Despite my recent cinematic miss-adventures, I braved the theatre again and went to see The Other Boleyn Girl. While I managed to behave myself and avoid getting yelled at by others in the theatre, it was a disaster nonetheless. I’ll explain…
Despite getting poor reviews, I was excited to see this film because I’m constantly looking to be proved wrong that Scarlett Johannsen and Natalie Portman are two of the worst actresses alive. I should have known it wouldn’t end well when we arrived just in time to take our seats, but I had to pee so bad that I ducked out and missed the preview for the Sex and the City movie. Damn. Then we realized that the waiter from The Cheesecake Factory forgot to give us forks for our cheesecake that we smuggled into the theatre, and we were going to have to eat it with our fingers. Damn damn. And the kicker was when we discovered the straw in our tankard of Diet Coke had a hole in it, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t suck anything up unless you tipped it precariously a certain way. Damn damn DAMN! Then the lights dimmed, and the film started.
Almost immediately, I knew we were doomed: the names of the actors were slightly cut off at the bottom of the screen during the 30 second opening sequence. Immediately I recognized that the film aperture was out of line on the projector, and the framing was off. The average movie goer probably wouldn’t notice such a thing, considering no one was missing the top half of their heads, nor were we expecting any subtitles. But, being the experienced film projectionist that I am (yes, little known fact: I was a film projectionist in college) I knew things were amiss.
I battled w/ myself about whether or not to exit the theatre and say something to the management, ask them to adjust the framing. After all, it is a simple fix that a projectionist would have caught immediately had they been sitting up in the booth when the film started. But these days, big movie houses only employ one or two projectionists who simply load the film into the projector and get it started. Since technology now allows for the entire film to fit on one large platter loaded into a single projector, there is no need for a staff member to sit in the booth for the duration of the film to facilitate the seamless transition between dual projectors when one reel runs out. I knew the management had no idea what was going on in theatre number 3,189.
I debated, I wrestled, and I inevitably decided that, with no expected subtitles, I would say nothing to the theatre management. The film continued, and I enjoyed myself (sans annoying comments from the peanut gallery). That is, until the end. We made it through all the drama, climaxing w/ the beheading of Anne Boleyn (oh come on, everyone knows it’s “Off with her head!” in the end…). We were without incident, all the way to the point where the film makers decide to tell you what happens to Henry VIII and Mary Boleyn after Anne gets the axe. The end of the tale, the oh-so-important “And they all lived happily ever after…or did they?” information that rounds out the entire story was……wait for it……subtitled.
DAMMIT!!! You could read the first part of the subtitle, but the second part was cut off. So for all we knew, a sentence that started out: “After living in exile for the better part of his life…” could very well have ended: “…Henry’s only son decided to join the circus and become a lion tamer.” and we would be none the wiser. So now, I either have to turn to Wikepedia (the only source for trusted and accurate information in the universe) or I have to read the effing book…
