No Better Way To Spend My Thursday Night

Tonight, for the fourth year in a row, I’ll be sitting in a theatre watching an installment of The Hunger Games. After three years, it’s time to say goodbye. I still remember the first time that I went, seeing the first movie with my two best friends from high school. It was an amazing night, and happened to be one of my friends’ birthday, and we were all ecstatic – we’d all read the books, and this adaptation looked amazing.

Midnight movies have a special place in my heart. I think my first midnight movie was The Dark Knight, when I was 13 or 14 years old. My aunt took me and my cousin on a whim, and I ended up struggling to stay awake, since I had been up all day. But it was an exciting night – when Lieutenant Gordon came out of the back of the van, proving that he was alive, not dead, the entire theatre erupted in applause. A couple of years later, I saw both Twilight and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at midnight (I refused to choose between them – both guilty pleasures in my opinion) – theatres filled with hundreds of teen girls, all buzzing thirty minutes or an hour before the show, and I soaked it all in.

Now, I’m a bit older, and see more sophisticated things, read: Rocky Horror Picture Show, I still remember what it was like to be in high school, to be up at midnight, and to be part of a community that cares about something.

The tragedy of today, though, is that nothing really happens at midnight. Perhaps the midnight movie was more of a resurgence rather than just something I didn’t know about till I was older, but for movie executives, these nights are a way to make oodles of money. Which is kind of sad, because when I see Mockingjay at 11:15 tonight, I know, deep down, I shouldn’t be seeing it until midnight, and that the theatre I’m at has been showing Mockingjay since 7:30 earlier tonight. That hardly seems fair – the movie’s release date isn’t until 12:01 tonight, officially.

However, I will say that the extra movie times allow thousands of people to see the movie, when a lot of them would have been turned away had the theatre limited the release to only 12:01.

No matter what, midnight movies are something I love, and will always love. It’s one of the most unique ways you can see a movie, when going to a theatre is at an all time low.

So I challenge you, even if it’s not tonight with The Hunger Games, or in a month with Star Wars: The Force Awakens, to go see a midnight movie with your friends. Go to the State, go to Rave, go anywhere.

I honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend my Thursday night. Can you?

When Art Gets Weird: How to Respectfully Agree to Disagree

As an English major and Art History minor, I am required to read and view A LOT of art and written work.  Some of it is great (George Orwell’s ‘Politics and the English Language’ = Great!, Michelangelo’s ‘Pieta’ = Great!) and some of it (My peer’s essay on Feminism in The Hunger Games = Not So Great, An art installation of a toilet coming out of a wall = Huh?).

Given the subjectivity of art, coupled with the broad spectrum of genre and mode, there are bound to be certain kinds of art that don’t make sense to everyone.  But when I see a piece like this (say, a toilet coming out of a wall) and am confronted by the artist, I never know what to say.  Sure I’d like to say, “I’m sure you had fun making this and I’m sure this toilet speaks to some deep, albeit smelly part of your soul, but it just doesn’t speak to me.”  But somehow this feels wrong.

But for me and for anyone who has ever felt this distanced sense of disconnect when confronted by bizarre art, I thought I would compile a list of tips to consider when voicing your opinions.  Coming from a family full of people with diverse tastes in music, movies, and books, I’ve learned a few things over the years, but it’s helpful to remind yourself how to tastefully convey your tastes, without crunching the hearts of passionate artists.

Sarah’s Tips for Tasteful Critiques

  1. Acknowledge the Skill. Even if the swirling blown glass sculpture doesn’t look like anything to you, it’s still nice to tell the artist that you appreciate their time and effort to construct every piece of blown glass.
  2. Find ONE thing that strikes you. Even if it makes you feel sad, scared, or angry, acknowledge the emotion.  Even negative emotions and reactions mean that a piece has power.
  3. Feel free to ask questions. If something fails to strike you, ask the artist why they chose to arrange the piece the way they did.  Artists love talking about their work and their creative process.  Even if you aren’t interested in the final product, it’s always illuminated to find out how things are made.
  4. Connect the art to something you are familiar with. If you have absolutely no background with minimalist music, but love film scores, you could maybe tell the composer, “Wow, I had never heard minimalist music before this, but it reminds me of…”   Things like this will keep the conversation from a stalemate and maybe spark a new connection.
  5. Be Honest.  If there was something that you didn’t understand or thought missed the mark, kindly say so.  You don’t have to rip the piece to shreds, but maybe highlight the key feature that maybe rubbed your the wrong way.  It’s always nice to start with a high point though, as in “While I loved the colors of the leaves around the frame, the naked man in the middle was really jarring.”