot have further creates contrast in the film and shows his inability to be happy.             
The women in his life are not the only characters of great contrast Bobby encounters.  Back at the oil fields Bobby’s best friend is Elton, a simple man with an uncontrollable laugh.  Elton married his girlfriend, Stoney, after getting her pregnant but clearly has come to enjoy the family life in his trailer in the rural country.  The last we see of Elton he is being carried off by the police for skipping out on bail after robbing a store.  While Elton appears to be a type of brother to Bobby down south, back home in Puget Sound Bobby’s actual brother is incredibly different from Elton.  Carl is another classically trained pianist, now teaching and engaged to Catherine.  He is a very formal and stiff character who barely interacts at all with Bobby and certainly does not appear to have a close brotherly relationship with him.  Bobby pokes fun at Carl, mimicking his walk, but it is done in a more malicious than joking manner in an attempt to undermine Carl.  While Elton and Carl are characters from opposite ends of the spectrum, Bobby manages to insult the intelligence of both men in different ways, again reiterating Bobby’s inability to be content with anything in his life.            
These two contrasting worlds that Bobby seems to exist in do come into contact at times in the film.  The first time it is clear Bobby is not what he seems is during the traffic jam on the highway after he and Elton are turned away from work.  After his frustration boils over in traffic, Bobby hops aboard the back of an open truck and begins playing classical music on the piano.  The contrast especially clear and present for the audience to see, as it exists in a single frame: a southern oil field worker, still in his hardhat, playing incredible music on the piano.  This scene also serves as a bridge between the two contrasting worlds to which Bobby is the only link.  Another time the two worlds collide is when Rayette shows up at Bobby’s house.  The dinner scene with her and Bobby’s family is one of palpable awkwardness as she loudly rattles on about various things.  It is even more obvious after the scholarly mystic who has visited the house begins to insult Rayette in front of everyone.  The contrast in this scene is more important in terms of Bobby as he finally comes to the defense of Rayette; however, it can be said that he is defending himself and his choice to associate with Rayette more than anything.              
The use of contrast is just one of many elements Rafelson employs to further the success of his film Five Easy Pieces.  Not only does contrast create interest in the story but also serves as a way to reveal more about the main character in a creative way.  By showing Bobby existing in two vastly different worlds, and his inability to find happiness in either, tells the audience that this is a character who probably will not be happy anywhere, without actually telling them that. 

Friday, May 22, 2009

First blog! Woohoo! Oh, and it's about Badlands

I thought I'd start off my first post with something I just went through in terms of the movie watching experience.  I've seen Badlands 3 times, in 3 incredibly different situations.  
My boyfriend, who will probably be mentioned often from here on out since he's an even bigger self-proclaimed movie nerd than I am- although we both have our fair share of guilty pleasures (see future blog post!) was the first person who made me watch Badlands a few years ago.  I remember liking it, but for some reason I forgot about most of it shortly after.  This probably had something to do with the fact I watched it on my tiny, old TV that bleeds all the reds together until it actually burns your eyes a little.  But I don't really remember feeling anything after it was over, or really wanting to talk about it in the days to come.  
This past semester I got to see Badlands the way it was meant to be seen, as my teacher always said, on the big screen in a film print.  This is probably one of the best examples I can think of in terms of how the viewing experience can change what you think about a movie.  I couldn't stop thinking, talking, or reading about Badlands.  I was actually excited to get to class the next week to share these ideas and vehemently defend it from anyone ridiculous enough to bash it!  And trust me, I did.  I briefly considered throwing my shoe at the kid who claimed the opera music was pretentious.  But I didn't.  I couldn't believe how immersed I felt during the film, and it felt like an entirely different movie to me the second time around.  I had completely forgotten about the whole "playing house in the woods" sequence and for some reason Martin Sheen as Kit didn't have nearly the effect on me the first time.  The quality and richness of the audio also helped me appreciate and understand the use of narration by Holly- also one of my favorite elements.  
Next, I decided to give Badlands the ultimate test and show it to a friend, and former film production major himself.  I guess I'd forgotten how great it feels to show somebody a movie you love and watch them enjoy it just as much, or even more than you do.  It seems like I've become so jaded by those awkward experiences where you forget just how weird, inappropriate, and/or terrible a movie really is until you show it to a friend.  Okay, but I swear The Science of Sleep was good when I saw it in the theater!  Something must have changed with the making of the DVD...which is what made my best friend fall asleep during it...  Seeing someone else enjoy the movie for the first time and laugh at the same parts that really crack me up, really secured Badlands into the place of one of my favorite movies.  Not that someone else's opinion should ever take away from how I really feel about a movie, but getting to share the complete joy a film can bring me with someone else makes it that much better.  
This definitely made me wonder how many other movies I passed on after having a less than ideal viewing experience.  I've definitely come out of a bad theater experience (thanks to people talking and yes, even snoring) annoyed and a little disconnected, but still able to appreciate and want to see a film again.  I think in terms of a bigger picture, this is a reason why I don't see movie theaters going anywhere or being replaced by watching movies on your ipod, blackberry, whatchamacallit.  The theater is great, and enjoying the movie with someone else is even better.  
So I think the lesson here, really, is that I need a bigger TV.