whinging and whining

Whilst tidying up my old study, I happened across some journals I'd kept when I was a teenager. With my corroded memory banks, I'd forgotten I'd actually kept these things, let along what it was like to be 15 - but by all accounts, it was a pretty bleak existence.

It was as if, when I was 15, I had this personal biosphere of hell wrapped around my head, and this tiny space was my everything. Everyone hated me, I hated them back, and getting marks below 85% made me suicidal. I kid you not - there is a suicide note in there, though the reason seems to be a combination of 'bad' marks and something about how everyone else is a lemming and has trodden me down, even though I have heaps of potential. When I was reading it, I think I had a new kind of grimace on my face - an amalgamation of mirth and utter embarrassment. Actually no, I take that back - that's quite a common grimace. But I digress.

I think there's two lessons to be learnt from reading old journals.

1) be more charitable to teenagers - they're having a rough time of it.
2) don't whine about getting older every birthday because lord knows you're actually happier for it!

And on a complete non-sequitur:

I am seriously considering boycotting the Newmarket Rialto cinemas altogether. I'm already actively avoiding their digital cinemas, which at standard ticket prices is fraud as far as I'm concerned. They don't seem to give a shit about the correct aspect ratio, shelling out for good projectors that don't have the rainbow effect and that don't freeze on a frame for minutes on end. I am so mad that 'Brick' was showing at the 'evil corporation' multiplex on a pristine 35mm print, and I opted to watch it at 'the home of arthouse cinema' crap-arse cheap-as Rialto on shitty lo-res, hi-contrast FREEZE FRAMING DVD. I AM RAGE! RAAAAAGE I SAY!!! Anyway, not only am I never, EVER setting foot into Cinema 1 or 2 until they clean up their act, I saw 'Shortbus' on print the other day, and the sound popped ALL THE WAY THROUGH. Which reminded me that a print of 'Good Night and Good Luck' way back when the cinema opened after 'refurbishment' was OUT OF SYNC for assorted periods of the film!

The thing is, when I do complain about aspect ratio and bad sync - things that to me, as a filmmaker, are the basic requirements of a cinema experience - I'm met with belligerent staff and confused managers who tell me I'm the first to complain about such things. I was even told one time that my problem with an incorrect aspect ratio was 'in my head', and the filmmaker had intended it to be that way. BULL CRAP. 3 years in post-production means that I know an incorrect aspect ratio when I see one - and that brings me to another gripe - how on earth do people with wide-screen TVs suffer an incorrect aspect ratio just so that there aren't any black lines on the side? One TV seller told me that black lines on the widescreen TV was bad for the screen. I think my jaw dropped and I just looked at him for a full 30 seconds. The screen is RUINED, JUST BY WANTING THE CORRECT ASPECT RATIO??? It BOGGLES THE MIND. Why would they make wide-screen TVs for the benefit of the AV-phile if the AV-phile couldn't watch TV as it was intended as well? And if the people who buy these widescreen TVs are such AV-philes and care about their widescreen movies, surely they would care about their goddam 4:3 TV as well? Apparently not. More than once, I've encountered idiot people who go ON AND ON about their FABULOUS widescreen, and then watch 4:3 TV on stretched widescreen, as if that would make their AV experience better. DOLTS! STUPID-HEADS! I AM EMBARRASSED BY THEIR IDIOCY! Anyway, I digress again.

Anyway, back to the rude cinema staff who told me I was imagining an incorrect aspect ratio. As a filmmaker hearing this utter 'it ain't my fault an you crazy' crap, I am mortified. Sure, the multiplexes may be evil, but at least they seem to care about the quality of the cinema-going experience. I'm not sure what it's going to take to restore my faith in the Rialto, but I sure as hell know it's not going to take a lot to completely shatter my confidence in them for the next very long while.

Am I being picky and neurotic? Hell yes. I'm a filmmaker, so I'm going to gosh-darn-well represent, dammit!

Hmm, recalling what I said about my whinging, bitter, 15-year-old self... I'm starting to believe that some things never change.

Breakfast:
Milo and Peanut Butter Toast
Verdict:
Passable. I'm dreaming of congee, actually, but lack foresight enough to make it for breakfast. When I do make it, I end up scoffing it all before breakfast. Ah well.