"What type of movies do you like?"
It's a fantastic question. I'm a real devotee. It's simple and personal without being excessively either. I wield it universally.
First date: Great icebreaker. Gives her something to talk about so she can stop nervously picking at her veal piccata.
Big interview: Absolutely. As long as you're the interviewer. Turning the tables on the one asking the questions never goes as well as you'd think. Take note, CSOM-ers.
Stranger on the T: Specifically the homeless guy sitting next to you talking about cheese and wizards. Break that train of thought - it's not doing him or anyone else any good. Plus you know he's got himself a killer Netflix queue.
Give the question a whirl. People like to talk about movies, and it's good to talk to people (at least according to the head doctors). Somehow movies are less intrusive than asking about musical taste. Ask a person about their genre of choice, and that question is going to get dodged 50 percent of the time. "Oh, I like all sorts." I'm sure that's true, and it's good you don't exclusively listen to ABBA, but let's get more specific, shall we? "You know … just whatever's on the radio …" Lie. No one listens to the radio. Damn Steve Jobs for that.
[I'd like to take this moment to personally endorse WZBC. Truly wonderful programming. Keep it up, gang.]
Movies, though; people will gab about movies for minutes on end. And as they yammer on about how moved they were by Slumdog Millionaire, you're learning about them. It's the same way with countries. The U.S. box office can reveal as much about a country as it can a person. I think that's called a macrocosm. Just like that golden question can expose that your date is fascinating, your interviewee is boring, or that the homeless cheese wizard is, in fact, a bit unhinged; a weekend box office reveals more than you would expect about the mood of a nation.
After our economy was sent to the financial time-out chair, one of the few thriving markets was the entertainment industry - specifically the film industry. The music industry has been floundering for almost a decade. Blame Napster for that one. Thankfully, as people's stock portfolios spontaneously combusted, they felt the urge to see some films. Last March, when the economy was near rock-bottom, film revenues were up 18 percent. In an industry that rakes in close to 10 billion annually, that's a big difference. The box office had been tanking for years, but last winter, it celebrated an upswing. The movie theatre was cheap escapism. For 10 bucks, the country could enjoy 91 minutes of Paul Blart: Mall Cop.
I won't hate on the selection. No one said escapism led to high-brow decision making. Paul Blart's success did point to an interesting new phenomenon at the box office, though: a conspicuous lack of star power. Increasingly, it seems celebrity muscle has dragged less and less derrières to the theater seats. Sure, Kevin James has had a decent run, but he's no Brad Pitt. Next was Taken: a foreign-directed action movie helmed by Liam Neeson. The film's surprise success reignited Neeson's career, which had been quiet since that garbage Star Wars movie. What the two underdog movies shared was a sense of normalcy. Fundamentally, Neeson was a retired guy with an estranged daughter and James was a blue collar Joe trying to do his job. By all accounts, neither film should have been the hit it was, but the public was in an odd mood. As normal people fled their own lives for a few hours, they chose to watch the lives of other (mostly) normal people. The movies are almost realistic, just with that sliver of cinematic fiction to them. They were close enough to be comforting, but removed enough to be distracting. Seems like Americans are not relating to the movie stars anymore.
Reading down a list of last weekend's box office, not a star is to be found until number four - Law Abiding Citzens, starring Gerard Butler. You know … the guy from 300. Taking the number one spot by a seven million dollar margin was Paranormal Activity. By any definition, Paranormal Activity was a student film. It had no name actors a no name director, and a simple script. The film had one thing going for it: plot. It was about a normal couple that was haunted by something spooky. Also, it was frightening as all hell. Once again, Americans spent their dollars on watching people like themselves operate in bizarre situations. It's almost like reality TV, only it's not reality, and it's not TV. Evidently, people relish the chance to see themselves on the silver screen. Or at least people like themselves. Maybe Americans are realizing movie stars just aren't that much like them after all. The star's faces are familiar, but their lives aren't. And while an audience might not necessarily recognize a mall security guard, a divorced dad with a gun, or a terrified couple, they understand them. There's something comforting in familiarity.
The economy has been on its best behavior lately and it might get out of time-out soon, but my money is still on the every-day man. I think the industry will increasingly green-light movies without star power because Americans care less than they used to. This just tickles the studio execs pink. It might be better, but the economy still isn't great, so they need to cut back where they can and if George Clooney's $15,000,000 per movie salary doesn't return for them, they're going to cut him loose. That's a good thing. Maybe. Because, what does it say about us? Does our cinematic narcissism suggest that Americans are struggling more than ever to relate with people unlike ourselves? Could be. Or maybe movies are just movies.
Either way, next time you ask your date, prospective employee, or hobo "What type of movies do you like?" maybe the person will cut through the small talk and answer honestly.
"Movies about me."
Benjamin Key is a staff columnist for The Heights. He welcomes comments at bkey@bcheights.com.
Be the first to comment on this article!