blogcutter

How have film-going habits changed since the start of the pandemic? Or have they really changed at all? Maybe they've just continued along the same inexorable path from the silver screen to the smartphone-screen?

So many of the arts have gone from being large group experiences to ridiculously individualized ones. I'm thinking of gallery-going and vernissages, concert-going and music festivals, live theatre and, of course, film. Even TV, which started out very household-based, has gone from families all gathering around the "boob tube" at the same time to recording and viewing later or streaming at whatever time is convenient for the individual. I suppose reading has always been a mainly solitary activity, although there's still room for book clubs, in-class discussions and the like.

But back to film. What prompts today's post is the recent news that the Bytowne Cinema on Rideau Street will be closing for good at the end of this month:

https://myemail.constantcontact.com/All-good-things-must-come-to-an-end.html?soid=1102316637554&aid=4DEbLzGBozc&fbclid=IwAR2M5-JRoxuJzjxkzc-5lLA4KEVWPP4PkzrOtdldFBA8y7Q3vCvfwstitRc

The premises themselves were the old Nelson, where I saw a number of first-run movies over the course of my childhood. But when it re-opened as the Bytowne, it was a repertory cinema and a re-incarnation of sorts of the old Towne Cinema on Beechwood Avenue. I would actually have thought that repertory film in general might survive, given that it always involved a number of older classic films as well as somewhat obscure independent and foreign films that you can't just watch anywhere and any time. We do still have the Mayfair - I hope that survives.

I'm also concerned about the wonderful second-hand bookshop next door to the Bytowne. I don't know if it has remained open during the pandemic as I haven't tried to go in. Certainly it's the sort of place where physical distancing would be a challenge! With any luck, maybe it will be bought out and preserved by a few loyal and well-heeled patrons, just as happened with Books on Beechwood?

One of the advantages of being retired from the 9-to-5 ratrace is being able to see lots of movies, often during the day (when they're cheaper and less crowded).

One recently-watched movie is Side Effects. A number of my friends and family members have suffered from depression and many were prescribed SSRIs, so I was intrigued to see how the subject would be handled cinematically (and fictionally - it's not a documentary but more of a thriller). There has been some concern that some of the popular SSRIs on the market can actually lead to suicidal thoughts and behaviour, particularly in young people. The movie is about a young woman, Emily Taylor (ably portrayed by Rooney Mara, who played The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in the US version of the movie), who after having been prescribed SSRI's, commits certain (ostensibly) self-destructive and violent acts, culminating in the killing of her husband. Her psychiatrist, who initially seems a bit too good to be true, fights hard to get her declared not guilty by reason of insanity. But later he starts second-guessing himself and alienating just about everyone in his immediate circle. In the best thriller tradition, you're not quite sure who are the good guys and who are the bad guys, who is sane and who is insane - not that those categories are totally black and white. Along the way, there are implicit comments about the ethics of drug trials, the pharmaceutical system and the legal system. There's plenty of moral ambiguity. Does the end necessarily justify the means? Is it okay to lie and perjure yourself in court in order to expose the lies and deceptions of others? The conclusions that the movie seemed to imply were not altogether satisfying to me but as already mentioned, the film was intended primarily to entertain or create suspense rather than to inform or educate.

And speaking of suspense, we also recently went to a film about the master of suspense, Alfred Hitchcock, and the making of Psycho. Except that actual sets and scenes from Psycho could not be shown (for copyright reasons, I presume) so they had to focus on other things like Hitchcock's dreams (or nightmares) and the audience reaction to the film once it's released. Even so, it was very well done, with some scenes that were actually quite funny. Hitchcock complains at one point that the only thing worse than a visit to the dentist is a visit to the censor. The censor gets quite preoccupied with the amount of on-screen nudity that will be allowed during the shower scene and with the fact that a toilet is shown in the film (when the heroine tries to flush away evidence of having misappropriated money from her bank). Yet ironically, Hitchcock was himself practising censorship on a massive scale, insisting that all copies of Robert Bloch's book (on which the movie was based) be bought up and borrowed from public libraries, and that even the actors be sworn to secrecy and prevented from seeing the full script until just before they delivered their lines - all to prevent audiences from knowing the ending until they actually saw it on screen! Did Hitchcock and his wife actually sleep in separate beds, as portrayed in the film? Or was that a kind of nudge-nudge, wink-wink nod to the sensibilities of 1960-era TV sitcoms, where married couples were typically shown in separate beds (if they were shown in the bedroom at all)?

Other films we've been to lately: Les Miserables; The Hobbit (NOT in 3D); Anna Karenina; all worthy films in their own way, but any further remarks I make about them will have to wait for another day.