Given filmmaking's reputation as an inherently Risky Business, it comes as no surprise to learn this week that studio sets and sound stages are among the most dangerous professional environments that a C&G 2330 qualified electrician might be expected to work in. As in any industry, accidents will happen, and they invariably do. One need only remember that even cinema's greats have so suffered for their art. In 1919, for example, Harold Lloyd lost a thumb and finger on set at the hands of a faulty prop-bomb; in 2003, Harrison Ford was involved in an automobile accident having insisted, once again, on "doing his own stunts"; and, only three years prior in 2000, Bruce Willis made Unbreakable.
And yet, whilst the perilous working conditions within the industry are well documented, little attention has hitherto been paid to the equally precarious activity of going to the movies. In line with the classical star-centric approach that has dominated film criticism, scholarship and much fan-produced media for the majority of the cinema's history, accident reportage and analysis has remained firmly focussed upon the mishaps of the contracted and creative - virtually ignoring the role audiences have played and continue to play in the calamitous cinematic act.
Now, following the advent and subsequent rise of the internet over the past ten years, this secret history of auditorial agony is beginning to find it's own voice within the filmic community. Reflecting recent developments within film academia that have sought to address and attribute meaning to spectatorial experience, questions of patronal mis-peradventure are increasingly taking precedence over issues of form and context to such an extent that scholars are referring to this emerging field as the "new haptics", the "new new feminism" and the "new new new psychoanalysis". Outside of the academy, however, such interest has failed to 'trickle down' into the mainstream cultural sphere. With this in mind, troubleismyblog intends here to highlight the inherent dangers faced by today's moviegoer, and ask what is more, what will it take to achieve a 'cinema of safety'?
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We began our research by arranging a meeting with the Bfi's Chief risk-assessment consultant, Simon Bonaventure (Sb). Now six years into his tenure, he describes the issue of cinema safety as film's "forgotten child", too often relegated by theater managers to a second or third priority issue behind concessions sales and ticket revenue. "The way I see it" asserts SB, "it doesn't matter how many tickets you sell or medium cartons of sweet, sweet popcorn you supply to the customer, if Joe Public falls over an ill-fitted carpet or excessively sticky plastic floor and chips a tooth in the process, he isn't going to come back again and he's certainly not going to pay over the odds for a pack of generic wine gums his teeth can no longer handle.." Questioned further as to whether he felt DVD's domination of the market was to blame for the lack of investment being put into the safety sector, SB replied: "it's not even an issue.... sure, DVD has affected the popularity of theatrical presentation and revenues have fallen, but that's just something both the large chain cinemas and the independent picturehouses are having to deal with. Truth is, as much as anybody likes to see films on the big screen with surround sound and a half-hour of commercials, they know that when it comes to safety, they're less likely to get a dead-leg from knocking into their own couch than if they collided with a plastic cupholder armrest at the Odeon...these are the types of problems that we here at the Bfi are hoping to assist cinema proprietors with."
In an effort to substantiate Bonaventure's claims, troubleismyblog contacted three such theater managers, each representing a certain sector of the theatrical market. From the first-run chain division, we contacted James Kelly (JK), shift-manager at the VUE multiplex, Islington. From the alt.cinema and foreign sector we spoke to Susan Tristram (ST), head programmer at the Curzon Soho and co-founder of Temeritas, an organisation designed to "raise awareness of the latent dangers specific to art-house cinemas". In addition, as representative for the repertory scene we chose Edward G. Folsam (EGF), trustee for the Prince Charles Cinema, London. Also in attendance was Dr. Constance Murray (CM), lecturer in film spectatorship, De Montford University.
Our first question to the panel was simple: "what experiences have you had -at any given time- of patronal mishap at your particular cinema?". The replies given were illuminating. Clearly contravening company protocol, JK was first to offer an answer: " We used to get alot, particularily on the weekends when the new releases are in their first runs. People get tanked upon on Sprite and Cola and just can't control themselves; next thing you know the picture's 45 minutes in and Johnny needs the bathroom. He's going to have to climb over a lot of legs to get there - accidents are going to happen. However, since stadium seating's come along it's been less of a problem, not to mention that it's now company policy to put 'cat's eyes' in the aisles and exits at both front and back".
In response, ST emphasised her alternative standpoint: "We get perhaps 20-30 'headovers' in a week, as well as 5-10 instances of doors being opened in patron's faces. As far as we're concerned it's less about the measures you can take to prevent these accidents than the films themselves. We find that when we show foreign pictures or films considered to require a greater cognitive engagement from the viewer, the rate of incidence greatly increases. In order to grasp a given director's use of symbolism or intertextual referencing (eg.), moviegoers are concentrating way beyond their natural placebo levels. Once the presentation has concluded, they're often still trying to figure out that final tracking shot or incidental line of dialogue and that's when accidents happen. In fact, just this week we've launched an initiative to help the public with this matter with our "let physical catch up with mental" campaign. What we're telling people is that just by staying and watching the credits at the end of the show you give your motor-neurones a chance to reclaim some of the mental energy required to negotiate standing, walking, opening doors and avoiding other patrons. Of course, in an ideal world people would leave in an orderly fashion, one at a time and so on, but what with extended licensing hours, you just can't expect that to happen."
To many of us here, this notion that the complexity of a given film might affect a spectator's ability to leave safely seemed bizarre. However, to both CM and EDG it merely lent confirmation to ideas they themselves had had. "It doesn't surprise me, not one bit" responded EDG, "We've been aware of this for years and have acted accordingly. Firstly, we've lowered our bar prices so that any incidents can be blamed on a pervasive 'binge-drinking' culture. Secondly, when it comes to double bills, we've tried to provide films that balance out. For example, this weekend we're showing Resnais' L'Annee Derniere a Marienbad followed by Arnold Schwarzenegger in Last Action Hero. Something for the head, something for the heart, that's been our rationale."
"It's a wise move" agrees CM. "For years known we've been trying to establish a concrete link in our research between folly and falling, and we're finally coming close. As it appears to us, films that provide only minimal intellectual stimulation seem to carry a reduced degree of risk when compared with their art-house counterparts. Cheaper By The Dozen 2 is a perfect example. We all know the setup, the gags, and the physical comedy that Steve Martin brings to all of his roles; throughout the course of the picture, the audience is, at varying intervals, required to suspend belief in the governing physical laws of pain, logic and emotion. Whilst this may unnerve anyone unfamiliar with the genre (Screwball? ed.), an experienced viewer will be well aware that implausible hilarity is only a dog-biting-crotch joke away, and thus remains mentally unperturbed. Around ten minutes from the end, individuals are well aware that the final kiss is moments away and are already mentally rehearsing their exit from the auditorium. Compare this with the reaction you might expect from an audience member following the final scene of Jean Pierre Melville's Le Samourai and the problem becomes self evident. Viewers are too busy asking themselves why Jeff Costello went to the club in the first place if he didn't intend to kill the jazz singer, why the drummer returns for a small solo and how can they relate conceptually to Melville's use of colour. Thus, in many cases, patrons are often find themselves so caught up in the process of forming philosophical conclusions to espouse in the bar afterwards that they neglect to concentrate on the physical process of leaving. The irony here, of course, is that you are far less likely to fall down after watching a film like Joel Schumacher's Falling Down than you are after making it through Fellini's La Dolce Vita."
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As our investigation demonstrates, the issue of cinema safety is far from resolved. Whilst conscientious programming and attentive staff can go some way to alleviate the problem, it is at the level of film production that action needs to be taken. Happily, Hollywood has responded accordingly, swiftly commissioning remakes and sequels of popular tv shows and films from decades past, and sticking rigidly to generic templates in the interests of our safety. Of course, whether or not this will affect the alt.cinema circuit remains to be seen. General consensus is, that when it comes to your wellbeing at the cinema, the Art Houses have, as did Ferris Bueller, taken a Day Off.
