The ArcLight & Landmark theaters: Cinephile paradise or giant ripoff?

Don’t know about where you live but here in El-Lay we now have state-of-the-art movie complexes. Reserved seating, plush leather seats, designer concessions, all kinds of amenities to make you forget you’re paying more than top dollar to see LIONS FOR LAMBS. Giant screens, stereo sound, THX. Everything a theatergoer could possibly want other than a rewrite. And before and after the film there are cafes, bars, a gift shop (LIONS FOR LAMBS action figures?), and even concierges. (“Excuse me, could you tell where I might rent a car during the show?”)

You’re not going to a movie, you’re having a complete “cinematic experience”.

The first one of these multi-screen modern movie palaces locally was the ArcLight in Hollywood. I’ve only been there once but it was quite lovely. Parking was confusing and expensive and getting to Hollywood is always an ordeal (and all the while you’re thinking to yourself “I must be passing six other theaters showing the same damn movie”) but the ArcLight doesn’t show commercials so it’s almost worth it.

However they do charge a pretty penny. From what I understand, beginning in December tickets will be $16. That’s right. One-six. For movies that will be on American Airlines in two months.

Slightly less expensive is the new challenger, the Landmark on the Westside. My wife and I went to see BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU’RE DEAD there this weekend and this was our experience.

Free parking in a well-lit structure underneath. So far so good.

Buying tickets is like checking into the Bellagio. A long counter manned by three high school honor students. And a long snaking line that moves like molasses because each person takes five minutes to process. You have to select your movie, the time, pick out your seat from the seating chart. If there’s an older couple that’s an hour right there. (“What about here?” “No, too close.” “What about here?” “Feh!” “Can we just go in and decide and then come back?”)

And then the credit card transaction, and God forbid someone has a pass and needs to fill out a form. Next time I order online, even if that takes ten minutes and by mistake I’ve rented a condo in Hilton Head.

Matinee tickets: $11. Not terrible when you consider how much money we drop at Starbucks.

There are many cheery ushers, ticket takers, and concession clerks in smart uniforms. It’s like the UP WITH PEOPLE group all got daytime jobs. The candy counter features tony yogurt, mushroom on wheat pizzas, kosher hot dogs, Japanese biscuit sticks, Australian chocolate biscuits, pretzel sticks with choice of raspberry wasabi, apricot ginger, or champagne garlic gourmet mustard. I had popcorn and a drink. $9.

There’s mood lighting in the restroom – why, I don’t know. Do randy couples slip out of movies and scamper to the bathrooms to join the “Ten Feet Above Sea Level Club”?

Skipped the bar and lounge, which seemed more suited to LAX than a multiplex.

Most of the theaters have stadium seating. You better sit in one of the top rows because the lower rows are underneath the screen. From the first row you can almost kick the screen. They’d have to sell Japanese biscuits laced with marijuana for me to sit in one of those seats.

And then there are the “living room seating” theaters. Leather loveseats instead of chairs. Lucky us, we had drawn one of those. But they’re not just loveseats for two. There are also loveseats for three. That’s what we got assigned to. Debby, and me…and some fat guy. We complained to our usher, (Kenneth from 30 ROCK) and after much hand wringing he moved us to a couch for two.

Kenneth told us the idea for this living room arrangement was (a) to cater to the young date night crowd (who goes out on dates of three?) and (b) to simulate your living room experience. This I don’t get. Why would I want to pay big bucks to approximate sitting in my own house watching a DVD I can rent for pennies? And I never have to move over to give the fat guy room.

The previews began and you couldn’t hear them. Someone complained and the volume was raised to the threshold of pain. After the previews the lights went down, the feature began, two seconds later the lights went back on and you could hardly see the screen. And to make matters worse, it was a sex scene. A naked Marissa Tomei and I couldn’t see shit! Movie night at camp had more reliable equipment than this! The screen went blank. The lights went down, the picture came back, the sound was too low and had to be adjusted, and finally, after Marissa had put her top back on, we were able to watch the movie.

I live in a town of luxury boxes, stadium clubs, VIP sections, exclusive clubs. Everyone has to be special, privileged, “on the list”. And they’re willing to way overpay to get it. I go to a movie theater to see a movie, not to hoist a few, not to Christmas shop, not to sample the great biscuits of the world.

I can’t imagine a movie coming out that I would be willing to spend $16 to see. Unless Marissa Tomei was in the loveseat with me. Of course, my wife would want to be there too. Hey, maybe couches for three isn’t such a bad idea.

"No one earns! As much as Burns!"

INT. MR. BURNS' OFFICE – DAY

SMITHERS ENTERS TO FIND MR. BURNS AT HIS DESK.

SMITHERS: You rang for me, sir?

BURNS: Smithers! What is that infernal racket outside?

SMITHERS: There’s a big rally. The writers are striking.

BURNS: Writers?! I have writers?

SMITHERS: Yes, sir. Remember you bought that network and studio so you’d get invited to David Geffen’s Passover Seder?

BURNS: I thought there’d be girls!

SMITHERS: I’m working on that Playboy Mansion invite but so far they’ll only let you go during the day.

BURNS: Drat! And now I’m stuck entertaining the worthless masses?

SMITHERS: If it’s any consolation, sir, no one is watching since you made Ann Coulter your nightly news anchor.

BURNS: Excellent. (THEN) Well, all this noise is distracting. I’m trying to do this morning’s “Tangle Towns”.

SMITHERS: They won’t be quiet, sir. I’ve asked.

BURNS: Then have them killed! I’m doing “Tangle Towns” for godsakes!

SMITHERS: Uh, we really can’t do that.

BURNS: I own nuclear power plants. Can’t we just respond with a small loaded missile?

SMITHERS: Unfortunately, sir, it would wipe out the entire population of the city.

BURNS: Still! It would send a message.

SMITHERS: We could perhaps negotiate with them?

BURNS: What?! When I could let them suffer, lose their saving and homes instead? What good is busting the anti-trust laws if I can’t squash the defenseless?

SMITHERS: Well, the strike will put a dent in the network and studio profits.

BURNS: Is Korea still buying my Plutonium?

SMITHERS: Yes.

BURNS: Then who cares if America doesn’t get its precious “TV shows”? It’s time someone invented some alternate form of entertainment whose patent we can steal anyway.

SMITHERS: We’re looking into the internet.

BURNS: The internet? Yes. I’ve heard good things. Can’t I just buy that?

SMITHERS: The internet is a worldwide system of computer networks that allows users to send and receive information from other computers. It’s interconnected around the globe.

BURNS: So you’re saying I have to wait three years.

SMITHERS: More like four but yes. It’s this internet that is the sticking point in this writers strike.

BURNS: They can’t have it! It’s mine!

SMITHERS: No, they don’t want it all, sir. Just a tiny piece. They believe that when they write something that we make huge profits from they deserve a small compensation.

BURNS: What?! Ridiculous!! This is the twisted handiwork of Homer Simpson, isn’t it? It’s just the sort of harebrained idea he would hatch. Imagine, writers thinking they have rights to their creation! Don’t we have individual nuclear missiles?

SMITHERS: No, sir.

BURNS: Well, what can we do to shut them up?!

SMITHERS: Nothing. They’re a feisty bunch. We’ve tried scare tactics, we’ve threatened to sue, gotten them to the negotiating table under false pretenses, used the media – which we own – to offer a distorted view to the public. And still they come, in seemingly larger numbers.

BURNS: Fine. Then hand me my airhorn.

SMITHERS DOES. BURNS GOES TO THE WINDOW. A LONG BEAT, THEN:

BURNS: Well open it you idiot.

SMITHERS: Sorry, sir.

SMITHERS OPENS THE WINDOW. BURNS TURNS ON THE AIRHORN, AND BEGINS ADDRESSING THE CROWD.

BURNS: Attention, writers. I will never give in. I don’t need you! Any of you! Do you understand! I don’t need writers! And I never will! Ever! Ever ever ever! (BEAT) Listen, while I have your attention – can anyone tell me a town in Wisconsin that has an ‘n’ an ‘m’ and five ‘o’s?

Day 5

What a huge turnout on Friday for the strike rally at Fox. I had to park in the next area code. Are there any major studios across the street from Dodger Stadium?
Everyone was there. Including my buddy, Paul Haggis.
Avenue of the Stars became Avenue of the Scribes and a few Stars for about an hour. I understand Radiohead or Rage Against the Machine or Ronny & the Daytonas did a set. I didn’t hear them. I also understand there were speeches. Didn’t hear a word. Every so often people would cheer and I would too. I’m sure if I had heard what was being said I would’ve been enthusiastically supportive.

We were hardly what you would call an unruly mob. CAA assistants circulated with trays of churros. You hear stories of how assistants in talent agency mailrooms are forced to do the most humiliating degrading things but serving churros to writers? Oh the horror! The humanity!
I said hi to at least twenty-five former colleagues who had no idea who I was.

My policy was to not show pictures with celebrities but damn, Sharon Lawrence looks absolutely incredible! A couple of cast members from RENO 911 were there…in costume.

A street musician was playing the sax on Pico Blvd. I gave him a dollar. My agency took a dime out of the cup.

As we all moved towards Pico to begin the picketing portion of the day it looked like the start of a marathon with the most out of shape runners in history.
The rah-rah guys were given a weapon more dangerous than guns – airhorns. They tried to lead us in some inspirational chants. Of course no one went along. However, when the police announced they were closing Pico Blvd. for us a huge spontaneous cheer of “LAPD! LAPD!” arose. These are the same people that 40 years ago were yelling “PIGS! PIGS!”

What we really should be chanting is “SHOWRUNNERS! SHOWRUNNERS!” Their courage in standing up to the networks and studios is nothing short of heroic.

Thanks to Howard Hoffman and Tom Straw for the photos.

Now I must get out of the way before I’m trampled by a news camera crew trying to get to Kelsey Grammer.

Tomorrow: My SIMPSONS parody on the strike.

The 12,000 man march on Pico

Pictured: Fearless leader Pat Verrone with Late Late Show writers: Joe Strazullo, David Harte, Verrone, Joe O’Brien, John Reynolds, and Tom Straw.

Friday the entire guild membership will converge on Fox (10201 Pico Blvd. in Century City) at 10 AM. Everyone is instructed to wear red. The hope is to attract a large non industry crowd by posing as a pep rally for the Los Angeles Angels.

Some of the major agencies have been providing food to the picketers. Large pizzas with one slice missing.

Michael Eisner has proclaimed our strike “stupid”. The former Disney Grand Poo Bah who hired and fired Michael Ovitz to the tune of $95 million says there’s no profits in online delivery systems. Meanwhile, he’s now head of a private investment firm that’s just launched an online video studio. Even Goofy and Dopey can see the irony here. Eisner is like the guy who kills his parents then asks for leniency because he’s an orphan.

From a fellow scribe: “I see where Hillary, Edwards and Obama have all come out with statements siding with the writers. Yet I haven't even seen one instance in which a Republican candidate has even been asked the QUESTION. Kind of perfect, really.”

Meanwhile, it only took Jesse Jackson three days to get his canned-ham-for-a-face in a picture on the strike line. Of course he showed up at 5:00 just as the march was ending. The man can find a photo-op like a pig can find truffles.

Thanks to Tom Straw for the photos.

The stars that REALLY support the strike will be the ones walking the line in a month. Sending gift baskets from the Grand Wailea on Maui doesn’t count.

There’s all this concern over whether the Oscarcast will be affected by the strike (and by concern I mean from idiots). Interestingly, no one is worried about the Golden Globes, which actually precede the Oscars. I believe the Oscarcast will not only air as planned but because ABC will be so desperate for original content by then, it will expand from three to fifteen hours. If your speech is too short music will come on prodding you to stay on the stage.

No one has handed a writer a script on line yet. But you know that’s coming. Some clown will ask Robert Towne to read their spec GIRLFRIENDS.

The Writers Strike website asked me the following question: A couple days of striking is fun. When does it start to hurt?

Answer: The picketing? Mile eight. Seriously, I worry that being asked to do too much picketing is going to burn the membership out. We need to be judicious after the first week in just how often and for what length of time we plan these demonstrations. Too much picketing can lower morale. Plus, it does no one any good to have five lonely protesters at Paramount for an afternoon and three more exhausted at the AstroBurger at Melrose & Gower. .

Producers would have you believe all writers make $200,000 a year. First of all, 5,000 of the 12,000 WGA members are not working at all. So their salary is considerably less. Secondly, the average writer makes $20,000 not $200,000. On the other hand, how much do all the non-writing producers and artist managers make? Y’know, the ones who attach themselves to projects like leeches. If their average salary is $400,000 it’s low.

Non writing producers will never strike because no one would ever know they’re gone. Production would increase, not decrease.

Meanwhile, our Governator, the former actor and ex-LABOR leader, has chosen to do nothing.

Can someone get out of jury duty by saying they have to picket?

Can someone get out of picketing by saying they have jury duty?

See you at Fox Friday at 10. I’ll be the one wearing red.

Strike report: Day Three

For a delightful change of pace I decided to picket at CBS Radford on Wednesday. This tradition-rich San Fernando Valley institution has produced thousands of TV series and Sonja Henie ice skating movies.

The streets inside the lot are named for various shows that filmed there. “Gunsmoke Street”, “Mary Tyler Moore Ave.”, etc. In the spirit of accuracy they should now rename those streets “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels Drive”, “Shaft Ave.”, “Other People’s Money Street”.

There were more bakery goods here than at 20th Century Fox. A number of writers were eating doughnuts while on line. Doesn’t that defeat the “exercise and cardiovascular” benefit of marching? Actor Gary Sinese made homemade cookies. They were delicious!

I walked behind a dog for about an hour. His last job was writing HERE’S BOOMER but God love him he was there supporting the new generation.

At least it was 75 degrees and sunny. Protesting writers in New York are freezing their asses off. How important are our east coast brothers and sisters? Look how much smarter Fred Thompson was when the LAW & ORDER writers were putting words in his mouth.

A woman was actually marching in stilettos. That's something you don't see at a Teamster's strike.

Every picture of the strikers I see in any publication includes at least one actor. It’s always a shot of Maura Tierney and John Stamos and a bunch of signs (us) behind them. But here’s the picture they should be using: A little boy of about six or seven was holding a placard that read, “KIDS FOR WRITERS”.

The BIG BROTHER house is also on the CBS Radford lot. I used to walk by their backyard fence, knowing they were cut off from the world and news and say “Oh shit! Did you hear? We just attacked Korea!!"

Lots of folks from SAG were on the line. They were the ones not eating doughnuts.

I overheard a couple of writers working on their screenplay story. I couldn’t really hear what it was but the dog did and gave me a look like, “Yeah, great. A buddy comedy/road picture -- DEAD”.

In a strike tactic I don’t quite understand, we marched clockwise for awhile then were told to start marching counterclockwise. Hey, anything to bring the producers to their knees.

A lot of motorists rolled down their windows and shouted out support… as they drove onto the lot.

Ellen DeGeneres told her television audience that she’s contractually obligated to continue doing her show. But she loves her writers and in support will discontinue her monologue. That’s great except…she CAN’T do her monologue without writers!! A few weeks ago she probably read a script that said, “Ellen cries”.

The big question early in the week was why would our negotiating committee give up DVDs? It made no sense. And then we learned the truth: the producers pulled the old Charlie Brown and the football, leading the WGA to believe if they gave up DVDs they'd offer some internet formula for residuals. And then did no such thing. AAGGGGHHH!!!

I didn’t see anyone with a megaphone trying to whip us into a frenzy. I guess they got wise. The only way to get this bunch to shout out protest chants is to hire the Laker Girls to lead them.

Of course, there's really no need for the rah-rah people. The producers themselves have managed to galvanize the union into such a state that to a man writers will fight this contract till the end of time.

Which starts tomorrow with Day Four.

The worst TV show ever

Back from another day of picketing. No TV cameras, no Jay Leno handing out Krispy Kremes. Just us “Schmucks with Underwoods” (although to be more accurate – “Schmucks with PowerBooks”.) Even if you’re not in the guild, feel free to join us on line. And if anyone asks what you’re working on just say a pilot for Faye Dunaway (frighteningly pictured).

Which brings me to another topic:

A question I was asked at my writing seminar was, "What do you think is the worst TV show ever?” Good question but tough to answer. No matter what I come up with I’m sure I’m overlooking even worse candidates. So please feel free to chime in with your suggestions. And if you nominate AfterMASH I won’t be offended.

Some of the turkeys I might consider are…

COP ROCK – Imagine the cops from THE SHIELD breaking into song.

VIVA LAUGHLIN – Imagine a parody of COP ROCK.

SATURDAY NIGHT WITH HOWARD COSELL – Howard Cosell hosted a variety show in 1975.

BLESS THIS HOUSE – a CBS sitcom starring Andrew Dice Clay as a dad. I would have given anything to see the test results on that pilot.

THE FAYE DUNAWAY SHOW – Maybe the scariest actress in Hollywood once starred in her own sitcom for CBS. “I’m ready for my four cameras, Mr. DeMille.”

PINK LADY AND JEFF – A variety show featuring comic Jeff Altman and a Japanese girl group who had trouble speaking English. People felt sorry for Jeff. I felt sorry for the writers. And NBC passed on our pilot to put this series on the air. Not that our pilot was great but you could understand every word.

PUBLIC MORALS – Since Steven Bochco couldn’t make a cop show/musical he tried a cop show/comedy. Lasted one week. First network show to use the word “pussy”. Those two last sentences are not unrelated.

WHO’S YOUR DADDY? -- Adopted kids have to guess their real fathers in this worst reality show ever until we see what great new fare the networks put on during the strike.

DAVID CASSIDY – MAN UNDERCOVER -- Teen heartthrob David Cassidy as a cop who goes undercover in a maximum security prison. And he manages to keep his pants on the entire series.

LIFE WITH LUCY – It worked when she was 40. It even worked when she was 50. But it didn’t work when she was 106. Lucille Ball in her last sitcom, still trying to be zany, but instead of laughing you were just praying she wouldn’t break a hip.

CELEBRITY BOXING – If only the celebrities were Andrew Dice Clay and Faye Dunaway and there were no referees…

MANIMAL – A crimefighter who could turn into any animal. Imagine being read your rights by a chicken.

SUPERTRAIN – A nuclear powered bullet train that was so big it had a shopping center and swimming pool on board. Could send a cow on the tracks flying eight miles into the air. Was supposed to be like LOVE BOAT. Was more like THE HINDERBURG.

Notes from the picket line

Back from the front lines at 20th Century Fox. Day One of David vs. Goliath-Warner-corps-com-inc-ney.

Good turnout and well organized. Picket signs aplenty, many new, bottled water, and even printed lyrics to custom protest chants.

Lots of cars and trucks honked in support. Even a cement mixer, whose driver probably has three upcoming pool constructions now in jeopardy.

Since it was the first day the media was there in full force. By tomorrow there will be nobody. It was fun watching these reporters scouring the writers looking for a familiar face – ANY familiar face. And then the scowls of disappointment when there was nobody “famous” enough for them. Sorry guys, Tina Fey is in New York.

Any writer who brought a kid got interviewed.

Camera crews filmed us all marching. If they use more than four seconds of it I will be floored.

Face it, we’re not a pretty union. We'll never be mistaken for SAG.

At one point I was walking with Jim Brooks and Allan Burns (two of my absolute IDOLS) and a reporter approached Jim (pictured left). Once she confirmed he was involved with THE SIMPSONS she asked this multi Oscar and Emmy winner “are you also a writer?”


Meanwhile, another SIMPSONS scribe, Mike Scully was marching… on crutches. There's got to be some WGA award he can win for that, right?

There was a union guy with a megaphone trying to rally the troops. We’re not used to that. He tried to lead us all in a rousing chant of “We are the writers, the mighty mighty writers!” and the only reaction he got was snickering. Note to anyone with a megaphone: We’re just not a real rah rah bunch.

It was fun to reconnect with friends I hadn't seen in awhile (i.e. the last strike).

You also see a lot of people on the line you haven’t seen in awhile and can’t remember who they are or how you know them. Overheard a LOT: “Hey, man/babe/dude/guy, how are ya? You’re looking great.”

Also overheard every six seconds: “What WERE you working on?”

Unfortunately, you also see every writer who ever fucked you over in your career, got the job you coveted, beat you in an arbitration, stole your girl, or beaned you in an industry softball game. And you pass by them again...and again...and again...and again...

Actor David Clennon was on the line marching. He’s not even in the WGA. Our sincere thanks to everyone not in the guild who is supporting our cause. Just ‘cause we’re the “mighty mighty writers” doesn’t mean we don’t really appreciate your help.

At 1:00 when the first shift was over I bet Junior's deli was PACKED. Not everyone will suffer from this strike.

I wrote an article for Sunday’s TORONTO STAR about the strike. Some of points I’ve mentioned already in my blog but if you’d like to see it translated into Canadian, this is the article.

See you tomorrow on Pico Blvd with my sign.

Honk if you love writers!