My last free ticket at Cinema Nova

There were a lot of ways I felt like a dinosaur on Wednesday night, someone holding on to something that is no longer viable -- and looking pathetic to everyone around him to boot.

I came into the city for a day of work and to go to baseball practice, which is a stone's throw from Cinema Nova in Carlton. Nova is the inner city's premier arthouse cinema -- perhaps the premier arthouse cinema in all of Victoria -- which is notable for the fact that it's an arthouse cinema in the body of a multiplex. The screens are not all huge -- in fact the majority of them are tiny -- but there are like 16 of them, mostly playing independent films, and not all of which play four times a day. So that means if there's something in the arthouse that's out right now, you'll find it among the 20+ films that are playing at Nova at any given moment.

It has also been one of the places that always took my critics card, but that came to a sudden end on Wednesday night -- bizarrely, halfway through the night.

I had originally intended to attend the two+ hour practice and then come to see Kogonada's After Yang at 8:30. But when our normal playing field was off limits to us on Wednesday night due to a conflict from another athletic team, the practice became more about hitting in the batting cages and then using some very small patches of grass to do some limited fielding drills. I got there early, did my hitting and then left in order to sneak in a cheeky 5:45 viewing of Celine Sciamma's Petite Maman, which, like After Yang, has only just opened in Australia, months after it opened elsewhere. The movie is only 73 minutes long, so I felt like I couldn't afford not to take the opportunity to see it, especially if the alternative were jockeying with 70 other baseball players on a patch of grass smaller than a basketball court.

The first thing that made me feel absurd was what I was wearing and what I was dragging behind me. Because I came straight from practice, I had on my Melbourne University practice jersey, my cap, and sweatpants. Not really a proper appearance for a critic attending a screening of a movie he plans to review, but Australians don't judge you on things like that. (And lest you think it's weird that I'm on a baseball team that's associated with a university, it's a giant program that takes people of all ages -- there are probably at least five people older than me across the club's eight men's teams.)

And then there was what I was dragging. I have a bag that's about the shape of a bag for carrying golf clubs, only this one is designed for baseball equipment -- bat, cleats, glove, batting gloves, that sort of thing. It's one of those bags with wheels, so you can drag it, but as soon as you try to go fast, the wheels come out of alignment and it teeters on them, twisting your wrist and requiring you to stop and settle them again. Since I was hurrying to the cinema to get there on time, I had to do this quite a bit.

So I rocked up not only with this bag, but with my backpack, which was carrying my work computer as well. Again not a problem since no one frisks you in Australian cinemas to make sure you aren't carrying in any contraband. (And I wasn't -- not for this movie at least.)

I flashed my critics card, got the free ticket to Petite Maman and found three consecutive seats to myself where I could spread out all my baggage -- literal and metaphorical.

Well, the first disappointment of the night was my shrugging reaction to Petite Maman. Given how I adored Sciamma's previous film, 2019's Portrait of a Lady on Fire, I was quite surprised to see how disconnected I felt from this very early on. I figured an "a-ha!" moment would still come along to salvage it, but it never did. You can read my full review here. 

The movie's short length left me plenty of time to eat a nice dinner on Lygon Street, which has a number of good restaurants, many of them Italian, with seating on the sidewalk. I chose one of them and sat outside, despite a very light rain that fell at different points of the meal. The dinner was yummy as hell and I had plenty of time to get to After Yang at 8:30.

This is where the evening took a bit of a nosedive. 

As I was in the queue for tickets, I saw the guy who had given me my first ticket behind the counter, but he wasn't at a register so I seemed likely to avoid him. This is my preference as I kind of feel like I am getting away with something if I get two free tickets in the same night, even though there is nothing about my critics card that would specifically prohibit this. The feeling of prospective shame was exacerbated by my goofy appearance and all the bags I had with me. I mean, there was no chance I would blend in with the other patrons at the cinema. 

When I got to the front, I did avoid him and provided my request to the woman at the register. However, you never know if the person who is taking your order is familiar with the rules for free tickets for critics, and indeed, she had to check with that same guy who had issued me my Petite Maman ticket. He told me that after he'd issued my free ticket earlier, he'd checked with his manager and discovered that Nova no longer issues complimentary tickets for critics, only a $2 industry discount, meaning my $20 ticket would be $18 instead. 

Flustered, I stepped out of line to try to find documentation that proves my eligibility for a free ticket, since I used to carry in my backpack a list issued by my organization of the movie theaters that accept our critics card. This was a new backpack and I hadn't transferred that list over to it. I went into my email on my phone and couldn't find the proof there either. In fact, I found the proof that late in 2020, we'd gotten word from the critics organization that Nova is not honoring the card "until further notice," and that we needed to respect that decision. I vaguely remembered this, but also thought it was a short-term pandemic thing.

Having already taken up this adversarial position toward the Nova staff, I had to come back to the guy to say "I'll take your word for it, since I guess I don't have any other choice." Then we got into a small semantic disagreement in which he acknowledged that they accepted the card "ages ago," to which I countered "Well, like last year." I guess it had probably been early 2020, but I couldn't relinquish my position. 

The guy was unfailingly polite throughout -- I never got to the point of rude either -- but at this point he did feel like it was time to play his trump card, which was "Well, you already got a free ticket earlier so that was good for you." Might not be right on that exact wording. In any case, it was still polite but strident enough to work as a zinger that left me no alternative than to pay my $18 and drag all my bags in to see After Yang.

This was another of the smaller screening rooms, but unlike Petite Maman, this one was going to be close to full -- at least in the row where my seat was. So while I started with my bags spread out, I quickly realized this was not going to be viable -- and when I had to rapidly remove my bag from the seat to make way for a couple women sitting next to me, it revealed my box of orange Hostess cupcakes I'd smuggled in with me. One of the women made a humorous little comment about the contraband -- not judgmental per se, but in my frame of my mind I had no choice but to take it that way. So not only was I this ridiculous person in a baseball outfit with too many bags, and Lord knows how clean I was in her mind, but I had also violated cinema policy by bringing in outside food. Not just any outside food, but a box of cupcakes, which felt extra piggy.

Although I now had a person sitting directly next to me, which I like to avoid if at all possible, I didn't want to move because I didn't want that to seem like me leaving my seat in a huff after she discovered my criminal behavior. Besides, if I moved to another seat, that might also belong to someone else. But when the two seats on the other side of me were also soon filled, and I again had to clear my excessive quantity of bags, it gave me the excuse I needed. I said to the two new arriving guys "I'll move, I've just got too much stuff."

Fortunately, when I went down closer to the screen to a row most viewers don't dare venture, I did get the three seats I needed and watched the movie without incident.

As a capper, I didn't like After Yang as much as I wanted to either. For maybe two-thirds I thought it had a chance to move into my #1 spot for the year, but I thought it lost focus in the final third and started to meander and sort of repeat itself. Still a very good movie, but ending in mild disappointment -- which felt very symbolic for this particular day. 

The accumulation of the evening's events left me very contemplative on the way home. I was wondering how much longer our critics card would be accepted anywhere -- even though one of Nova's competitors, which is a lot closer to me and which shows both arthouse and blockbuster films, still does accept my card without blinking, every time. And that got me thinking about the continued viability of film criticism on the whole, a pursuit that has lost a little bit of its luster for me lately as well. The absurdity of me wearing my baseball uniform and dragging around all these bags only compounded things, as it reminded me how I have isolated myself in my new house, and how things that were once so easy for me are now inevitably far more challenging. Looking at my reflection in the train window, I saw a tired schlub with too much baggage. 

Going for the Nova endurance record

I saw Parasite at Cinema Nova in Carlton on June 27^th, 2019, on the first night of its release.

That was 237 days ago. It’s still playing.

On two screens.

This isn’t 1977, when Star Wars played in cinemas for a full year (actually, 44 weeks) because there was no other way to see it. No, it’s 2020, when some movies debut on streaming services the same day as their theatrical release, and even when they don’t, they sometimes have less than two months between their theatrical release date and video premiere.

Parasite was an exception to that rule in Australia. Because the movie was not released in the U.S. until September, its Australian debut on physical media was delayed until just two weeks ago – a week later than it debuted on physical media in the U.S., in fact. I watched it on the plane (for second time) back in November, but unless you were taking a flight somewhere, you were out of luck.

Fortunately, Cinema Nova has been there to oblige.

I’m pretty sure it dropped at some point down to 1-2 screenings a day, but after the Academy Awards, Parasite has come back in full force, finally prompting the few people who haven’t seen it to go ahead and do so. Even though it is now available for purchase, and presumably, for rental. And even though there is now also a black and white version to watch in some cinemas.

I can’t say whether this is actually a modern-day record for Nova, because there’s no easy way to research how long they’ve held certain films playing. I can say that having something like 16 screens (which is gigantic for an arthouse theater) has allowed them to continue allocating one screen to Parasite long after other cinemas had stopped doing so. It’s not unprecedented for a popular film to still be playing at Nova four or five months after its initial release, but eight months is a different story. If the ticket sales support it, I suppose Nova will do it.

Even if it's not a record, you’ve got a unique case with Parasite that would create the conditions for possibly setting one. First, it a word-of-mouth hit that slowly built support and viewers over the duration of its initial several months at Nova. Just at the moment that you’d expect that phenomenon to start petering out, Parasite was released in the U.S., leading to a renewed round of critical attention that of course makes its way over here, generating more interest and more viewers. At the time you might expect that bump to peter out, critics released their best-of-the-year lists, many of which were topped by Parasite. Cue more viewers. Finally you have its Oscar nominations and Oscar wins. Who knows how much longer the film will float along on the current wave.

It’s one of the things I love about Nova, and what it says about independent movie fans and cinephiles in this area, possibly even in Australia in general. It says, or certainly implies, that such people recognize the value of seeing movies on the big screen, even when they have small screen alternatives. It suggests that while they might not get to a movie on its first or second weekend, they certainly have the intention of doing so eventually. It also suggests a fair number of repeat viewers.

And as for the theater itself, it shows that there is a certain patience to their approach, a hesitation to jettison something for the next shiny new thing, just because some model might forecast an expected downturn in the movie’s profitability. There were probably times in, say, late November, when its ticket sales were flagging, when somebody thought about removing it. But ultimately no one did, and lo and behold, here it still is the following February – going stronger than ever, if we are to believe that the people allocating the screening spaces are doing it based on actual ticket sales and not just expected demand. I’m not sure if Parasite was ever playing on two screens at Nova before now.

As a sign of how they're doubling down, I noticed last night that the Parasite poster had again assumed a place of prominence among those you see as you take the escalator up to the lobby. Usually these are reserved for brand spanking new releases or movies that have not even come out yet. 

Maybe it would have been smarter to hold this post until I can tell how long Parasite will ultimately last. But I likely would have forgotten to pay attention to that. If I remember, I’ll update you with the final tally once I notice Parasite falling off the slate on an upcoming Thursday.

Until then, it continues to set records -- both officially, at the Oscars, and unofficially, at the arthouse theaters who adore it.

Professionals masquerading as amateurs

If I haven't heard of a movie already, it can be pretty hard to tell whether it's legitimate or not by visiting the Cinema Nova website.

That's because they're working their damnedest to make all their movies look illegitimate.

An organization that is otherwise beyond reproach, and seems to be doing everything right in terms of cultivating an independent moviegoing experience for its audiences, Cinema Nova in Carlton is majorly striking out in one creative decision: the customized version of movie posters that appear on its website.

Which look like they were made by a child on a Windows ME machine.

You've taken one gander from the poster art above, but here's another:

I have no idea why Nova feels like it can't use the perfectly good posters that are already in heavy rotation for these films. It uses the imagery from these posters -- in most cases -- but feels the need to add a couple random words of white text to cover over the image and synopsize the movie. Or, more than a couple:

I didn't ask for your life's story, It Follows.

Perhaps even worse are the ones that are so teasingly brief on the description that it might as well not even exist at all:

If the cheap-looking white text weren't bad enough, the lack of punctuation is even more aesthetically appalling:

This above movie is the perfect example. When I came to the Nova website on Friday, I saw the poster for this movie, which I'd never heard of before -- and immediately dismissed it as something awful. Then I noticed the names Dustin Hoffman and Kathy Bates at the top, and decided that maybe it's a "normal" movie after all.

The strangest thing about this phenomenon is that these posters appear directly next to a thoughtful and well-written synopsis of the film. Take a look:

Redundancy out the wazoo.

The reality of the situation is that there are enough movies I've heard about that I need to see -- especially as of the start of the season described in this post -- that I don't really need to worry about seeking out a bunch of smaller films that need to fight to get on my radar.

But my God, there are basically credibility issues at stake here. You've got a brand to be maintained, Cinema Nova. Maintain it -- and take that old Windows ME computer down to the industrial waste recycling plant.