I have been thinking about what I call Covid-Cinema, a term to define all that the entertainment industry has faced for the last eight months or so: postponed releases, production shutdowns, theater closings, the new safety protocol before starting/resuming, and of course what movies and shows that have been released – whether completed prior to covid or inspired by covid.
To best comprehend the bigger picture, I’d like to first share my story. It’s only one example out of the millions of others who have also experienced transitioning from the before normality to the current strangeness, and I won’t usually be this personal in future posts, but hoping this can serve as a starting point.
Last month I regretfully cancelled my AMC Theater membership. It had been on pause during the pandemic, not charging me the monthly fee. It was wonderful to have while it lasted.
Up to three movies a week for any screening time, as long as
there was a seat available.
I would regularly go to the 67th Street AMC, or to the 42nd Street/Times Square AMC in Manhattan.
My final visit to an AMC theater was the last Sunday morning of February 2020.
I had been out-and-about the night before, eating at Buffalo Wild Wings (from recently being obsessed with Sean Evans' Hot Ones series) at Times Square. Deciding to walk the brisk eight blocks south for a late screening of Call of the Wild starring Harrison Ford – that my mom recommended – the 34th Street AMC was still open despite the massive renovations being done. So instead, I had the impulse to leave the theater, rush around the corner to the 8th Ave. LIRR entrance, and with moments to spare, made the train headed to my mom’s place.
To be honest, that Saturday night’s excursion was supposed to take my mind off a difficult week culminating in a case of mistaken identity. So yeah, I needed to see my mom to vent.
Waking up on the couch in her living room Sunday morning, feeling much better, I treated us to reserved seats at her neighborhood’s AMC theater for Call of the Wild. It being a 10am matinee, no one else was there except the staff hanging out at their ticket and concession stations.
Afterwards we went for lunch.
The coronavirus had already been in the news for a month, and hand sanitizer had already been hard to find but not much was unusual except the sense of people taking extra precautions. The restaurant hostess sat parties with at least an empty table in-between.
I hugged my mom goodbye and walked over to the train station, with plans to celebrate her birthday a few weeks later.
But everything happened so fast. NYC went into lockdown, and I didn’t see her in-person again until the last Sunday in July.
Going to the movie theater was practically part of my weekly routine. It was an incredible immediate loss. Of course I’ve had monthly subscriptions to streaming platforms to rely upon for entertainment at home, but going to the movie theater after work or on a weekend, was an affordable escape; a mini-vacation into whatever story was on the screen. Much of my life was lived vicariously through all those characters across the settings of the world – on the big screen!
Now relegated to my 13-inch laptop screen, I haven’t watched these many movies (and television shows) since my early days as a film student, binging all that the local and college libraries would let me rent.
From my room, while watching whatever titles I had put off or were just released, even knowing that all of their productions wrapped well before the coronavirus was spreading, I had the most strange thought that never before occurred. I cringed seeing how close all of the people were to each other, not wearing masks, and not keeping 6 feet apart. Their conversations, gestures, affections, and touching all those surfaces without washing their hands afterwards put me in great distress.
My mind was seeing the actors portraying the characters in the normal world as it all once was for all of us: exercising at the gym, crowded bars, packed sports arenas, dinner parties, office water-cooler conversations. And though, a film world can be considered an alternate reality, I considered that when productions start again, would those stories pretend the virus didn’t exist or would they incorporate the social distancing into scenes? But regardless of what happens in-front of the rolling camera, the protocol behind the scenes was going to logistically intensify.
As the AMPTP and entertainment unions have (finally) come to an agreement for safety-on-set, independent filmmakers will adapt those rules for their own productions. Stories that have long been in-development and pre-production stages will not be rewritten to exist in a coronavirus reality. But television’s writing rooms for the upcoming season has more flexibility to do so. Grey’s Anatomy, This Is Us, and other prime-time series have committed to its incorporation. Daytime soap-operas may not, yet, but might once their timelines catch-up.
From March to August, I continued working 5 days a week to evaluate the short and ultra-low projects assigned to me as to whether or not they can be cleared for performers to commence services. These small budgeted filmmakers found ways to still make their movies safely with minimal to no in-person contact between cast and crew, mostly taking advantage of self-taping capabilities and especially simplifying their stories to its most necessary components. It was incredibly inspiring to witness; like watching a flower sprout, grow, and bloom out of a crack in the sidewalk. These filmmakers gave me daily purpose and hope knowing that this industry adapts and continues despite all the setbacks its currently facing.
We are still in the midst of watching the majority of released movies and television shows that have yet to capture this year’s covid experience. And yet for those that have, have only piecemeal expressed the emotional range from our existential dilemmas, household struggles, and community strife. These slices-of-life from mostly privileged perspectives, and themes of overcoming challenges by holding onto hopes for urgent return to normalcy while the too true hardships have been unacknowledged.
Perhaps the more immediate and accurate showing of life in our covid times, are in commercials and PSAs. Quick to produce and quick to air, their characters and stories are meant to reflect life now and how their featured product or service can help people ASAP. Showing the most diversity, having the most reach, portraying the universal, and playing to the emotions – all within 30 seconds.
Upcoming Covid-Cinema posts will explore:
- How fictional movies and television have at least attempted to meet the challenge to show how we live now - which may be ongoing as series premieres will returns in the coming months.
- How non-fictional entertainment programming has adapted to covid-times; like late night comedy and children's shows
- How we perceive all that had been filmed prior to covid but was released in a covid-world
- How Hollywood and the world's film production centers have tried to keep a covid-safe set
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