National Post (National Edition)
WHY THE CORONAVIRUS MIGHT SPELL THE DEATH OF CINEMA.
EVENTUALITY HAS NOT BEEN DIFFICULT TO SPOT
It’s already hard to believe that people ever smoked on airplanes. In the not-too-distant future, we’ll look back at trained-cetacean shows and wonder what those unenlightened people were thinking.
And sooner than we might think possible, a trip to the cinema could become a historical event, like attending a bear-baiting, a gladiatorial game or a seance. COVID-19 might well be the death of the movies.
When cultural institutions started to shutter due to fears of the spreading coronavirus, it began with major North American sporting events — hockey, baseball, basketball, soccer, etc. Galleries, museums and tourist attractions were next, along with trade shows, conferences and — somewhat reluctantly, it seemed — live theatre.
Cinemas remained the lone holdout. Those in New York and Los Angeles shut only at the order of the mayor of each city, while the giant AMC chain vowed to soldier on, albeit with reduced admissions limiting crowds to 50 per cinema. (Have you seen Bloodshot? That’s 50 too many.) In Canada, Cineplex was similarly stalwart.
Then on Monday, one independent after another closed its doors. Ottawa’s ByTowne, London’s Hyland, the Fox in Toronto, the Globe in Calgary, Halifax’s Carbon Arc and others all released similar statements of regret and apology. Toronto’s Lightbox and Cinesphere had already closed over the weekend.
Late Monday, Cineplex and Landmark, the No. 1 and two chains in Canada, finally announced they too would close, hours ahead of Ontario’s declaration of a state of emergency, which would have ordered them to shut in that province anyway.
The reason cinemas resisted closure is simple. Major-league sporting events are irreplaceable — there’s no experience quite like going to a game. Ditto an art gallery, museum of science or antiquities, or Broadway show. But cinema? There’s been a little black screen trying to chip away at its dominance for close to a century now. Coronavirus could be its death knell.
Granted, movies have been declared mortally wounded before. The advent of television in the 1940s and ’50s was seen as a threat. Then in the 1980s the rise of the home-video market seemed ready to kick cinema to the curb. Ditto the explosion of streaming services over the last decade.
Cinema’s response has always been a variation on More! Better! Louder! The late 1950s and early 1960s saw the rise of epic adventures (think Ben-Hur and Spartacus) and musicals, more colour and wider screens. The 1970s introduced “New Hollywood” directors and blockbusters — Star Wars! Jaws! — rivalling anything on TV. The 1990s saw a renaissance in animated films. And the 2000s brought more Imax movies, more food options, and new seating technology to shake, rattle and roll audiences.
But here’s the thing. Just because cinema has weathered threats doesn’t make it immortal. Mark Twain may have quipped: “The report of my death was an exaggeration” in 1897. But in 1910 the report was bang on.
Studios at first responded to the pandemic by moving release dates further out. The newest James Bond movie, No Time to Die, will now open in November instead of April, and other big releases — A Quiet Place 2, Mulan, The New Mutants, F9 — have similarly delayed their releases.
It’s an expensive decision, given the money that’s already been spent on promotion. But why release a movie when no one wants to go out? Over the weekend of March 13, the North American box office recorded its worst weekend of the century, with $55.3-million in ticket sales. Disney/Pixar’s Onward was the top earner, with just $10.5-million, down 73 per cent from its opening the weekend before.
Then on Monday came the news that NBCUniversal, the studio behind the upcoming Trolls World Tour movie, would release that movie on demand on April 10, the same day as its so-called theatrical release. (There may be movie theatres open in some parts of the world that day, but not likely in Europe, North America or Asia.)
The studio was also mulling on-demand release as early as March 20 of titles that are currently in theatres, including The Hunt, The Invisible Man and Emma. And while the price — $20 for a two-day streaming window — may seem steep when most streaming services cost less for a whole month, consumers starved for entertainment may well pony up. Or more likely, if the situation continues, the studio may find a more palatable price for such offerings.
But it does seem like a genie-out-of-the-bottle moment. For years now, studios and theatres and streaming services have been tussling over release windows, with films like Roma and The Irishman getting limited theatrical release (and Oscar consideration) before going to Netflix, much to the chagrin of purists like Martin Scorsese.
The Trolls decision collapses the distinction. And while it may be considered an emergency measure by a studio desperate to recoup some of its marketing costs, it also provides one more reason to stay home. When this crisis is over, people will go back to the movies — but warily, in fewer numbers, and with less enthusiasm.
There will be retrenchment. In the U.S., when cinema giant AMC announced that it would be closing its venues for at least six weeks, it was noted that one, the historic Uptown in Washington, wouldn’t be reopening ever. It’s unlikely to be the only casualty. The longer the shutdown lasts, the more audiences will realize that, unlike live sports, an art gallery or the view from the CN Tower, there are viable alternatives to a night at the movies.
It gives me no pleasure to write this. In fact, it’s taken me several days to marshal my thoughts and wonder if I was, like the New York Journal reporter of 1897, misinformed. I am eager for a modern Twain to correct me in the months to come. But I fear the writing is on the screen.
There is a silver lining, mind you. Film festivals, like live theatre, concerts and conferences, still have a value and exert a pull that cannot be replicated in any kind of virtual reality. Even now, the Cannes festival has bravely declared it will go ahead in May — pending a decision on Apr. 15 that most people can already predict. But if Cannes 2020 is cancelled — only the second such disruption, after the Nazis (1939) and the student protests (1968) forced it to close — expect Cannes 2021 to be a go.
And the cinematic experience won’t vanish overnight. It could even experience a vinyl-like bounce, at least for a while. And I for one will be one of the holdouts, like a modern-day hobbyist re-enacting a battle from a long-decided war. As long as there’s a place to watch movies in the dark, and as long as it’s safe to do so, I’ll be there. That’s not an exaggeration.
THERE IS A SILVER LINING. FESTIVALS STILL HAVE VALUE.